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writeforfandoms · 3 years ago

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We Can Climb So High

Find my masterlist and series masterlist

In which you and Pero return to the RenFaire one year later.

Okay. A few notes before we jump into this one.

This series started off from a couple other people plotting, and I asked if I could run with the idea. I never expected it be read by more than maybe a dozen people. So thank you to everyone who has given this series your time. I appreciate every one of you. 💖

Second, this is not truly the end of the series. However, it is the last real idea I have for these two. If you have things you wanna know about them, please ask! I can talk about these two and their silly little adventures all day long. And who knows? Maybe a question will spark an idea...

Okay. Here we go!

Warnings: Pero, swearing, grumpiness, mysteries, we don’t have all the answers and that’s okay.

Word count: 3.7k

"Do we really have to?" Pero asked with a soft groan.

"Yes." You didn't leave any room for objections, smiling as you straightened your shirt. "Come on. Let's go."

Pero sighed heavily but trudged after you. He had already objected. Multiple times. He'd given up on trying to truly dissuade you. Now he was just grumbling to grumble.

You locked up the apartment and walked with Pero down to street level, and then started the route towards the park where RenFaire was held.

Just like last time, you stopped in at the bakery and got orange scones and coffees for you and Pero. This time, you were able to order his coffee how he liked, and you got him an extra slice of banana bread. Because he was a black hole, especially for sweets.

The two of you devoured your goodies while you walked, and you reached over to brush some crumbs from his moustache. Pero surprised you by capturing your hand in one of his, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. Your heart leapt.

"Pero…"

"Hush," he grumbled, blushing and looking away. But he didn't release your hand.

Smiling and definitely a little giddy from the easy show of affection, you pulled out tickets for the two of you. Getting through security was easy, but only because you'd argued Pero into not bringing any weapons. (That had been a big battle. It had spanned days. There had even been a couple instances of one or the other of you walking out of a room. You had finally compromised that Pero could bring one of his practice swords that he used for lessons, but only because it was wood and he could hide it under his shirt against his back.)

And then you were in again. You took a deep breath, already able to smell the roasting turkey legs and beer.

"Where do you want to go first?" You asked Pero, excited.

He shrugged, unenthused. "You choose. I don't care."

"Spoil sport." But you grabbed his hand and started in towards the main portion of the fair. Some shopping first, you decided. Then snacks and a show or two. Lunch. Maybe you'd let Pero watch some of the fighting as a treat.

Pero took the first bag from the vendor before you had even finished paying. And refused to give it to you. You rewarded him with a kiss to the cheek, which both made him blush and look very proud.

The two of you spent a good two hours walking around, with you tucked close to his side as you walked through the crowds. You bought extra goodies for him to snack on, since you knew he would. And he only manhandled you once, to pull you out of the way of a couple performers. You smiled and kept hold of his hand after that, at least for a bit.

The two of you were just passing by the Tardis (and you couldn't help giggling thinking of last year) when Pero stopped dead. You continued for a couple steps before his grip tugged you to a halt. Then, finally, you looked back at him and over to where he was looking.

A man stood near the fence, blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, bow slung over his shoulder and quiver on his back. He wore dark clothes and armor.

Very similar to Pero, when you had found him.

Oh shit.

The stranger spoke first, sounding astonished. “Pero?”

“William!” Pero let go of you to go grab the man in a hug. He responded readily, though his eyes were still wide. “How did you come to be here?”

“I… don’t know,” the blonde, William, said slowly. “I was traveling and when I woke up…” He shrugged and made an expansive motion to the world around him.

Pero nodded. “Much the same happened to me,” he murmured, clapping William on the shoulder. Then he smirked. “But I found someone who helped me.”

“Helped you? For free?” William’s lips quirked at the easy tease, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

Pero beckoned you over, still looking pleased. “Si. This is my hermosa. This is William.” He looked at you, holding out one hand to you. “I have known William many years. Is still amazing I have not killed him yet.”

That startled a laugh out of you, and you took Pero’s hand and let him reel you in close. “Hi,” you greeted, feeling a little shy.

“So you put up with this ugly bastard, huh?” William asked with a smile, elbowing Pero. Pero grumbled something and draped his arm over your shoulders.

