#this is the woman who cried and fretted about not being able to resist him with the full knowledge he'd killed her beloved brother

[bluetiefling]

what if I told you that sauron doing such-and-such horrible thing is never gonna matter when it comes to whether or not galadriel continues feeling drawn, romantically, cosmically whatever towards him *gasp*

[ceciliavonwrites]

All Families Have That One Blanket

Shadow woke up curled up on the couch in the Midoriya Family living room.

He coughed, hacking at gunk in his throat. He felt even worse than he had yesterday. Achy and tired and dizzy from a headache. Not that his body was normally stable, but being this sick was making it worse. Even if his healing quirk did work on anything that wasn't injuries, and it didn't, he was far too tired to use it right now without blacking out. He shivered, pulling his one knit throw blanket tighter around him.

Were normal nomu even able to get sick...? He didn't think so, given that they were corpses given Quirks. Just his luck, really.

Whatever was wrong with him, besides being ill, Shadow did not know. For an experimental high end nomu, he'd somehow turned out unacceptably weak. Weak at that scale was still several times stronger than most humans, but the doctor had still expressed disappointment.

Weak, and willful. He had been awake for a brief while after his creation, watching other experiments. Shadow remembered asking one day, why had he been created? The doctor smiled and answered that he was to serve someone named All For One, a god among men. 

But...why? Shadow had never met him. What did some guy he had never met want with him? Did he have to listen to whoever that was?

Soon after he'd asked those questions, he had been sealed up. Abandoned. 

The doctor had said that he loved his creations. Right. Sure he did.

Shadow shivered again, pulling the blanket tighter around him. Ugh. Why was he still here? This was his fifth day at this house. Izuku, acting sort of against Shadow's will actually, had made an tearful case to his mother to let him stay ("His home was destroyed, mom!"). That had to be the only reason he was here.

With that in mind, as pleasant as she seemed, the boy's mother would eventually overrule her son and throw him back out. She had to have found out at some point what he was. Shadow fully intended on leaving once that day came. No need to resist and trouble Izuku any more than necessary.

But she hadn't done it yet. If the day was today...his head throbbed with pain. That would not be ideal.

He looked up at a noise. Mrs. Midoriya walked into the living room. She wasn't a terribly tall woman, but at his size she was a head bigger than him.

She came over to the couch, leaning forwards to get a look at him. "Oh, you're awake!" she said with an air of pleasant surprise. "You weren't looking so good last night. Are you sick?"

Another cough. "Yes," he managed. His voice was scratchy.

She nodded. "I thought so..."

Hm. Nothing about him leaving. Still acting enough on Izuku's behalf to keep him here. That was a relief.

She'd go and leave him alone to recover now. She hadn't asked for him to be here. He was strong enough to handle that.

Instead, for some reason, she went right to his bedside. Shadow turned his head a little to watch her.

She stood by the side of the couch, looking down at Shadow with her big round eyes, like Izukus'. She was just tall enough to loom over him. "Do you want anything to eat?" She asked. "Some water?"

What? "...No." 

"No? Not hungry?"

He tried to subtly move away, into the couch cushion. "Mm-mn."

Her brows lowered. "Oh...that's not good."

Then she moved suddenly and her hand came down onto his forehead. He flinched, startled. "Wh-What are you doing?"

"Huh?" She took back her hand once he jerked away, her round eyes staring down at him with confusion and concern. "I'm just feeling for a fever, Shadow. That's all. Hold still, please?"

She can do that? Well...he didn't see any way that could possibly hurt him. Non-nomus could only have one quirk, and a sensing quirk on its own would be harmless.

Shadow settled back down into the couch. "Mm-hm."

He was prepared this time and stayed still. She felt his head, her fingers gently parting his stiff fur.

Being touched felt...it felt strange. His brows furrowed. It was a weird sensation. Not bad, he thought, but weird. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not. 

"You feel really warm." She said, lifting her hand away. "I hope you've only got a cold."

She wasn't using a quirk...it was just temperature? He wormed one of his own hands out from under the covers to feel his head too. 

"Hm." He could see what she meant. His skin felt hot there for some reason. But the rest of him was cold. Weird.

"How bad do you feel?" She asked. "Do you think you've got the flu, or just a cold?"

He had no idea what that meant. Why was she asking? "I don't know." Shadow shivered, and tried to nestle into the couch with his blanket. The damn thing being knit made it basically a net that let most of the warmth out. He only had it because it had been within reach.

"Oh, you must be freezing," Mrs. Midoriya said, genuinely sounding distressed. "Wait just a minute!"

Shadow stared at her retreating back as she hurried down the hall to the bedrooms. What was she doing? Her actions weren't making sense. She did know he was a nomu, didn't she?

He was still puzzling it over a few minutes later when Inko came back. She was holding a folded, brown and grey plaid blanket.

"Here you go!" She said. "It's scratchy, but really warm." She let it unfold in a stiffened cascade, dividing it roughly in half over her hands. Then she lay the doubled blanket on top of him. He tugged on it a little to bring it up to his face, and shifted to get the sides underneath him and trap heat. 

He lay still again. In a moment, he was feeling a little better. She hadn't been lying, it WAS warm. 

"I should get you your own bed," Mrs. Midoriya fretted, "so you don't have to keep sleeping on the couch."

Shadow coughed. His own what? "I'm fine here." He liked the couch; he could keep an eye on things from this spot. Just in case.

"Still, you get no privacy out here..." She looked around the living room, judging the space.

Shadow breathed in to speak. "Why are you doing this?"

"Huh?" Mrs. Midoriya said, her attention snapping back to him. "Why am I doing what?"

"Hovering over me." 

What he was precluded any possibility of anyone accepting him. Almost anyone. Izuku did, but that boy cared about everyone. It was honestly absurd. A pair of heroes had chased Shadow down to kill him like the rest. His power equaled theirs but his stamina did not; he had been beaten and pinned to the ground when Izuku appeared. Shadow had assumed that at best he would stand there and watch, if he didn't just join in.

Then Izuku had cried out for the two heroes to stop. When they hadn't, he physically forced the issue. Absolutely nobody else would have done that. Done that and then invited him home, AFTER learning he was a nomu. 

"Izuku isn't here." A brief coughing fit made him stop talking. His voice was rougher afterwards. "No need to fake anything."

"What are you talking about?" Mrs. Midoriya asked, befuddled. "You're sick, of course I'm caring for you. It's just part of my job as a parent." Tears welled up in her eyes. "How badly have you been treated?!"

Oh. Now she's crying for some reason. Uh. Okay. "Just normally," Shadow said slowly, gripping the blankets and backing into the couch cushion. She had gotten closer. He felt like she was about to do something and it was making him nervous. "I'm a nomu, so it's onlY--!" 

He yelped when she dove at him. Shadow flailed when he suddenly found himself up in the air, taking quick rough gasps of air.

He and his breathing soon calmed down. She wasn't hurting him. Her big soft arms had him surrounded, blankets and all, but were keeping him from falling too. 

Mrs. Midoriya was sobbing now. "You poor boy! You didn't deserve that!" She sniffed. "Izuku...told me how he found you."

Ah. That. "It was reasonable that they would think I was an enemy."

"Trying to kill you when you haven't done anything is NOT reasonable!" Another sob. She breathed in to steady her voice enough to speak. "Listen...its wrong to hurt people just for who they are. Izuku knows what that's like...that's why..."

Her voice broke again. "I couldn't do anything about it. Or...maybe I just thought I couldn't. I should've tried harder, for his sake..."

"Izuku?" That made no sense. A child with enough power and fame that pro heroes knew about him, ostracized and beaten down? One of his two tormentors had even said something about All-Might being Izuku's mentor. All-Might! Shadow had spent most of his life under a rock in an underground lab and he knew who All-Might was. 

"He's becoming a hero." Bitterness entered Shadow's voice. Heroes had everything handed to them. "What does he know about that kind of pain?" 

"Izuku didn't have a Quirk two years ago!" She wailed. "He's such a brave boy, he would have tried to be a hero even without one, but..." She sniffed, her voice wobbling. "The way things are, the whole world would've been against him."

That was...startling information. Two years ago. Two years ago Izuku was some nobody. That isn't a long time. He'd thought everyone had a Quirk. To be born without one into a sea of powered people...how old is Izuku? How long did he have to struggle against the tide? 

"...I understand now," Shadow said grimly. 

Mrs. Midoriya took a few deep breaths to calm down again. Her arms tightened around him just slightly.

"So, you see...neither of us want you to suffer through that too." The pressure from one arm went away. Her hand ran down one of his quills. "It's your choice, but if you want to stay, you'll always be welcome here."

It was a moment before Shadow replied. "...I can..." He spoke slowly, not quite keeping the disbelief out of his voice. "...choose? Whether I stay?" 

"Yeah, of course.” She said warmly. “You're practically family already."

Family? He was family?

Shadow breathed in sharply, blinking. His eyes had started stinging. Everything he was feeling right now was too much. He had never been so glad to be wrong. This woman was just... overwhelmingly loving.

He understands now. Izuku's kindness came from his mother.

He should...answer her somehow. Shadow breathed in to speak. 

It caught in his throat and he ended up in another coughing fit.

"Oh! Right, I'm sorry, you're sick!" Mrs. Midoriya said, flustered. "Nevermind, here, I'll let you down."

She was so flurried, Shadow instinctively struggled to free his pinned arms from the blankets to hang on to her, thinking she might drop him. 

Thankfully, she didn't. Mrs. Midoriya gently shifted him in her arms onto his back, his head resting on her elbow and her other arm supporting his legs and body. He stopped struggling to free himself, and instead hung on to the blankets to keep them from sliding off. She cradled him in this way for a moment, and lowered him to the couch, sliding her arms out from under him to let him down. 

Shadow was a little impressed that she could hold him up like that. Did she have a strength quirk? 

With still-watery eyes, Inko smiled at him. "Don't worry about deciding anything important yet, alright? All you should focus on right now is resting and getting better." She wiped her eyes. "I'll be in the house all day, so just yell if you need anything, little guy."

Though he was exhausted and aching, Shadow found himself smiling too. He felt warmed. "Yes, Mrs. Midoriya."

[1800areyouslapping]

Non-Con/Dark/Yandere.

You are just about the prettiest gal Jesse’s ever come across. All bright eyed and bushy tailed. Young, too young, as he’s heard many times. Came into Overwatch ready and willing to do whatever you can to fit in and pull your weight. McCree admires your Spitfire, all of your gusto. Your charming, angel of a smile that strangely reminds him of his own. You could charm the pants off of anybody, especially himself. 

What was best about your arrival sixth months ago, was that your attention was always homed in on him. Anytime you’d pass eachother in the hallways you always made time to say hi and give him the best hugs. Making sure to sit with him in the mess hall at dinner and lunchtime. It didn’t take long for him to latch onto you, start feeling a bit... possessive. 

It had gotten to the point where you were making plans to eat with eachother. Readjusting schedules just to get a little bit of time to hang out. McCree’s not usually one for falling hard and falling fast, but damn you’ve got a tied string wrapped around his heart, and you tug on it anytime you're around.

When he buckled down and invited you to his place, decided it was time he try and make an honest woman outa you, you seemed uncharacteristically apprehensive. Fumbled over giving him an excuse to say no. Every moment you spent not telling him yes, caused that string you tied around his heart to tighten painfully tight. Created a wash of heat in his chest. Thankfully you gave in,  slapped your hands down on your thighs and said, “Why the hell not!” 

McCree thought to himself, the words gliding across his brain as free and natural as a bird, good girl. He agreed out loud, “That’s right, why the hell not, Darlin’.” ‘Took you long enough to say so, nearly broke my heart.’ Broken off and swallowed down. Best to not come off to clingy. 

It’s not the easiest thing, just going out and taking a little lady on a date. The woes of being an outlaw. But he can still fix up some grub and make a table look real pretty. More personal and better than any restaurant in his opinion. He can provide anything you’d ever want or ever need, right within the confines of his home. 

Besides, it feels like you and him have been on plenty of dates already. All it’s gonna take is a few solidifying statements, and maybe a primal act to officially make you his. 

Jesse’s following you through the door to his place. You’ve got the best God damn sway in your hips that he’s ever seen, the nicest round ass. He don’t mean to be ungentlemanly, but he can’t help but gawk at it. You just dressed up so nice for your date with him. Wearing the cutest little sundress, with frilly shoulders that sit on your arms. Exposing your shoulders and neckline. 

Halfway through the dinner and Jesse is tryna understand how a girl like you can be so damn nervous. Your leg hadn't stopped bouncing under the table for the entire dinner. Sipping on your wine a little faster than he had anticipated you would have. Not he minds much, he likes a girl who can drink. The more relaxed you are the better things are gonna go later. After some banter, and a couple of more glasses of wine McCree gets up to put on a little slow dancing music. 

“Hey, McCree?” 

“Go on, Darlin’.” 

“Did you ever... I don’t know--” You hang your head as you tug and pull at the hem of your dress nervously. “I guess I was wonderin’ if you ever were sweet on the idea of havin’ a kid.” 

Lord, that’s another thing he adores about you. You grew up in the New Mexico just like him. Talk so much like him, the accent is so darling coming from your lips. McCree laughs as he picks out a song. Swings around, takes his hat off of his head, and extends his hand out to you. “It’s’a little early to be thinkin’ about children don’t’cha think?” 

As you’re doing that thing where you fumble over your words. Saying ‘no’ over and over again. Insisting that wasn’t what you were tryna get at. You were just curious is all. McCree grabs you by the wrist and yanks you up out of your seat. “Eh, now don’t fret so much. If I happened upon the right little lady, I’d be more than obliged to have a kid or two.” 

You whine a little at his answer. Shift around in his arms as he’s trying to hold you close. It seems like perhaps your tryna resist him a little bit and he doesn’t like that one bit. “Hey Sugar, how ‘bout you relax?” 

You mind him, but only slightly. Keeping your arms tightly pulled against your body, allowing him to sway you to and fro. Not exactly the romantic dance he was going for. Finally, he decides to just say “to hell with it.” Maybe your pent-up cause you're anticipating the flow of the night. So he’ll just go ahead and break the tension. 

Jesse tips your head up so you're looking him in the eye. “God damn, you’re beautiful, you’know that?” 

The look you give him is one of pity, and that’s something he just don’t understand. “Oh, Jesse I-- I really should get goin’.” 

His fingers curl around your jawline. Anger and offense bubbling in his belly. “Did you hear me just give you a compliment?”

“I-- I did but...” 

McCree lurches forward to kiss you. Forces his mouth over yours. Groans to let you know just how much he wants you. You don’t reciprocate it. Instead, you’re shaking your head back and forth. Trying to get away from him. Making the “mm-mm” sound in your throat. He pulls away to get a look at you and ask, “Are we goin’ too fast?” 

“No-no, Jesse-- I-- I don’t like you like that--” 

Instantly the string around his heart snaps. Releasing a dangerous flood of hurt, and livid hot anger through his blood. “What the fuck you mean, you don’t like me?! What have we been doin’ for the past six months?! What are we doin’ here tonight?!” 

Tears brim in your water line. Big doe eyes, darting back and forth across his face. You’ve never once heard him raise his voice, and here he his yelling in your face. “I’m real sorry-- I’ve been a coward, I realize this is awkward.. but--”

“Awkward?!” He growls as he shakes your head so hard some of your hair comes out of your neat ponytail. “You don’t get to fuckin’ tease a man to the point of lovin’ and then tear ‘em down like this!” 

“Jesse, I wasn’t teasin’--” 

McCree’s had enough of hearing you tear his heart apart. Seething rage at your audacity to string him along like this, breaking his gentleman-like persona. More like stomping on it, and trampling it into the ground. He clamps a hand over your mouth. Picks you up and starts to drag you along. Big, bright eyes widening, begging him to let you go. 

Tears stream down your cheeks. Legs kicking so wildly that you land two swift blows to his each of his shins. Startled he drops you, and you try to bolt. But his long reach gets you by that ponytail. Yanks you back into his hold, with a loud yelp from your mouth. Your back slamming into his chest, taking your breath away.  

You wheeze out, “McCree, please--” he’s quick to clamp a hand over your mouth, big fingers digging painfully into your cheek. McCree doesn’t wanna hear any more from you. As far as he’s concerned everything that’s ever come out of your mouth was a lie, a farce.

He continues dragging you towards his bedroom, your heels dragging against the floor. You’re still kicking, screaming and begging into the palm of his hand. The adorable, baby blue kitten heels you wore in here flying off of your feet, colliding with walls, with loud, jarring thumps. McCree keeping his neck craned back, avoiding your attempts to headbutt him with the back of your head. 

Jesse both throws you and himself down on the bed. His weight crushing on top of your body. Pushing you so far into the sheets that it’s hard to breathe through your nose. You’ve never been so scared, never cried so hard. If he’d just let up on your mouth you’d be able to tell him. All of the courage you needed to gather, here in this present moment, as your last hope of keeping yourself from being raped by-- you can’t even bring yourself to think it right now. 

It’s far too late. Your heart drops, stomach turning at the sound of his belt unbuckling. McCree yanks your underwear down your thighs just enough to jam his cock inside of you. You wail into his hand, squirm and try to get away from just how much it burns. His girth and length are nowhere near forgiving, and you weren’t lying when you said you weren’t attracted, not in the least. So the first moments of him jackhammering into your resistant pussy are agony. 

The pain is almost welcome. At least in replacement of the nausea that wells up in your throat when you think about just how fucked up your world as just become. You thought things were going so well. Eventually, you woulda got up the courage. You were just too naive to see the underlying darkness that McCree was always carrying around with him. Eventually, you acclimate enough for the pain to mellow out. But his thrusts are still too fast, too deep. 

Jesse has long been beyond giving a shit about your comfort. He’s too lost in the heat his body is producing. How fucking tight you are around his cock. Holding down one of your arms by your wrist. You smell so, damn, good. He always notices how you smell, but right now it’s heightened. Smelling like flowers and sweets, reminding him of an old, old fling he had once when he was young. 

His hand is soaked with your tears. Fevered, hot breath, bellowing against his fingers. McCree’s close to cumming, it’ll just take a few more moments. Just a little bit longer of you taking each cruel snap of his hips against your ass. Of his cock slamming up against your cervix. Stretching your walls apart. Making you keen and sob with every full, deep sheath. 

You start to settle down as his thrusts become more erratic. Sobs settling down into little hiccups. Damn you’re cute, cheeks all rosy and swollen. The string around his heart still tugging at the sight of you underneath him, seems it didn’t completely snap after all. He sits up, still holding your wrist to the bed, his hold around your mouth tightening as he cums. Buries himself inside of you and lets all of himself out, emptying his greedy cock, getting his satisfaction.  

Jesse’s feeling guilty for being so rough. Especially without any foreplay, but he just wanted you so bad, and nothing else mattered. You must understand, and he’s sure that if he’s sweet enough you’ll forgive him. He kisses your temple, down along your jawline and into your neck. “See how much I love you, Sweet Pea?” 

You shake your head from side to side, still trying to reject him. You look up at him, soft eyes turned into daggers. Finally, he releases your mouth. Sits up, pulling out of you in the process. Puts his dick away. Shakes his head in disbelief. “Any damn person would be lucky to have me, Sweet Heart.” He scoffs at himself, momentarily having forgotten about needing to be sweet. Corrects himself, “I’ll make it up to you, Baby.” 

Still, you shake your head. Pulling up your underwear with shaky hands. Sobbing openly and unrestrained. “You got anything to say for yourself?” He asks, leaning forward, as you’re crawling across the bed in order to get out from under him. “Don’t you see what’cha do to me?” 

All of a sudden you get up onto your knees, rear your hand back and throw your whole body into smacking him across his face. The hit hurting your own hand more than it hurt him. “I’m your daughter!” You spit at him, finally getting out what you’ve been aching to tell him from the moment you stepped foot into watchpoint. 

Anticipating his next bout of words you sob, “Ask the manager’a records if you don’t believe me.” 

You crawl off of the bed, nearly collapsing onto the floor but managed to gather your barrings. Sniffle and wipe away snot and tears with the back of your hand. McCree’s too in shock to stop you as you start to walk away. Trying to process the new hitch thrown into your relationship. You limp into the hall where you pick up your heels. That won’t do, he can’t just let you walk out that door. “Get back here so we can talk.” 

“Just ask to see my birth certificate--” you sob and stamp your foot when you fail to get your shoe on. Arms too shaky, body too weak for coordination. “They’ll show you.”   

“Do not make me get up after you, little girl,” Jesse says lowly. You look to him like a gazelle eyeing a predator in the grass. A dumb animal would have run, but you’re no dumb animal. You drop your heels in defeat, yielding to your father’s authority. Good girl.  

[enixamyram]

A Curious Valentine’s Present

Summary: Killian helps his daughter set up a valentine surprise for Robin and the girls share an evening together before Robin makes a lifelong promise to Alice. KnightRook bonding and Curious Archer love.