You chuckled. “More or less,” you agreed, smiling at Pero to be sure he knew that you were teasing. He scowled at you. But it was his playful scowl, pretending to be upset. “I imagine you’re pretty confused.”

“That is perhaps putting it mildly,” William said. “But yes.”

“Unfortunately I don’t have all the answers for you. But I have enough.” You hesitated for a moment, looking around for a decent out of the way spot to have this conversation. “Let’s go this way.” You set off first, and Pero fell in easily behind you. You didn’t have to look to know that William was following, too.

Near the arena, there was a big grassy open area. A couple guilds had their tents set up back there, but it mostly was an out of the way, quiet area. You didn’t want to be too close to the arena, just in case. Or to the guild tents.

So you picked a tree on the far side of the little field and sat under it. The shade felt nice, since it was warming up a bit more than you’d expected today. Pero, of course, plunked himself down next to you with no concept of personal space (not that you really cared - after a year, you were used to it). William sat in front of the two of you, absently adjusting his weaponry to make it easier.

Damn, you really hoped you’d get away without alerting security a second year in a row.

“Alright. Basically, what we know is that we don’t know how this happened.” You shrugged. “Pero showed up a year ago with no clue how he’d gotten here. We did some looking around, never found any reason why. He’s just here. He’s been here a year, so it seems to be permanent.”

William nodded slowly, looking between the two of you. “So there is no way back.”

“Not that we found.” You paused. “Although I admit I didn’t look very hard, not after the first few days.”

Silence fell over the three of you, and then William looked at Pero. “Tell me one thing.”

Pero nodded. “Anything, amigo.”

“Would you go back? If you could?”

Pero shook his head. “No. Not now. This time, this place, is strange. Confusing. But no. I do not want to leave.”

William nodded and smiled. “Well, my friend, seems you’ll have to teach me a few things.”

Pero snorted, smirking. But his shoulders eased a bit, some of the tension leaving his brows. And you smiled.

The two started talking, catching up on the last year. From what you overheard, the two had been separated when Pero arrived here - they had been due to meet up in another month for a job. Clearly, Pero had never shown up, and William had done the job. And then he’d taken to wandering and taking jobs as he could find them, debating settling down in every settlement he rode through.

There was some vague talk of going East again, but William hadn’t found anyone to go with, and he didn’t trust anyone not to betray him. Pero agreed that was smart, for once. (There was a brief pause as the two sniped insults at each other in a way that had you dying not to laugh.)

Apparently, William had been on his way north again, had made camp outside a forest, and woke up in the city. He had wandered into the faire by accident, apparently, following a couple actors in. And then he had gotten turned around and, well… The rest was history.

In turn, Pero gave him the abbreviated version of meeting you, going home with you, and never leaving. Fortunately, he left out the more… intimate details. But he was surprisingly verbose with his friend, and you could clearly see he’d missed William.

Honestly, you would have been fine to sit there longer and listen to the two of them swap stories and recall times (long, long) past.

But Jax jogged over to your trio, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey, man! Good to see you again. You gonna compete this year?”

Pero snorted, looking up at Jax. “Not this time.”

“Oh, c’mon! It’ll be fun! You can bring your new friend too, if you want.”

That got a derisive snort. “William is useless with a blade.”

“I am not–” William started, aggrieved and also clearly with the tone of someone who has had this argument a thousand times.

“He shoots.”

Jax looked William over and nodded. “Yeah, I see that. William, right? You any good?”

William grinned, and Pero groaned. “I am the best,” William said with the confidence of a man who knew what he was talking about.

“Wanna come show us?” Jax smirked.

In an instant, William was hopping to his feet. “Let’s go. Tovar, I might need your help.”

Pero swore. But he did get up, and held out a hand to you to help you to your feet. “I could just kill him,” he grumbled. “Then he would not need my help.”

“But I’m curious,” you said with a less-than-innocent grin. “It’ll be fine.”

Pero heaved a put-upon sigh but acquiesced, following Jax and William back to the arena. Apparently they were between competitions at the moment, with one big pole still set up in the middle of the ring. You wondered what that had been from, but you weren’t quite ready to ask.

“Good,” William muttered, taking his bow off his shoulder and grabbing three arrows. “I need something to throw.”

Jax picked up an empty metal cup and tossed it over to William. “Will this work?”

William weighed it for a moment before he nodded. “Perfect. Tovar, catch.” He threw it to Pero.

Pero sighed but caught the cup one-handed, gently guiding you to the side with his other. “Stay here,” he said, about as stern as he ever really got with you.

“Okay.” You put your bags down to show you weren’t gonna move, and Pero nodded his satisfaction before walking back to William.

Murmuring had started in the crowd that remained between sets, and some of the performers and competitors had started to come back in to watch as well.

Pero and William stood about ten yards back from the center pole, Pero facing the pole and William standing back-to-back with him. They spoke quietly, easily, with William holding three arrows and his bow. Pero sighed - you couldn’t hear it but you could see it. Then the two went very still.

It seemed that everyone held their breath in anticipation, waiting to see what the two would do.

You heard William say, clearly but not loudly, “Pull.” Pero tossed the cup, and even from your angle you could see it was not a straight throw towards the pole. He ducked to the side, arms crossed over his chest.

William turned around, took a bare moment to take in the situation, and fired. Pulled the second arrow. Fired. Pulled the third arrow. Fired.

The first arrow clanged into the cup, sending it spinning back towards the pole. The second arrow flew through the handle and into the pole. And the third arrow thunked into the pole just underneath the cup, and the cup came to rest on top of the arrow, held in place from falling over by the arrow through the handle.

There was stunned silence for a moment. And then the arena erupted into cheering and applause. William, looking only a little smug, took a bow. Pero yawned. You couldn’t help but clap along at the show of skill, impressed.

It didn’t surprise you when several people wanted to talk to William and ask him things like where he had learned to do that. You didn’t hear his response, but you could hear that he was pleased and relaxed.

“He has always been more comfortable with people,” Pero told you, coming to stand beside you again. “And he likes to show his skills.”

You chuckled. “He is impressive,” you agreed. “But he wouldn’t be able to do that without you.”

Pero allowed you a small smile, one arm snaking around your waist to pull you in close again. “He is still useless with a blade.”

You laughed and leaned into your swordsman, content.

And then the thought occurred to you.

This was all well and fun, sure, but… Where was William going to go? He didn’t have anywhere to stay, clearly. Didn’t know anyone here except Pero.

“What is it?” Pero asked softly, clearly having felt you tense.

“I just realized,” you murmured back. “William doesn’t have anywhere to go.”

“He is used to camping,” Pero dismissed. “He will be fine.”

“Maybe for a day or two,” you argued, shaking your head. “That’s not a long term plan. I mean, he can come stay with us for now, sleep on the couch. Until we figure something out for him.”

Pero looked at you, startled. “I cannot ask that of you,” he spoke slowly, testing his words.

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” You half-turned to look at him, to show him your sincerity.

“You are too kind, hermosa,” Pero murmured, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. “Is a wonder you have not been taken advantage of.”

A soft clearing of a throat saved you from answering that assumption, and you and Pero both looked at William. He still looked pleased with himself, but he had retrieved his arrows and had everything back in place.

“Want to look around some?” you offered with a smile.

“If that’s what you two are doing.”

You nodded. “I like to watch the falconry show,” you told William, leading the way away from the arena again. “It’s a fun show. I think you’ll like it - the birds are all trained but, well, they do have their own personalities.”

“Certainly.” William fell into step with you and Pero easily enough, looking around the faire with wonder. He was more open with his emotions, showing his surprise and not trying to mask it as grumpiness.

It was not hard to see how he was more of a people person than Pero was.

You picked a spot for the three of you on a hay bale in the middle of the seating area. You ended up with Pero on one side and William on the other.

“By the way,” you started, glancing at William before looking back at the as-yet empty stage, “Pero and I talked, and you’re welcome to come stay with us. At least until you figure out what you want to do here. I know this is a huge change, and you shouldn’t have to be on your own.”

“That is very kind of you,” William murmured. “Your generosity is commendable.”

The falconry crew took the stage, and you all fell quiet for the show. Honestly, you had a bit of a hard time focusing on it, despite your love of the show. There was a lot on your mind. Pero nudged you a couple times, and you waved him off. Now was not the time.

The three of you stayed put after the show ended, letting people filter away as you took a quick look through your bags, then around. You’d done all your shopping. Seen the show you really wanted to see. You should probably feed the two, actually.