  Alice threw the chequered blanket into the air, spreading it out as much as she could before she ducked down and let it flutter back towards the ground. Once it was down on top of the grass, Alice dropped to her hands and knees, crawling on top and spreading her palms across the surface to smooth out any bumps or crinkles it might have left over. While she did her best to make sure it was straight with no hard pieces of stones still sticking out of the ground from underneath, Killian came back from collecting the broken branches and twigs, setting them down on the side in a neat pile before carefully arranging them to make a small campfire for the girls later in the evening.

  “Here, love.” Killian said, gathering and placing a small bundle of stones close to the blankets edge. “Put those on each corner, it’ll keep the wind from blowing it up, just in case.” There wasn’t much of a breeze at the moment but that could always change later on.

  After Killian had moved back to the firewood and was a safe distance away again, Alice collected the stones and did as he said, placing each of them on their own corner and pinning the blanket in place. Once that was done, she grabbed the bags that Killian had brought her from town and began to unload them onto the blanket. She was careful with how she placed everything, following the instructions that her father had offered her when they had met up earlier that morning. It was simple advice, mostly placing things in an order that she planned to eat them, so they were within easy reach, yet Alice found herself following everything he told her closely, like her very life depended on doing it exactly how he had described or else the night would be ruined.

  “You think Robin will like this?” Alice asked as she began setting up the food with some of the more sugary snacks in the middle under a protective cover – another one of her papa’s ideas.

  “Of course, she will,” Killian said, cheerfully finishing off his own task before turning to face his daughter.

  “What if it rains?” Alice said, biting the inside of her lip and looking nervously towards the sky, like she expected to find a series of dark clouds already hanging overhead.

  “It won’t.” Killian grinned. “Everything will be fine. Trust me.”

  Killian was trying his hardest not to show his amusement so obviously on his face in case he upset her, but it was getting harder and harder to keep a – somewhat – straight face the longer Alice continued to fret over all the things that could possibly go wrong. He had missed out on so much of her life since they were cursed, and this was his first time seeing Alice so flustered and self-doubting over what would happen between her and her girlfriend. Which, even Killian could clearly see, was really pointless because no matter what she did for her, Killian knew that Robin would love it, just because it was Alice who did it for her.

  “Papa,” Alice paused from where she was laying down the flowers her father had brought for her down beside the food in the centre. “Thanks again.”

  “I’m happy to help.” Killian said, smiling at her.

  “I know, but I still really appreciate it.” Alice glanced down at the flowers. They had been her father’s idea. She had gone to him for help on what she would need to plan a romantic picnic and he had not only gone above and beyond with ideas and suggestions but insisted on physically coming to give her a hand setting it all up as well. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

  Killian paused, reaching behind him slightly and digging his hook into the tree bark. In a way it was a different form of clenching his fist, but mostly it was the only way for Killian to physically restrain himself from rushing to her side and doing what he always wished he could; hold her. He would have given anything – he’d even have given his other hand – if he could just comfort his daughter properly when she needed him in times like this. Instead he would have to settle for talking it all through at a distance and hope that was enough.

  “You won’t.” Killian insisted. “All you have to do is have fun and everything will be perfect for you both, I’m sure of it.”

  Alice paused, reaching to stroke some of the silk like petals from the flowers. She wished she had her father’s confidence, and normally she did, but whenever she was around Robin everything changed. She second guessed almost everything she did or said with a knotted stomach and jelly legs that never seemed quite able to support her comfortably. It was embarrassing, so she worked twice as hard to feign an air of confidence, almost to the point where she nearly believed it herself.

  “Alice…” Killian said softly, digging his hook deeper into the tree in frustration. “You have nothing to worry about. Don’t think so much into it. Just enjoy yourself.”

  “I will.” Alice nodded, smiling at him and casually changing the subject. “So, what about you, papa? Any plans for today?”

  Killian laughed lightly, letting go of the tree and returning to the firewood. There wasn’t much left for him to do to it now, but he wanted an excuse to keep himself busy and distracted. “Oh no,” He said lightly. “Those days are long behind me now, sweetheart.”

  “They don’t have to be.” Alice said, shrugging.

  “Since when do children encourage their parents to date?” Killian snorted. “Shouldn’t you be deterring any other woman from getting into our life?”

  He was just joking around and having a laugh, but Alice found it hard to join in. “I don’t like the idea of you being all on your own.” She confessed, looking down at the blanket and tracing her finger over one of the blue squares.

  “Alice, I’m not alone.” Killian said softly, looking up at her. “I have Henry, and Regina, and Tiana and all of the resistance. And even if we can’t be together like we used to, I will always have you… You are the only true love I’ll ever need in my life.”

  “I just want you to be happy.” Alice admitted. “Like I am with Robin.”

  “Funny,” Killian chuckled. “Because nothing could make me happier, than knowing you are.”

  Alice beamed at him shyly and for a second, they were silent, because no other words were needed. Then Killian stood, dusting his trousers off with his hand and looking over towards her.

  “Why don’t you separate the flowers, put a couple of each on the stones and pick out the best looking one to sit in the middle.” Killian said casually.

  “Like this?” Alice asked, dividing the flowers and laying them on top of each of the stones before picking out a single pink tulip and leaning it up against the plastic cover.

  “That looks perfect.” Killian said, nodding his approval.

  “Alright,” Alice said slowly, glancing around before she picked up one of the apples. “I was thinking …” Alice began, reaching into one of the bags by her feet, her voice trailing off when she reached in, only to realise it was empty. Alice paused, turning to the blanket and looking over the surface in front of her but everything was already spread out and ready. There was nothing out of place but there was something missing. “Oh no.”

  “What is it?” Killian blinked.

  Alice groaned loudly, leaning back on her heels. “I forgot to pack my dagger. I needed that to cut everything up properly.”

  “Oh,” Killian hesitated. “Well, we could run back…”

  “There’s no time,” Alice said, looking up towards the sky. “It will take too long to get there and back again.”

  “Well, that’s not too bad.” Killian said gently, glancing over the food. “I mean, you could still eat everything as it is without cutting it all up.”

  “I guess....” Alice mumbled, sounding and looking close to tears. “I just… Planned it to go differently.”

  “Hey, easy now, it’s not the end of the world.” Killian said quickly, taking a step forward and wincing slightly at the knowledge that he could risk getting no closer.

  “I know but… Robin did such an amazing job last year for our first Valentines together. I just wanted to do something that was at least halfway as nice, and I can’t even do that.” Alice groaned, slapping the empty bag away. “I mean, who forgets the most basic stuff like a single knife?”

  “Maybe we can use something else to do the job?” Killian suggested, glancing around but all that he could see were a series of smooth stones and dirty brittle sticks for the fire.

  “Forget it.” Alice mumbled, standing. “We’ll just… Make do.” She waved her hands helplessly.

  Killian hated seeing her like this. He may have helped her with a series of suggestions and such, but this had been her idea to begin with and she had worked so hard to set it all up. Even when Killian had tried to help, she had insisted on doing the most of it by herself so that it could truly be her gift. And now, in her mind at least, one little mistake had ruined it all. That wasn’t fair, and Killian loathed to see her like this. There had to be something he could do for her.

  Suddenly, inspiration struck. “Don’t you worry, love!” Killian grinned. “I’ve just the thing.”

 O*U*A*T

  “Wait!” Alice cried.

  She jumped up from the spot and ran over to the opening in the tall hedge, beating Robin just before she could step into the clearing and see the decorated picnic that had been carefully laid out. She stepped in the way and grinned at her as soon as she came into view. Neither of them had particularly dressed up for the occasion, but they had changed into their nicer casual clothes and, as per usual, Robin looked stunning even with her bow and arrows settled in hand.

  “You look beautiful,” Robin grinned, leaning forward and pecking Alice softly on the lips.

  “Hey, that’s my line.” Alice laughed when she pulled back, reaching over and grabbing her hands before she pulled her back for a second, harder, kiss in return.

  When they finally pulled apart, Alice bouncing slightly as she moved around behind her, reaching up and covering Robin’s eyes with her hands. When she was satisfied that Robin could not see anything past her fingers, she began to lead her through the hedge and out into the stretch of field where the picnic waited for them. Somehow, despite how much effort she had put into making it perfect, it still didn’t look quite like Alice imagined it would in her head, but she was happy with it none the less and was eager to show it off.

  “Ta da!” Alice cried, releasing Robin’s face and jumping to stand by her side, waving her arm at the set up in front of them.

  Everything was as it was when Killian had left her. The only difference now was that Alice had lit the fire for warmth and removed the container from the food, back into the bag, tucked out of sight just before Robin’s arrival, making sure it looked perfectly displayed upon first look.

  “Oh, wow, Alice, this is amazing.” Robin whispered, looking slightly dazed with a light in her eye as her face dropped in shock before pulling back into a slow smile.

  “I had a little help.” Alice admitted. “Papa, gave me some ideas and helped set a lot of it up.”

  “Well it looks amazing. You and your father are a pretty good team.” Robin said, taking Alice hand and dragging her over to the picnic, sitting them down on the side closest to the fire. “This looks so mouth-watering. I’m starving!”

  “Well, help yourself!” Alice beamed, sitting close to Robin’s side and reaching for a slice of apple. They weren’t so evenly cut as she would have liked, but she did what she could with what Killian had given her.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day, Alice.” Robin said, pouring the freshly squeeze juice into a pair of matching cups before handing one over to the other girl.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.” Alice said, clunking their cups together and taking a small sip before she set it aside. As soon as Robin had lowered her own cup, Alice leaned forward and caught her in a deep kiss, wrapping her arms around her tightly.

  Robin blindly set her own cup down before she wrapped her arms around Alice in return, pulling her so hard they nearly lost their balance and fell on the food. Instead, without breaking their embrace, they swayed to the other side and fell onto the grass, still clinging to one another the whole time. The soft burning fire wasn’t the only thing keeping them hot by the time they eventually pulled away from one another, grinning and staying close so Alice could smell the soft peppermint leaves Robin had been chewing on the way here. Something she only did when she was anxious. It was good to know Alice wasn’t the only one a little nervous and she found Robin’s habit to be cute enough for another quick kiss.

  “We should probably eat first.” Robin giggled finally, brushing her nose gently against Alice’s before pushing herself back up.

  “Yeah, plenty of time for that later.” Alice said, grinning from the ground for a second longer before she also forced herself back into sitting position.

  “So, what do we have here?” Robin asked, looking over the food, still wetting her lips greedily. Her own nerves for the evening had kept her from having a proper meal all day and she was glad it had. There was so much laid out for them here!