“Alright, food time. You two can hold down the table, I’ll grab the food.” If William ate anywhere near as much as Pero, you might need to make two trips to carry it all.

“I can help carry,” Pero offered, keeping pace with you to the food area.

“Nah, you two can chat. You can tell him about all the things that you know and he doesn’t.” You grinned when Pero puffed up a bit at that. “Look, here’s a good table. You two stay here. I’ll be back soon with food.”

You left them there and took a moment to plan your attack. Okay. Two vendors. Order a little extra, as a treat. You’d worry about sweets later.

The turkey legs were pretty quick to acquire, and you handed those off before continuing to the second vendor you’d chosen. This one took a little longer, and you took the time to look around. It all seemed so normal. So many people going about their day, having fun. Completely unaware of the two time travelers in their midst.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you ordered, paid, and stepped aside. Fortunately, it didn’t take long to get the food, because your tummy was rumbling by the time you made it back to the table.

As expected, the turkey legs were gone. Devoured. The rest of the food didn’t last much longer, although both men did check to make sure you’d had your fill.

You were just cleaning off your fingers when someone coughed from the end of the table. You turned to look and blinked.

A very pretty young woman stood at the end of the table, hands clasped in front of herself, looking a bit nervous, but also determined. Her hair was straight and held back in a high ponytail, and she was wearing all blue.

Before you could say anything, William was on his feet, eyes wide. “Lin?”

“Ah, no,” the young lady said. “My name is Melinda. Mel. Uh, I saw you in the arena.” She paused there, fidgeting, looking uncertain. “This is going to sound really weird, but… you look like someone I’ve heard about.”

“Why don’t you sit?” you offered, nodding to the space next to William.

She took a deep breath and sat, sitting up very straight and still playing with the hem of her shirt. “God, this is going to sound so crazy.”

“Crazy is what we do,” you assured her with a smile, since William seemed to be temporarily incapable of speech, and Pero was just watching her with narrow-eyed suspicion. “Just tell us.”

Melinda nodded and swallowed. “So, my family is from China,” she said, words slowly gaining speed as she talked. “And there’s this old family story. Like, really old. A thousand years old. About this secret war? And apparently one of my ancestors fought in it. Became a general, if you believe the stories. Anyway, she wrote about two Westerners who helped in the war, and one of them was named William. And he used a bow. Apparently he pulled some big stunt in the, uh, mess hall, I guess? And, I don’t know, this sounds super weird saying it out loud, I’m so sorry.”

“Keep going.” William spoke softly, gaze fixed on Melinda.

Melinda blinked but nodded after a moment. “I mean, there’s not much more to it. It’s just… a really weird coincidence, right? It just seems like it, anyway.”

“Your ancestor,” William said slowly. “Was her name Lin?”

“Yeah,” Melinda confirmed. “How’d you know?”

William was silent for a few moments. “It’s a long story,” he said. “I’d be happy to tell you all of it.”

“Uh, sure.” Melinda seemed surprised.

William launched into the story, speaking quietly, ever aware of the faire around you. Melinda’s eyes grew wide with disbelief, then shock as she listened. And you?��

You looked at Pero, wondering why the hell he hadn’t mentioned any of this before.

By the end of it, the whole table lapsed into silence.

“Wow,” Melinda muttered finally. “That is… insane. Actually insane.”

“Tell me about it.” You shrugged.

“This isn’t possible.”

You smiled at her. “And yet, they’re here. It’s not a prank, not actual crazy people. They time traveled, somehow. I still have no idea how.”

“So you’re telling me that you’re the one in those old stories,” Melinda demanded, looking at William.

“I am.” William paused for a moment. “I was tempted to stay with her. Did she marry ever?”

“Yes. Had two children. She died old and surrounded by family.”

There was a tinge of grief to William’s smile. “Well, I am glad to hear it.”

Silence fell again. And then you shook it off.

“I know this is a lot,” you told Melinda sympathetically. “William will be staying with us. Why don’t I give you my number and we can arrange a time for you two to talk more? If you want.”

Melinda gave you a grateful smile. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.”

You both pulled out phones and exchanged numbers. And then discovered that she lived in the same building as you, two floors down.

And when she stood, William hopped to his feet as well.

“Let me walk you to wherever you’re going?” he offered, covering his nerves with a suave smile.

“Yeah, sure. Okay.” Melinda smiled, giving him a quick once over before she led him away.

You and Pero sat at the table for a few minutes longer, leaning into each other. Then Pero snorted.

“I doubt he’ll be with us long,” he murmured. “That girl looks exactly like General Lin. He will pursue her.”

You chuckled. “Well, he’s more charming than you are, so I’d say he’s got a chance,” you teased.

Teeth nipped your ear in reprimand, and you gasped. “You will be paid back for your teasing,” he murmured, low and husky in your ear. “Repeatedly.”

“Oh yeah?” You smiled slowly, turning your head enough to look at him. “Not until we get home.” You winked and kissed his cheek before you stood and walked away.

He’d follow you. And probably try to cage you in a quiet corner of the park. Not that you’d let him get away with anything.

Life would never be boring, not with your Spaniard.

Taglist: @theredwritingwitch @spideysimpossiblegirl @quica-quica-quica @queridopascal @fandom-blackhole @shoopidly @beskarprincessjenny @sarahjkl82-blog @cannedsoupsucks @liviiii98 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @princessxkenobi @thirddeadlysin @oonajaeadira @kiizhikehn-cedar @green-socks @withakindheartx @linkpk88 @janebby @anditsmywholeheart @amneris21 @recklessworry @the-feckless-wonder @javierpinme @grogusmum @eri16 @idreamofboobear @pintsizemama @pedrostories @stevie75 @luxmundee @reader-without-a-story @alexxavicry @elegantduckturtle @pjkimrn @jaime1110 @trash-dino-5000 @mandalwhorean @mswarriorbabe80 @bruxasolta @eri @chaoticgeminate @lowlights @hb8301 @luz-introvertida @magikfanatic @fabilei @tentacruels @churchill356 @grippleback-galaxy @the-fic-baker @tanzthompson @tintinn16 @phandoz @beecastle @practicalghost @borinquenasoy @snarwor @buckybarneshairpullingkink @scorpio-marionette @bowtiesandsandshoes

#born to be wild #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x reader #f!reader

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theaviskullguy · 4 years ago

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since yall need to see it

i have a coroika fantasy/dnd au (it has some dnd elements but its not directly a dnd au) so have this

Goggles: Chaotic neutral human rouge

Noble background

thief

he a stealy boi

but he’s got a heart of gold

back when he was a noble he saw that there was a lot of people that needed help that his family didn’t even think about helping

so goggles took to stealing from his family and other’s riches and giving them to the poor.

As a result he was disowned and cast out from his family and earned the name “Blue Bandit” due to his thieving habits and his blue hair

Rider: Neutral good human barbarian

Soldier background

Basically Rider was born into a magic-using family but was known as the family disappointment by his parents and extended family since he had none of his own (his siblings were chill about it)

So he thought that he could make them proud by joining the military and becoming a hero of his village

And he did but his parent’s still hated him simply because he had no magic

So, Rider left his village to find something else to do

Army: True Neutral half-elf warlock

Noble background

Patron: Actually one I came up with named Phyria. She’s a fiend patron but she give extra fire spells

anyways, Army comes from a line of kings, each worshipping Phyria, known as the Blaze Kings.

Army’s father was the first to act as a Tyrant. He wanted to rule the world and groomed Army to do the same.

Basically, Army was manipulated to believe that he was the only one who was “pure”. Everyone else were filthy wrongdoers.

When Army’s dad died, it wasn’t made public, and Army ruled as The Blaze King with people still believing his father was the ruler

He got news of a rebellion (basically the gang having decided to go and stop him) and decided to go down and masquerade as...well, himself kind of.

As he traveled with them he began to question all he was taught to believe.

So basically the gang lead him through an unintentional redemption arc.

Aloha: Chaotic good human bard

Entertainer background

of course aloha’s a bard

anyways, his parents died when he was 5 and he was taken in by his uncle, who ran a tavern.

As he grew up he learned how to make food, serve drinks, and became pretty well-liked in the town

But what Aloha really liked was the traveling bards that came and went at the tavern. He’d learn their songs by ear and sing along.