  “Well, a bit of everything.” Alice said. “Mostly fruit, since I didn’t really have that much for shopping and I’m not the greatest hunter, but papa chipped in a bit at the last minute and got some pies and sandwiches and some sweet deserts.” Alice explained. “We can also cook anything over the fire, if it’s your fancy.”

  “Simple, and exactly what I fancy.” Robin said, nodding her approval before she reached down and picked up a few pieces of sliced banana. She turned, grinning to Alice as she threw them in her mouth. “You know me so well.”

  Alice still had no idea if Robin sometimes lied to make her feet better, or if she generally liked the simple things she did, but she loved her for saying things like that either way. Twisting around she leaned against her and they began to eat as well. Alice had brought far too much food for just the two of them, but she would rather have brought too much than too less.

  “Wonder what a cooked apple taste like.” Alice suddenly mused.

  “Ew.” Robin laughed.

  “Oh, come on, you’re not at least a little curious?” Alice asked.

  “Curiosity is your department my love,” Robin smirked.

  Alice returned the smirk before holding out her hand. “Let me borrow an arrow.”

  “Ew!” Robin laughed but gave her an arrow and watched her skewer the apple through the end, as well as several other bits of random fruit before turning and cooking them over the fire.

  It took her longer to cook it all than she thought it would, before she was finally turning back around and holding the skewer out in front of her, examine the slightly toasted fruit. Alice hesitated then took a small bite from each piece. Robin watched her closely the whole time, noting the fruit she shrugged off and the fruit she looked ready to spit out almost as soon as she put them in her mouth. It was hard not to laugh but she also found herself a little curious after all. After years of travelling and keeping on the move to avoid trouble, Robin was used to having most of her food fresh as possible. In fact, the idea of anything else was pretty bizarre.

  “Okay, your turn.” Alice said, holding the skewer of half-eaten food out to her.

  “No way! I never said I’d try it.” Robin said, pushing her hand away.

  “Please, for me.” Alice pouted playfully, leaning close to kiss her cheek and nuzzling into her neck softly.

  Robin tried to ignore her, but Alice began kissing along the side of her neck and whispering pleads into her ear, gently sucking on the skin until she left a small purple bruise in its place.

  “Okay, fine,” Robin said quickly as she moved to kiss her neck again, blushing slightly at how breathless she sounded. “I’ll try one piece.” She said, trying to retain some of her dignity.

  Alice beamed, holding the skewer out to her once more and allowing Robin to pick off the apple, one of the pieces she had seen Alice shrug off. When she placed it in her mouth, she was surprised that it didn’t taste as rotten as she expected to. However, she understood Alice’s shrug off, because while it wasn’t vile, it certainly wasn’t anything to go crazy for either. Robin certainly preferred the juice of freshly picked apples, that was for sure.

  “Happy?” Robin asked.

  “Ecstatic!” Alice beamed, leaning over and kissing the love bite she’d left under her ear before turning to some of the bite sized pies and carefully placing them by the fire to warm through.

  As time wore on, they continued to make their way through the picnic food. They didn’t have a particular order, going back and forth between eating some of the sandwiches that Alice had prepared to the pies Killian had brought for them and repeatedly finding themselves digging into the few of the treats they were meant to be saving for last as well.

  Because they spent most of their days together, there little to catch up on and instead they found themselves talking about the future instead. Despite two full years of officially being together now, Robin had yet to visit Wonderland and it was a place that Alice was eager to show her (there were other places she wanted to share as well, but unlike Wonderland, they were not so easily accessed – and they also had to be careful about time differences that might cause Robin some trouble with her mother). But despite the obstacles in their way, Alice still hoped to share each of the worlds she had seen with Robin. But while Alice was fully eager to simply go blindly into a situation and just see what happens when she gets there, she knew Robin preferred being prepared, which included everything from weapons to food supplies to a quick exit strategy should things take a wrong turn at any point. When Alice first realised this, she thought it would be irritating, but found she enjoyed those times with Robin. It wasn’t something she had done before, so it was a new kind of exciting to plan things out, like a secret mission.

  Things had been quiet for a while now, but since they lived in the Enchanted Forest, it was almost guaranteed that at least one major thing, if not a series of minor things, would go wrong eventually. Maybe then they would have the perfect excuse to drop everything and go on an adventure together…

  At one-point, Alice lay down with her head resting in Robin’s lap. She shut her eyes and let Robin surprise her with food she either cooked and collected cold, rubbing them softly against her lips, asking for permission to feed her the next piece, whatever it was. Every now and then Alice would try and guess what it was she had been given, but it turned out, Alice was a terrible guesser when it came to the taste of foods.

  “In what land does a melon piece taste like a grape?” Robin challenged.

  “Well they’re both sweet!” Alice argued.

  “It was a green grape.” Robin countered. “They are nowhere near as sweet as a piece of melon.”

  Alice stuck her tongue out at her. “Hey, try cooking a piece of melon.”

  “Is there anything you eat that you won’t also cook first?” Robin challenged.

  Alice grinned, opening her eyes and raising her brows suggestively, causing Robin to laugh aloud and lean down, kissing her quickly before she reached for chunky piece of melon. She skewered it into her bow – she was going to need to give this a proper clean after tonight – and grabbed a few pieces of bread and cheese from the sandwiches to join it before she set it standing upright in the ground by the fire. While she waited for it to cook, she turned back to Alice, stroking her hair gently and watching the peaceful girls face after she had closed her eyes once more. She almost looked like she was sleeping.

  “You’ve gone quiet.” Alice said, cracking one eye to look up at her.

  “I’m always quiet.” Robin noted. “You’re the one who hates silence.”

  “It feels awkward.” Alice said defensively.

  Giggling and continuing to stroke the hair on her forehead, Robin reached for an apple. Most of them had been cut up and prepared before her arrival but most of those were gone now, leaving only a few whole ones in its place.

  “Where’s the knife?” Robin asked, glancing over the blanket. Only now realising that there was a reason as to why she was using her arrows as skewers, instead of anything proper.

  “Uh… Funny story.” Alice said, sitting up and twisting to face her. “I kind of forgot it.”

  “So, you, what? Cut everything up and then brought it all here?” Robin laughed.

  “Actually, I brought it all here, then realised I forgot everything.” Before Robin could ask how she managed to cut everything, Alice reached behind them, into the bag that was now sitting by one of the stones on top of the blankets corner. She pulled out her father’s hook and held it up shyly. “Papa helped me out.”

  Robin was momentarily shocked before she burst out laughing. “You stole your father’s hook?”

  “Of course not. He loaned it to me.” Alice said defensively.

  “To cut food?” Robin grinned, raising an eyebrow.

  Alice shrugged. “He wanted to make sure this night went perfectly.”

  Robin felt the laughter die and she smiled softly, reaching over to take Alice’s hand in her own, entwining their fingers. “I’ll have to thank him the next time I see him.”

  Alice nodded slowly, moving to lean against Robin, placing the hook carefully down on the side. “I miss him.” She whispered after a second of silence.

  Robin didn’t need to ask what she meant. She saw him just that morning sure, but that wasn’t the same as being with him. Not when they couldn’t even risk getting to close to one another for fear that it would cause her father harm. It was as bad as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. And there was nothing any of them could do. The only thing that could probably save them would be True Love’s Kiss, but there was no way for Alice or Killian to do that when a single touch would be the death of him.

  With nothing else to say that could comfort her, Robin wrapped Alice in her arms, kissing her temple gentle before silently holding her. They sat there for a long time, the sun had begun a slow set before they began to smell something sickly and burnt in the air and realised they had forgotten about the food they had set aside to cook by the fire.

  “Woops…” Robin said, picking out the arrow from the ground and holding the pieces in front of Alice. Only a half of it had been burned, while the rest was still fresh. “Uh, still want to try the cooked melon?”

  Before Alice could give her a reply, the melon suddenly broke off the arrow and dropped to the ground, quickly followed by the melted cheese. They girls stared at the sticky-looking mess between them and burst into giggles. It wasn’t funny, but after the sudden seriousness, it felt like the most hilarious thing to happen and by the time they were done laughing, there were happy tears in Alice’s eyes again.

  “Okay, that has officially put me off the rest of this meal.” Robin said, pulling the toast from her arrow and throwing them back down onto the blanket, turning and leaning over to give Alice a quick kiss. “But it was all lovely. Thank you so much for my Valentine dinner.”

  “I’m glad you liked it.” Alice said, standing. “But the days not over just yet.”

  “There’s more?” Robin blinked.

  “Yes.” Alice grinned, moving the stones and beginning to pack up everything but the food, which she either tossed to the trees to be eaten or into the fire to dim the flames. “We need to finish what we started when you got here.”

  O*U*A*T

  They made it back to Alice’s temporary home – an abandoned one room cabin – just after the sun set, but they stayed up long afterwards, rolling around in the bed together and making an excessive amount of noise between them. That was the one benefit of Alice’s home compared to Robin’s. Normally they always ended up back at the Mills family farm, mostly because Robin’s bedroom was a lot warmer and more comfortable than the places that Alice stayed, but the one thing Alice’s cabin could give that Robin’s home couldn’t was the promise of privacy. There was no fear or any family members overhearing them or, worse, walking in during the middle of things.

  So, despite the fact that the bed was a touch too firm to what Robin was used to, and the blankets were the scratchy kind of wool that wasn’t so bad when you were tucked under but was very noticeable once you’d climb out of, neither girl regretted the position they ended up in. If only because that position included clinging to one another, skin to skin, and happily out of breath.

  They were both hot, a warm layer of sweat being the only thing between them anymore, but already Robin could feel the chill that lingered in the cabin. She reached over, not so willing to get dressed just yet, and instead pulled Alice’s body against hers, sharing their body heat and layering a series of kisses down along her neck and shoulders. After a few moments, Robin began to slide down, moving her kisses further along Alice’s chest and stomach instead. She was still feeling that content urge to just lay down and fall asleep by Alice’s side, but as of late Robin found herself growing stubborn. Stubborn enough that she didn’t want her nights with Alice to end. So, no matter what it was, Robin found herself doing everything to keep the night going for as long as possible.

   “When do you have to be back?” Alice whispered. There was no need – especially when you took into considering that she had been shouting very loudly just a few moments ago – but suddenly the moment felt like it should be a quiet one. Sad even. That sad, quiet moment just before Robin had to return home, leaving Alice alone for a long and lonely night.

  Robin lifted her head, pushing the wool blanket up to watch Alice’s face as she said cheerfully. “I don’t.”

  “Really?” Alice blinked.

  “Yeah, aunt Regina said she’d cover for me and give mum a hand with the farm chores.” Robin said, crawling up to kiss Alice gently. “So, you have me all night.”

  “Why didn’t you say so?!” Alice demanded, wrapping her arms around her neck.

  Before Robin could explain that she thought Alice had already realised this, she was pulled down for another deep kiss. Robin dropped to lie by her side, pressed her body close and sliding a leg between Alice’s thighs, pushing open Alice’s mouth and fighting for dominance for a short second before she relented and let Alice take control.

  Even later into the night, when the girls were officially too tired to do much more than lie side by side, arms loosely wrapped around each other, they still were both doing their best to avoid the sleep clinging to their eyelids, trying to force an end to their perfect day. When it became almost too dark for them to even see each other, Alice sat up to light a candle, placing it carefully on the side where her father’s hook was resting.

  “When are you going to give that back to him?” Robin asked as Alice tucked herself back down under the blanket with her. It was freezing cold outside of the bed now and neither girl was willing to embrace it long enough to get dressed. Not when they could so easily just embrace each other instead.

  “I’ll try and give it back to him tomorrow,” Alice mumbled, reaching over and pulling Robin close, pressing her face against Robin’s and letting out quiet sight of satisfaction.

  “Want company when you do?” Robin said, resisting the urge to yawn.

  “If you’re offering.” Alice grinned.

  “Yeah, I need to thank him partly for the best valentine’s present ever.” Robin beamed, reaching a hand up Alice’s face to twist her fingers lightly into her hair.

  Alice’s smile dimmed slightly, and she nodded, burying her face against Robin for a moment. She hated how perfect moments like these were ruined by the reality of her situation with her father. It just seemed so unfair that she could be so happy one moment, lying in Robin’s arms like nothing else in the world mattered, and then so miserable the next when she thought of how the chances of her ever being reunited with her father were growing slimmer and slimmer with every passing day. What if she never broke the curse? She’d always assured herself with the idea that they would eventually find a way to be together again but… What if they didn’t?

  “Alice… Talk to me…” Robin whispered, pressing kisses into the side of her face that was not hidden against her.

  “It’s nothing.” Alice said, sniffing and forcing a smile. “Just coming to the realisation that I’m probably never going to have it all. I can have you. But I can’t have everything.”

  “Is this about your dad?” Robin asked.

  Alice let out an unfunny laugh. “Isn’t it always?”

  “I wish I could do something…” Robin said quietly, rubbing her hand gently over Alice’s lower back.

  “You’re already doing all you can by just being here.” Alice whispered, kissing the side of Robin’s mouth and shutting her eyes. “Just promise you’ll be here when I wake.” She mumbled sleepily.

  “Of course.” Robin promised. “I’ll always be here. And even when I’m not right by your side, I’ll be close by and I’ll always return. I love you, Alice.”

  “I love you, Robin.” Alice mumbled.

  That night, long after Alice had fallen asleep, Robin stayed awake. She pondered her own parental situation. Like Alice, she only had one parent. Neither of them had known their other parent, either because of death or abandonment, but that was where their similarities mostly ended. While Alice only had her father to raise her, Robin had her mother, her aunt Regina and the whole of Storybrooke to tag in and help out when need be. She grew up in a community of people willing to help and none of them would ever let her not know everything about her deceased father that she could possibly know. Meanwhile, Alice had grown up in a tower, isolated from the world with only her father to raise and comfort her.

  And now, the witch who cursed them had taken even that from her. The only person she had ever known to love her, was physically stopped from being there for her. She had Robin, but that didn’t take away the pain from being unable to embrace the one and only parent she had ever had. Robin couldn’t even begin to imagine what that would be like. Even if she could imagine being cursed to never be able to embrace her mother again, that didn’t leave her alone like it did Alice.

  Robin kissed Alice’s sleeping forehead. Her love was probably one of the strongest people that Robin had ever met. Despite the misery of her life, despite having everything taken from her, she was still pushing through to the next day. She wasn’t sure if she would have been able to keep up with her if she was in the same position.

  Robin wished she could help her. She hated feeling so useless. All she could do was hold Alice in the night and make her feel loved, but she could do nothing for the pain of losing her father. Because in a way, even if she could see him at a distance, Alice had lost her father. And as much as Robin wanted to help, there was nothing she could do. Yet, she couldn’t just drop it and go to sleep. She still found herself thinking that there must be something. There had to be a way for Robin to help reunite her love with the only parent she had ever known.

  Suddenly Robin found herself wide awake, even more so than before. She had no idea what the time was, so she quietly climbed from the bed and walked over to the far window, looking out towards the sky. The moon was still out and bright, partially covered by the clouds but not overhead. It was late, but still Valentine’s day for a few more hours at least.

  “Robin?” Alice mumbled.

  She had been woken with a start by Robin’s rush to climb from the bed, accidentally jostling Alice when she had to climb over her to look out the window across the room from them. She pushed herself up, covering herself against the cold and climbing to her feet, making sure to stay wrapped in the wool blanket tightly as she stumbled over to where Robin was shivering in the moonlight. She was still half asleep, but the cold air was quickly waking her, and she only stumbled twice before she reached the other girl, instinctively wrapping them both in the blanket, protecting her from the cold night air that left goose bumps over her skin.

  “Are you alright?” Alice said, resting her chin on Robin’s shoulder. “What happened?”

  “Nothing.” Robin assured, turning and cupping Alice’s face between her hands. “I just realised I hadn’t given you your Valentine’s present yet.”

  “That’s all?” Alice said, yawning with a slight sleepy smile. God, she looked so cute. “You could have just given it to me in the morning.”

  “No. It has to be now. On this day.” Robin said firmly.

  “I don’t understand…” Alice mumbled, frowning slightly.

  “Alice. My original present was going to be a trip down to town tomorrow to buy you a new cloak or something, and I still will do that. But it will be an every day gift. Because of my Valentine gift, I give you my word.” Robin began seriously.

  “What? Just the one?” Alice grinned.

  “I give you my word,” Robin continued firmly. “That for as long as you are the love of my life and long after – though I assure you, there will never be an after – I will help you find a way to reunite with your father.”

  The smile died off of Alice’s face and she stood, stunned. “Robin…” She said finally.

  “I don’t care if it takes all our lifetimes. I don’t care how hard it is or what I must give up to make it happen.” Robin vowed. “We will find a way to break your curse. Together. Together we will make everything right and you will be with him again. I swear on the life of my own mother, and the death of my own father. It will happen.”

  Tears filled Alice’s eyes and began to trail down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead she pressed her lips together and reached up, covering Robin’s hands with her own. She didn’t even care when the blanket fell off them both and landed in a heap at their feet. She sniffed as she felt Robin gently brush one of the tears off of her cheek with her thumb and lean in to kiss away the other before she then slowly move and kissed Alice’s lips. Her touch was so gentle, like she was worried Alice might break if she were too rough.

  Finally, Alice shut her eyes and mentally calmed herself. When she opened them again, Robin was still leaning closer, watching her carefully and cradling her face. They were both shivering from the cold now but neither bothered to make any attempt to pick up the wool blanket. Instead they watched each other for a full minute of silence.

  Then: “Robin.” Alice took a breath then smiled. “Do you always have to one up me when we exchange gifts?”

  Robin’s intense expression broke away and burst into a giggle, ducking down to grab the blanket and rewrap it around them both, pulling Alice close. “What can I say, I’m a natural gift giver.”

  “Show off.” Alice grinned, blinking away the last of the tears and smiling softly. “But we have no idea how we’d even begin-”

  “Don’t even try and give me any form of talk about how we can’t do this.” Robin said quickly.

  “We could waste our whole lives searching for a way-” Alice began.

  “If my entire life is spent on an endless adventure with you, then it will never be a waste.” Robin insisted.

  Alice’s mouth hung open, but she couldn’t bring herself to argue. If there were any gift great enough to leave her speechless, it was this one. So instead she leaned forward, kissing Robin and pulling her back to the bed.

  Her exhaustion from moments ago was gone. She was going to show her gratitude in ways she couldn’t quite put into words.

  And in between that gratitude, midnight passed, and valentines came to a passionate end.

[doe-wiegenliedofgreen]

Chapter 4, Section 1–The Other End of Loss; Scene 3

Wiegenlied of Green (VG), page 227-240

♥ Clarith ~The Kingdom of Lucifenia, "The Corpa Estate"~

 .

"Clarith! Clarith!"

Just as I entered the Corpa mansion, someone hugged my legs while calling my name. It was the little miss; how nostalgic to hear her again.

"Miss Yukina…I'm so glad you're alright."

"Yeah! Papa and Mama, and my brother and sister are all okay!"

The whole Freezis family had been confined in the Lucifenian palace, but they were finally released the other day. I had heard on the way over that the Freezis estate had burned down while they were imprisoned, so they were currently staying in the Corpa mansion.

"I had to pay quite a bit of capital on this. Naturally, I'll get it back from Sir Keel later," Corpa said, laughing while patting his large stomach. There was chit-chat that him helping Sir Keel wasn't just because they were friends, but also to advance his own company by making him owe a debt of gratitude.

Miss Yukina grabbed me by the hand and brought me into one of the mansion's rooms, and in there was Mrs. Freezis.

"Clarith…! Thank goodness you're safe."

She stood from the soft-looking sofa and firmly embraced me.

"I'm most happy you're well yourself, Madam. …You look a little bit thinner."

"I don't much care for Lucifenian food. I'd rather eat the dishes you prepared for us."

"You're too kind. In that case I'll make preparations right away."

I had intended to smile, and laugh. But my cheeks were stiff and it didn't come across.

"It's alright, Clarith. For now you just get some rest." Mrs. Freezis patted my cheek with her pretty, smooth hand. "Learning about Michaela was…painful."

"…You're certain, then? That it was--that Michaela was…"

"Yes. Judging by the features of this 'Daughter of Green' that the assassin spoke of… It's tragic, but I think we can be sure."

There was the truth that I hadn't wanted to believe. It pierced into me, and my eyes overflowed with tears.  

"…Oh, Michaela…why…?"

And I collapsed onto the floor, continuing to cry for a very, very long time.

Everyone was dead. My mother, everyone in the village, and Michaela.

Michaela, who had been so kind. Michaela, who was loved by everyone.

I should have died in her place. I had jumped before the Lucifenian shoulders back then with that in mind.

Why? Why had things turned out like this?

.

The entire time I continued to cry, Mrs. Freezis and Miss Yukina stayed by my side, without saying a word.