It came to the point where he was gifted a lute by one of them and his uncle sent him off to learn how to be a proper bard

And when Aloha came back ten years later his town had been burned down. Literally no one was left, and everything was just in ashes

Other than this one knife that had the tavern’s symbol on it.

So, Aloha took it with him in his travels.

He still has it and he still uses the lute given to him by the bard so long ago.

Mask: Chaotic neutral undead drow necromancer

hermit background

“Dude you made him an accidental lich” -My DM friend when I was explaining my idea to them

Basically Mask always had a close connection to the dead

He’d be mourning people he didn’t even know, he would talk to seemingly the void whenever at a grave, and he was always pretty close to death himself, being a pretty sickly person

So when he became an adult he hid himself in a cave, practicing his craft of necromancy

He brought back a sick cat he named Ash who decided to follow him around

Anyways as for the undead part

One day Mask got a nasty infection and he went to the market to get a cure

and he was scammed, getting a nasty poison instead

so Mask drank it and died, but somehow he came back as an undead himself

he decided “fuck it” and went off adventuring along with Ash

Skull: Lawful good Drow-Wood elf ranger

Urchin background

So basically Skull was born to two moms; a drow huntress and a wood elf archer.

He tends to look more like a drow though

anyways, he learned how to fight, hunt, gather, and shoot a bow and arrow thanks to his moms

he was also raised in a really pretty forest

his parents do be living the cottagecore dream...

anyways one day skull came back home after hunting (he had caught a raven all by himself and wanted to show his moms) when he found-suprise suprise-that his house had burnt down

his moms were alright and sent him to live in the city with his grandparents, while they go on a mission to find out who did this

problem is his grandparents hadn’t seen him before and don’t really like drow

so they kicked him-a 12 year old in elf years btw-on the streets

he taught himself to survive in the city-he didn’t know the way back to the forest-and after a few years of begging on the streets, and occasionally stealing, he finally had enough for a bow, quiver, and arrows. And he knew he could sustain himself by hunting for his own food and selling what he didn’t need

so he did just that

he commissioned a bow, arrows, and quiver and in the process met aviators- a wood elf who really loved crafting of any kind-who took on the job and made him a beautiful bow

as thanks, even though he payed, skull always made sure to give avi and his family extra food he collects.

and as time went on he and avi fell in love because aviskull supremacy

But later avi was relocated to a different city, so Skull and him made a promise to get married when they next saw each other

since then, skull joined the gang, took down a tyrant, and is now just searching for avi along the gang’s adventures

Prince: Lawful good High elf cleric

Acolyte background

basically-this is also emp’s backstory too-prince, emp, and prince’s twin regent are royals of a magic-based kingdom

but you see regent didn’t really like non magics, and thought they should be slaves under his rule

Prince and Emperor didn’t like that, so Emperor challenged Regent to a duel

you see, in the case of multiple heirs to the throne, the strongest one would ascend to become the ruler.

it would be prince, seeing as in addition to being a healer, his patron had given him a spellbook, filled with plenty of dark and powerful spells

but clerics and priests are forbidden to take on positions of political power.

so regent and emperor fought in battle and regent won, becoming king and his first act was exiling prince and emperor on the spot, not even letting them take the things in their rooms.

regent thought that, since prince had left his spellbook in his room, that he could now have access to the power his twin had, but prince was clever

when he had received the book, he placed a curse on it so only he may use it without repercussions. Anyone who even so much touched it would get a nasty curse only Prince or his patron can lift

anyways so now regent’s paranoid that prince would somehow return, take the spellbook, and kill regent

also prince has a familiar with him; his kitten, kia.

Emperor: Lawful neutral High Elf Sorceror

Noble background

basically same backstory as prince tbh not much to say

Gloves: Chaotic Good halfling Druid

Outlander background

Basically, in the village they lived in, pink eyes are considered bad luck. so when gloves opened their eyes to show pink, their parents left them to die in the woods

jokes on them

Gloves was found and literally raised by wolves until they were 10 in halfling years

Then they got found by two human hunters and was taken in

Gloves just. ran away from them. They hated being constrained and punished for even mentioning that they missed the pack

They never found the pack again, but after years in the woods, they learned how to transform into a wolf themselves.

Nothing too big after that, just the bab joins the group and now the gang has a wolf enby!!!

And i dont have anything for Vintage...suggestions are welcome!!!!