"Have you settled down, Clarith?" Mrs. Freezis said to me in a kind voice, after my tears had stopped. Though that was less that I had stopped crying, and more that I had cried myself empty and no more could come out. "You look awful. Wipe your face with this."

I took the beautiful handkerchief that she handed to me and wiped the tears off my cheeks.

Here, wipe your face with this.

Come to think of it, Michaela had handed me a handkerchief to me as I was sobbing after my mother's funeral, hadn't she? My chest grew hot at remembering.

"Clarith? Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Miss Yukina. …By the way, where is Master Keel?"

I realized that I hadn't seen him once since entering the mansion. When I asked the madam, she grimaced a little bit.

"He's talking with some other guests in the room next door."

"I see… I had thought about going to greet him..."

"I think that's alright? I know Keel wants to see you soon too. Not to mention the guests are a tad wild, so I'm concerned for him. …Could you go see how it's going?"

Was that the truth? Or was that just out of her concern for me?

"-sigh- …Of course."

I left from the room, and knocked on the door of the one nearby.

"I apologize for interrupting. May I come in?"

"Oh! Yes, of course, come in."

When I opened the door, Lord Keel stood from his chair and drew close to me, looking glad.

"So it is you, Clarith! I was worried."

"I'm more pleased that you're well, Lord Keel… About Michaela…I'm so sorry for being unable to do as you instructed…"

"Don't fret over that so much. In times of war such a thing was inevitable. And anyway…I'm the one who needs to apologize."

"Huh…?"

"No, nevermind. Forget what I just said."

Expression becoming gradually clouded, Lord Keel finally took his gaze off of me.

"Lord Keel…?"

"Perhaps we ought to step outside?"

The one who spoke up then was a woman wearing red. A strong-willed looking beauty whose short brown hair suited her. Next to her, a one-eyed man was folding his arms with a displeased expression on his face. Just like the madam said, they did give off a rough sort of impression.

"Ah, sorry. Shall we continue our conversation?"

"I'm terribly sorry for getting in the way. I'll excuse myself."

I cowered at being stared at so fixedly. I bowed, intending to quickly leave the room, and the woman in red stopped me.

"Wait a second. Mr. Keel, if it's alright with you I'd like her to listen in on our conversation. This is her, right? This 'Clarith' you mentioned earlier. If so, then like us she has a grudge against the Lucifenian palace. In that case…"

"Hold on a moment, Germaine! Do you plan to let even this child into the resistance? She doesn't even look like she can fight!"

"Right now we need as many allies as possible. And whether she does or not is for her to decide."

The woman in red and the one-eyed man spoke to each other. Resistance? Fight? What in the world were they talking about? I discreetly glanced at Lord Keel, and he didn't look to be terribly pleased.

"Clarith, let me start at the beginning. I am Germaine, and this man is York. We're currently planning to start a revolution in Lucifenia. We came today to ask for aid towards that end, but…to be honest, we're insufficient on funds and people."

Germaine stood and leisurely walked around the room while making her speech. Her and her comrades were all people who had a grievance with the Lucifenian palace, and Princess Riliane. They promised that in the event of the revolution's success, they would take back the fortune that the palace members had confiscated from Lord Keel, on the condition that he provide financial assistance (though Lord Keel had said it was a trivial sum).

"Clarith. If you want to avenge your murdered friend, then I want you to join the resistance. Don't you want to take revenge with your own hands?"

Revenge on the princess. I had never considered that. I couldn't help but hate Riliane for killing Michaela. But I had never thought of myself as being able to do anything about it.

"…Please give me some time to think about it."

"I understand. It's an important matter, so give it some thought before deciding. Oh and of course, mum's the word on this. If you were to tell someone else about this…"

Germaine walked closer to me in a threatening manner. Lord Keel cut in, as though intending to stop her, "I can reassure you on that point. She's not a tell-tale."

"I see. …I hope you will cooperate with us on the matter of your aid, Mr. Keel."

"I don't know, you see it's not something with much benefit for me. Well, I'll consider it."

Lord Keel dodged the matter with an indifferent tone at Germaine's emphasis. In actuality, he didn't seem to be that eager.

"It's about time we take our leave for today. We'll be intruding in on you again sometime soon. Let's go, York."

York gave a flat reply, and Germaine left the room with him. After the door had closed with a bang, I once again faced Lord Keel.

"…What frightening people."

"Were they? They looked to me like they were just bluffing."

"They--did?"

"Ha ha, who knows? Well then, Clarith. It must have been a considerable distance getting here from Toragay, hm? Just rest for today. Right now you're not here as a servant, but a guest of this mansion. If you need something just ask one of Corpa's servants to do it for you."

"Okay…I will do that, then."

Compared to my house in Yatski village and the servant's quarters in the Freezis estate, the room that the servant led me to was infinitely more gorgeous. Immediately overcome with exhaustion, I fell down on the bed. It was soft and fluffy, and appeared very comfortable to sleep on, but for some reason I was conversely unable to settle down.

And like that, I slept like I was dead.

 .

Several days passed since then. I spent it doing nothing in particular, outside of acting as Yukina's playmate. The mansion's servants did all of the miscellaneous chores for me.

With nothing to do, I spent my time thinking too much.

Was there no other way to save Michaela, back then? I knew that even if there had been, there was no way that I could I go back in time to do it over, but I couldn't help but think about that.

Was there hope for me anywhere? I ran my thoughts around, one by one. But waiting for me at the end of it all was merely an endless despair that I couldn't go back to that time anymore.

"Clarith, I'm coming in."

I heard a knock, and Lord Keel came into the room. He was working more here at this mansion than he had been in Elphegort. There were dark circles under his eyes, suggesting he hadn't been sleeping lately.

"Lord Keel…you should have called for me, I would have come to you…"

"Now now, you don't need to concern yourself with me. I wanted to talk to you today about what will come after this. Can I sit here?"

I told him I didn't mind, and he took a seat in a wooden chair near the entrance to the room.

"Relating to the resistance we spoke of earlier, I have decided to throw in with them. I've done some investigation, and it seems that the way things are going they're going to be the ones with the advantage. I plan to bet on the winning horse."

"I see…"

"So what will you do? Will you join them?"

I hung my head, unable to keep looking directly at Lord Keel's eyes, so full of self-confidence.

"No, I intend to refuse. After all, I don't even have the courage to wield a sword," I replied quietly.

Yes, I was a coward. Though my desire for revenge against the princess grew day by day, I couldn't help but become afraid when I thought about actually putting it into practice.

I didn't have the courage to kill someone.

"I see. Yes, I think that's fine. A revolution doesn't suit you, Clarith." Lord Keel continued speaking, expression unchanging--as though he had expected that to be my answer. "Well then, as for what I'll do afterwards. My mansion in Elphegort has burned down, so I'm planning to return to my home country of Marlon. I don't have many good memories there, but those people who had once hunted me are gone now, and there are limits to the work that I can do here."

The country of Marlon…I had never been there in person, but I had heard it was a very prosperous nation compared to the likes of Lucifenia and Elphegort, and surrounded by the sea.

"If you like, you're welcome to work as one of my servants there. You'll be living in a land that's not familiar to you, but it's such a nice and easy place to live that I think you'll adjust to it quickly.

That might not be so bad. I considered a life in that country across the sea. I would do laundry, clean, and cook for Miss Yukina in Lord Keel's mansion, just like I had before. And at times when it was painful or upsetting, I would go to meet Michaela in the…

No. I couldn't. I couldn't go back anymore. Michaela's smiling face and beautiful voice no longer existed there.

My beloved Michaela wouldn't be there anymore.

Before I knew it, tears were on my cheeks. I'd resolved not to cry anymore, and yet at being reminded of all of it I couldn't stop crying.

No matter how many days passed, no matter how many years passed, I knew I would never be able to forget Michaela.

"I am grateful for your sympathy. But I'm sorry, I can't go with you all. If I was with you and your family, I would always be…"

"Reminded of Michaela?"

"Yes…"

Lord Keel stood, walked over to the window, and gazed at the scenery outside. The extravagant great Levin church was visible from there.

“Clarith, do you believe in God?”

“I didn’t before. But…now I do.”

“I see.”

He acted as though he was thinking about something for a moment, and then broached the topic to me.

“There’s a small port city in the far west of this country. In there is a Held monastery--unusual in this country--that was built with my donations. Would you be interested in working there?”

“You mean becoming a nun?”

“No no, I’m not saying you join the faith or anything. They've established an orphanage as well, but it seems they're understaffed. I thought perhaps you could help out there for a short while. It’s a good place where you can see the sea. I think it would be just perfect for giving your heart a rest, but--what do you think?”

“The…sea?”

In the land-locked village Yatski where I had been raised, I had never seen the sea.

“And if you should find that life suits you, you could become a nun there. Although personally I'd still like for you to come back to live with us. Without you around, Yukina’s bound to be lonely.”

There were people who needed me, even like this. But I…

“Clarith. This will sound harsh but Michaela is dead. That’s tragic, but it’s the truth. However, you are still alive. I don’t know what comes next but as long as you’re alive, I want you to live happily. And I truly think that that’s what Michaela would have wanted too.

When I was sad, Michaela would cry with me. If I smiled, would Michaela smile with me in heaven?

“I don’t intend to say that you should live for Michaela now. Michaela was Michaela, and you are you.”

Michaela protected me. At the same time, she had wanted me to become stronger. I had endeavored on my own to answer her wish, and I thought that I had become just a little bit stronger than I had been in the past. If I became weak again, surely she would also grieve.

“…I understand. I think I will go live at that monastery.”

“I see. Well then, I'll get in contact with them. Just remember this, Clarith. Even if we’re apart, you’re a member of our family.”

“…Thank you.”

He held out his right hand. I tightly grasped it in mine.

 .

The next day, I headed to a bar in town, and met with Germaine and York. I went there to give them mine and Lord Keel's replies.

Germaine had looked regretful at my response, but she didn’t make any attempt to stop me.

.

The day that I headed out for the monastery at the port town, Lord Keel and his family all gathered to see me off together.

While sobbing, Miss Yukina gave me a heavy book that she had treasured. It was a bound collection of all the countless stories she had written until now.

The carriage started to move, and I continued to wave at everyone, even after I could no longer see them.

 .

Thank you. And, goodbye.

My other family.

<<prev------directory------next>>

[statonelisabet]

The Fool of Saltwater Springs, Part Two.

Find part one here:   https://statonelisabet.tumblr.com/post/615078088162803712/the-fool-of-saltwater-springs-part-1?fbclid=IwAR3DoKgeCCgQUByzrPPqHwIHe5ur8BgwGaHdLjCUfOTzTfnfJxOtyPap-jo

         Little Jack Wilson received precisely what he had expected. A slew of invitations followed his act, invitations to eat and stay and perform more miracles. He accepted the inn keeper’s invitation to break his fast at the tavern, and for a while, the mob was kept at bay while he ate. Jack heartily consumed his first full meal since he’d left St. Louis the month before. He had hoped to spend some time with the innkeeper, whose name he never could quite remember, but the man had left as soon as he settled Jack in with Maisie the waitress. Jack waited a while after he ate, then ventured out into the now-blazing sun, which had apparently forgotten its moment of shyness behind the clouds earlier in the day, to greet his public.

           “Oh, sir, you’re a miracle worker, ain’tya?” A young lady asked him as soon as he had left the tavern. The glare of the day was so bright he could barely see her wringing her hands or the dramatic fretting on her face, but he did his best to appraise her. She was beautiful, if her nose had been smaller, and charming, if her voice were less shrill, but Jack nevertheless felt her worthy of his first attentions. Her husband hovered behind her, but Jack had never had much fear of husbands before.

           “Well ma’am, I’m a wizard,” Jack replied demurely. “A miracle or two can happen I’m sure, but as it is I only promise magic.”

           “I reckon that’s near enough, sir,” she said fervently. She grabbed his hands and stared up into his eyes, her own gaze wide and tearful. “Please, sir, you’ve got to come and help my grandpappy with the cancer.”

           Now Jack was surely a charlatan, but he had just enough of a conscience to want nothing to do with dyin’ grandpappies. Something akin to fear gripped Jack’s gut as he turned the thought over in his mind. He hadn’t anticipated being asked to heal. He would fail, of course; there’s not much fireworks can do for the cancer, but there had to be a way for him to spin his failure. He needs money for a compound to help, that might work. “I’m not sure as healin’ is the best use of magic, ma’am,” he said, trying to avoid the whole matter.

           “Well,” her husband said, his black eyes barely visible under the brim of his white hat. He moseyed his hand from his belt buckle the size of Kentucky to let it rest on the grip of his gun. “You is a wizard, ain’tya?”

           Jack gulped. “Sure am,” he said tightly, preparing himself for the failure and explanation to come. The woman pulled Jack into the doctor’s office and through several doors until they came to the room the old man had livin’ in for weeks. Jack’s vision was still blurred from the beers he’d drunk and the sun that he’d looked directly into, so he just barely made out the shape of ol’ grandpappy sat in his rocking chair, unmoving, his eyes closed. His skin was weathered and creased like old leather, dark and spotted. The woman pushed Jack forward into the tiny room, but she, her husband, and the onlookers who could fit into the room behind them stayed back to watch a magic man at his work.

           Jack sighed, and gulped, and with his eyes shut tight, he put his hand on the old man’s forehead. Grandpappy twitched at the touch, but Jack didn’t see the motion. Instead Jack’s attention was drawn to something else altogether: the geezer’s skin was icy cold, and a new dread came over Jack.

Ol’ grandpappy was long dead. His public was expecting magic, though. He steeled his nerves and muttered a long string of fancy-soundin’ nonsense. He took a step back, danced in a slow, awkward circle, and returned to the man. He shut his eyes and snapped his fingers on either side of the man’s head.

           “Yeeee-HAW!” Grandpappy shouted, and burst forward with such force that his head collided with Jack’s, knocking the wizard over. Jack stared in disbelief as the man, who moments before had been so clearly dead, took hold o’ his new lease on life. Grandpappy jumped out of his chair, grabbed his granddaughter who had been standing by the innkeeper in the crowd, and they two-stepped their way out of the room. He was clearly no longer dead. The woman’s husband grabbed Jack’s hand and lifted the magic man to his feet.

           “You look surprised,” the man commented.

           “I knew he’d be fine, of course,” Jack replied quickly, handily covering for his momentary surprise. He dusted off his black coat and straightened his hat. “The dancing was a bit of an experiment, I wasn’t sure it would work but, of course! It did.”

           “You set them to dancin’, then?”

           Jack hesitated for the briefest of moments then said, “Not in so many words. Oh, look there, someone’s calling for the wizard. Excuse me.”

           Jack slipped past the woman’s husband and met with a bustling crowd of needy townsfolk. He stopped on the steps of the porch and watched as the old man, formerly dead, changed partners and inspired a fiddler to fiddle and a drummer to drum. The cacophony of the town and the crowd was deafening, and they were all clamoring for Jack. Little Jack Wilson easily looked past the unexpected miracle of reviving the old man as he stepped forward among the people, surrounded by clamoring pleas for help and cheers of praise.

           “Jack! Here!” A man grabbed Jack by the arm and shouted into his face. “I’ll need your help, Jack.”

           “Right-o,” Jack replied and followed the man to the horse he had spooked the day before.

           “Look there,” the man said, lifting the horse’s leg. Jack, who had never spent much time with horses, had absolutely no clue what it was supposed to look like. The man continued, “That’s a mighty stone is caught up in that shoe. I can’t seem to get a grip of it.”

           “Well, I’m sure you’ll get it eventually,” Jack replied quickly, trying to step away. The hardest thing is to con a man about something he’s an expert in.

           “After what you done for the McMahans, this shouldn’t be much for a man o’your talents,” he countered, his gaze boring a hole into Jack’s lyin’ eyes. Jack sighed and placed a hand over the horse’s hoof. He again muttered a string of nonsensical but important sounding words and removed his hand. The man immediately dropped to his knee and examined the hoof, holdin’ his hands over it so Jack couldn’t see anythin’ more than callous and dirty nails. The cowboy came up cheering, holding the stone up like a piece of shinin’ gold.

           “He’s done it!” He cried out, and the crowd cheered in reply.

           Jack was again dumbfounded by his apparent ability to do magic. He didn’t think he’d done anythin’ particularly magical, and whatever real magickin’ he’d done was certainly not a’purpose. He wasn’t about to complain about the situation. Whatever was happening, whatever he had managed to do, was certainly workin’ in his favor. The people would certainly begin throwin’ money his way soon, if’n he could keep this goin’.  He prayed he’d be able to do just that. And, Lord and his hosts willin’, nothin’ more in the way o’ healin’.

           “I thank you all for your kind attention!” Jack screeched. The crowd was so noisy he had to screech little, but the folks in the front heard ‘im okay. Pretty soon the crowd fell silent and awaited the Great Magic Man to speak. “I am weary now from my great deeds, but it is my sincerest wish to fulfill all of your sincerest wishes. Alas I must now retire.”

           He forced his way through the crowd, resisting grabbing hands and pleading voices, and safely made it to the tavern in the inn. He sat down in the darkest corner of the bar and just about collapsed. He wilted at that table like a daisy, and he sat in the dark for hours, his head in his hands. The barkeep had sent over food and drink, which Jack had barely touched.

The innkeeper made his way to Jack’s table, two pints in his hands, and sat down. Jack sat in sullen silence, exhaustion and reality settling into his bones at once.

“That’s a lot of miraclin’ you done today, son,” Josiah said casually and took a swig.

“Yeah,” Jack replied simply. He didn’t dare meet Josiah’s eye.

“Lots’a folks come in this afternoon, you was all the chatter they had,” Josiah watched Jack carefully as he spoke. “Imagine folks’ll be anxious to see what’s comin’ next. We’ll be closin’ up down here in a minute.” With that, Josiah rose from the table, patted Jack solidly on the shoulder, and took Jack’s untouched beer with him.

Jack’s predicament dawned on him good and slow. He did not believe in magic, but you’d have to be a damned fool indeed to deny what he’d had clearly seen, and even done. He had raised a man from the dead. He stared at his hands, his suddenly magical hands, and found himself desperate to leave town, to drop the con and move on. How could he leave town? All eyes were on him, expecting him to fulfill their sincerest wishes. Those were his words. This was his most successful con, and all he wanted to do was run. Josiah stomped his way down the stairs just before dawn, as the blue morning light came pouring through the swinging panels in the doorway, to find Jack sitting exactly where he’d been the night before.

           “Where is the Wizard?” A woman ran into the tavern near twilight. Jack had had the entire night to himself, to wallow in the darkness undisturbed, but now he was called forth again. “Where is he?”

           “In the corner, there,” Josiah replied without looking up from the glass he was cleaning.

           “Oh, Great Wizard,” she cried, kneeling at Jack’s feet. “My husband’s been made a toad. The medicine man cursed him. Oh please, you must break the curse! Come!”

           “Did you try kissing the toad?” Jack asked sleepily, but she didn’t hear him.

           She grabbed his hands and pulled him out of the bar. He did not have a chance to think about the situation before he had arrived in the town square, where he found a pile of men’s clothes sitting on a platform that hadn’t been there the day before. Jack stood between the crowd and the platform, awkwardly moving his hands for want of something more useful to do with them. “He’s up there, in that pile there! Go on, then!”

           Jack opened his mouth and shut it again. Fear had caught up with him, and a crippling need to consistently fail had reared its ugly head. But he went about his hand liftin’ and nonsensical mutterin’, with a sprightly hope that’d do a hound dog proud for the magic to keep on workin’. He muttered for good and long. He was sure that if he stopped talking, nothing at all would happen and the townsfolk would turn on him, probably hang him on the gallows he was standin’ in front of.

Were the gallows there yesterday? He asked himself as liquid fear seeped into his stomach and a little further south. He had to stop talking eventually.

           “Et iffah non shu mel eck heil shey!” he cried out finally, his hands shaking in the air. He dropped his arms to his sides and hung his head in the shame that would almost certainly follow. But there went an explosion, goin’ off by his head so close he smelled his hair burnin’, and he looked up.

There was a man lying on the gallows platform in front of him. Jack fell to his knees and wept, from relief and confusion and fear of what they would make him do next.

           “Jeremiah!” The woman cried, and she ran up the stairs to greet her newly transformed husband. The mob had naturally turned again to cheering, a cacophony of voices surrounding Jack, who was clearly having his finest hour.

           “Wait a minute,” someone said suddenly, stepping forward to look at Jack. “Show me your hands, son.”

“What?” Jack asked, but he lifted his hands anyway. He opened his eyes to see the innkeeper reaching for his hands.

“There!” Josiah gripped Jack’s wrist tightly, too tightly, and held it palm up for everyone to see. “That line there. He ain’t no wizard!”

           “What do you mean?” Asked Matthew the sheriff as he stepped out of the crowd.

           “I mean, he’s no wizard,” Josiah said. “Look at that mark there. He’s a witch!”

           The crowd gasped. None of them had, at any point in the day, considered that the man might be a witch, or that his powers might have come from some evil source. Now they could clearly see that the man was indeed a witch, and his powers were indeed evil, and that therefore, he must be imprisoned and hung upon the morning. For this is what is done to witches in backwards, podunk towns where the people will believe anything if you can make it rain.

           “Burn him!” Someone cried out. “Don’t do that!” another voice replied. “You’ll burn the whole town! Hang him!”

           Jack ripped his hands away from the man and pulled himself to his feet. He backed away from the crowd, staring at them wild-eyed. “I’m not doing magic, I swear!” He cried out. “I don’t know what’s happening!”

           “He’s a liar! Hang him!”

           “Alright,” Matthew shouted. “Alright! Enough! Come with me, son.”

           The sheriff tied Jack’s hands behind his back and dragged him away to the jailhouse. Jack was too scared to do any kickin’ or screamin’, but he was going for gold on a grown man whinin’. The sheriff threw him, with no ceremony or gentleness, into the jail cell and locked the bars. Matthew sat at his desk, across from the jail cell, and began to write a report on what had happened. Not many sheriffs wrote these reports, but he found it helped when inconsistent stories began popping up.

           “I swear to you, I am no witch,” Jack pled again.

           “Oh, of course,” the sheriff replied haughtily. “You’re a wizard.”

           “I’m neither! I’m the son of a lawyer, I can’t do magic at all!”

           “Son,” the sheriff put a hand on his knee and looked Jack square in the eye. “Bein’ born of a lawyer is reason enough for hangin’ round these parts. Now be quiet, and let me do my reportin’, and don’t get any of those fancy ideas. Those bars are solid steel, see, and ain’t no magickin’ can get through those.”

           He returned to his reportin’ and left Jack to wallow in silence. The sheriff finished writing, left the jailhouse, and went home. As the night wore on, Jack began to sweat, and shiver, and shake. This was the end for him. The con had seemed so successful when he started, but it all went haywire somewhere along the way. Jack didn’t sleep at all. He watched the moon move across the sky through the tiny window in his jail cell wall, and waited. Dawn finally broke, a breeze blowing through the shaky wall and Jack sighed heavily. He knew the sheriff would be coming soon, coming to hang him on the gallows.

           “Well,” Jack said, staring at the wall behind the cot. It didn’t seem a very sturdy wall, what with it shakin’ with every good breeze in the night. Jack wondered, “Why not?”

And with that, he placed his hands against the wall, desperately shoutin’ his important sounding nonsense. As he spoke, he felt the wall beneath his hands begin to shake more and more violently until finally, it fell. He stared at the opening in disbelief. The early morning breeze blew over him and he shook off the spell, then took off running, without even a little look behind him. If only he had bothered to look back, he’d’a known more about how he came to truly be a magic man.

           The inn keeper and the sheriff stood on either side of the false wall, watching the con man run away like the coward he was. Josiah the inn keeper dropped the pulley rope and crossed his arms, sighed heavily, then turned to the sheriff.

           “I still think we should’a hung him,” Josiah said as he unhooked the pulley ropes from the fake walls. “That man is wastin’ perfectly decent air every time he opens that mouth o’ his.”

           “Nah,” the sheriff replied as he helped Josiah undo the wall they had built in the night. “Be too messy. Besides, the fool thinks he can do magic. Let the next town hang ‘im.”

[seattleboundwritergrl]

Greatest Expectations (Processing this whole motherhood thing...) Part I

As of my writing this (as in this very sentence), my baby, Apollo Marcel, is ten and a half weeks old. Who knows how old he will be when I finish. I expected to be able to write this weeks ago--well, I did and I didn’t. But I will get to that, this whole post is going to be about expectations. I will start by saying, though that I don’t know how long to expect it will take me to write this. I’m typing in the dark as he is asleep but sort of stirring in the bassinet next to the bed. It was a rough night, an overtired night for everyone, and of course I should be sleeping too, but I can’t because my mind is whirring. I am typing slowly because it’s actually been awhile since I’ve used a computer rather than my phone and I’ve even been using voice to text on that more often than not. It feels like I’m actually conversing then, with the people I am messaging most which is mainly my friends with children, especially those in the thick of this newborn phase as well. Also it means I am talking around Apollo which is important. I suppose it is good for him even when I am fretting or venting to these friends. But anyway, I digress...

Expectations. Well, my expectations were fucked from the beginning. When I started trying to get pregnant, even though I was... shit, math, dates... 35? 36? and had been on the pill since a month before my 18th birthday (that I remember clearly), I thought I would get pregnant quickly. In fact I had something like a six month window where I felt like things would work out for my life--so I could teach the class I needed to teach to make maternity leave money and allotting enough time before I expected to have a book out (ha, that’s a whole other set of expectations that got skewed.) I didn’t get pregnant in those six months. In fact, it would take a year beyond those six months and I would get pregnant right before we planned to start fertility treatments in earnest (and I mean besides the acupuncture, the diets, the herbs, the ATMAT massage, etc etc). It was a whole lot of a heartache--a still unwritten essay’s worth of heartache--not to mention really triggering as a sexual abuse survivor. Cue a whole lot of feelings about my body being broken. But the month I got pregnant, I feel like despite month after month of false hope, I knew, I really knew. I knew I was pregnant. I knew the time was perfect. I also knew I was having a boy, even though I’d always wanted a girl. All the bullshit I’d found really hard to swallow on my darkest days over that year and a half of trying--that it will happen when it is meant to, turned out to be true. I’d changed jobs at work and a had a really supportive boss. I’d accrued a lot more PTO. Most important of all, I’d been in therapy for a good stretch of time.

Therapy helped me immensely with my perfectionism, my need to control things, my self-doubt. I worked through the things that caused that, the things I knew would hinder me as a parent. Not all the things, I’m sure. As someone who has been in therapy since she was a teenager, it seems there are always More Things. I thought, because of this, I had some fairly reasonable expectations about how all of this would go and how I would react. I thought, in fact, that I’d done a pretty good job of not having expectations, of being ready to go with the flow. And I do want to give myself credit and say that I did a pretty good job--a way better job than I would have a year or a year-and-a-half earlier--but of course it is impossible (at least for me) to have zero expectations and be totally zen especially about something as huge about bringing a child into the world. So I did my best, but I still had expectations, hopes that weren’t met and I’m still processing them.

Expectation number 1: That my baby would be born into a world where we’d elected the first female president of the United States not one where the piece of garbage running at the helm is a completely unqualified old white man who is a sexual assault criminal and somehow cannot seem to utter the words NAZIS ARE BAD. The election took place the day before we saw our baby’s heart beating for the first time. It was equal parts hopeful and terrifying, especially for someone who put off having kids for so long because she was afraid of bringing one into a dystopian hellscape. Because of the Trump presidency, the weird pregnancy dreams that I was looking forward to (because I am a weirdo who loves having weird dreams) were all nightmares. Like constantly. And I am a white woman living in Seattle. I can’t imagine how pregnant people of color felt during this time. I also expected that I would be able to do more to resist during my pregnancy and maternity leave than I have. I have to remember that this is a long fight and I will be a more active part of it when I have the physical and mental capacity and right now I am focused on growing a white male who will not be a garbage human.

The birth itself also did not go as I’d hoped. I have a NICU nurse for a mother and a Labor and Delivery nurse cousin, so I felt I had a pretty real grasp on how things could go. I would aim for a natural childbirth, but accept that I would have the baby however I needed to in order to assure that he and I were healthy. That’s all that mattered at the end of the day. So I practiced breathing and meditation. I went to childbirth classes and Scott and I practiced the techniques we learned there and through the hypnobirthing resources I’d gathered. I saw the nurse midwives at my practice and went to Centering Pregnancy for my prenatal care. I got a doula, a woman with the best energy I’d ever felt, who I knew would provide the calm support we needed. I spoke honestly with her about my abuse history. I worked on those fears with my therapist. I will say that the one thing I am so proud of, and my doula, Jessica, emphasized how proud I should be, is that I chose to get the epidural when I knew I needed it. Was I as dilated as I thought I would be? No. Did I use the tub as much as I thought? Also no. Did I get to eat the food I’d ordered. Quite unfortunately no. But there came a point where I recognized very quickly that the pain was triggering. That I was screaming NO at my contractions, and my No, obviously was not going to be respected. That soon I would freeze. I would check out and disassociate. That was the one thing I did not want--to disassociate during my son’s birth. So I said, “Platypus Pancakes,” which was my epidural safe word(s). And I felt good about it and my midwife, who had run my Centering group and also knew my history and worked so carefully with me, laughed and told me that that fact that was my code made him love me even more.

However, despite this moment of pride, despite the amazing support of my team and my partner, my birth was still traumatic. Apollo was fine--he was chill throughout the whole thing (well, after breaking the amniotic sac before I had contractions and kickstarting the whole process). There was not a blip on the monitor and for that of course I am grateful, but he was in a slightly bad position (which I suspected because of the pelvic pain I’d had through much of pregnancy) and he was a much bigger baby than anyone expected. Seven or seven and a half pounds, the midwives kept guessing, which seemed right. But ultimately he was 8 pounds 9 ounces. For these reasons, I could not get him out after 5 hours of pushing and was told I needed a cesarean. That 5 hours of pushing had done a number on me. I had horrible back pain, like so bad I was scared I would never be okay and scared I wouldn’t be able to be still on the operating table. It was not helpful that suddenly we were in medical mode. I couldn’t process anything. I couldn’t have another ice chip even though I was dehydrated as fuck. I was told by the emotionally tone deaf anesthesiologist that if my back pain wasn’t managed by the additional epidural or whatever it was they were doing, that they would just put me out. The idea that I would be unconscious for my son’s birth was beyond scary. Unsurprisingly, my blood pressure on the table was extraordinarily high. I wasn’t aware of it--dissociation was happening at that point for sure--but my doula would tell me later that it scared her. That’s why she was trying to get me to breathe. 

 The thing that brought me back in the OR was the doctor’s pronouncement that my son had a big head. I may have even laughed. Of course he did. The size of the male Kuehnert noggin is pretty legendary. But I was still out of sorts--able to watch my baby from across the room as the rubbed him down, able to hear his cries, able to yearn to have him on me right that second as I’d hoped for all along--but definitely not physically or mentally where I expected to be, where I wanted to be. And that has continued to plague me through these past ten weeks.

I think I’ll continue this in another post though because it has gotten long. He allowed me to write most of it in one sitting and is now down for another nap, but this seems a natural stopping point, so... To Be Continued When I Am Able