#splatoon #coroika #coroika au #coroika aloha #coroika army #coroika rider #coroika gloves #coroika prince #coroika emperor #coroika skull #coroika mask #coroika goggles #Galax Writes #dnd au

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oceanera12 · 4 years ago

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Linked Wilderness (Part 1)

More Linked Universe featuring Wild and his sister! ... Wait, what sister?

I was going to do Sky next but this idea popped into my head and I couldn’t type it fast enough. Whoops?

“Soooo...” Twilight tapped his foot impatiently, “Are we in your world or not, cub?”

Wild frowned, trying his Sheikah slate for the hundredth time. “I mean, that’s Twin Peaks and that certainly looks like my Hyrule Castle in the distance.” He slammed his hand against the tablet, “But this thing isn’t working and there should be a shrine right there,” he pointed at an empty clearing near their current stable. “Also, I don’t recognize anyone here.”

“And that’s odd because...?” Sky asked.

Wild blushed. “Well, I’m pretty sure I’ve talked to everyone in existence in my Hyrule. Usually the strangers are Yiga in disguise. But even the stable owner is different!”

“So...” Time stood up from sharpening his blade. He slung the sword on his back and then crossed his arms, “This Hyrule could be yours in the future. So... a new hero?”

Legend rolled his eyes, “Seriously? We haven’t had a new member in months!”

“But it is a possibility,” Four replied, his eyes flashing violet for a second. “Maybe we should talk to someone?”

Wild hesitated. “Stables have people that come and go. The owner might have sold the place to another person. Not to mention that many people are coming back to Hyrule because the Calamity is gone. Let’s head to Hateno. It’s only half a day from here. We can figure it out from there.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Wild was very confused. On one hand, this was very much his Hyrule. On the other, there were too many differences to ignore.

The ruins looked “newer”, there were less travelers (and those that were traveling were very suspicious of the nine-band group), it felt like there were more enemies, and there were guardians.

Full-working guardians that wanted nothing more than to kill Wild again.

He really hated guardians.

Therefore the alleged “half-day” turned into a full day, with the battered and beaten group grumbling up to Hateno. No serious injuries (Four had most likely broken his ankle) but a night of rest sounded much too nice after the insanity of the day.

A blonde woman stood guard at the foot of town. Wild frowned at the sight of her. He did not recognize her. She wore a light pink tunic, tied with a turquoise sash. There was some old knight armor on her right arm and a light chainmail skirt that went to her knees. Under the mail, she wore simple trousers and boots. A sword was strapped to her side, along with a quiver and bow on her back.

The blonde watched the group approach, clearly on guard. “Halt and state your business!” She called out when they reached a respectful distance.

Wild stepped forward, “We’re looking for a place to rest.” He was not sure if he should bring up the fact that he owned a house in the village. He was not even sure if the house would be his, at this point.

The girl’s eyes widened at Wild. Her mouth dropped open and the color drained from her skin. Her drawn sword dropped every so slightly. She did not speak for a moment, only gaping is shock.

Wild shifted uncomfortably. “Uh... are you alright, miss?”

Her expression turned hard, her next words a hiss. “How dare you.”

Wild flinched, despite himself. Something inside his gut twisted into tight knots. He didn’t like the girl upset. He wanted her to smile. His words were stuck in his throat and when he opened his mouth, nothing came out.

The girl brandished her sword at the group, her intentions very clear. “Leave now and I’ll grant you your lives you filthy traitors!”

Time put out his hands in surrender. “We’re not here to fight, nor do we wish you harm. But we have injured and need--”

“We don’t help Yiga here,” the girl hissed, her sword raising again. “Go back to your filth.”

Wild’s brain was too confused to make sense of what was happening.

Twilight stepped forward, “We’re no Yiga.” His gaze was suspicious. “Although, I’m beginning to suspect you are.”

The girl physically recoiled at the accusation. “I’m not the one with a fake hero!”

Legend and Twilight both growled in anger at that comment, the latter stepping in front of Wild in a protective matter. Several of the other Links came to the immediate defense of Wild, and at least one of them drew a sword.

“Link has given more--”

“--you little--”

“--dare you insinuate something so--”

“Wild is a good man!”

The girl was practically radiating anger now, her sword replaced with a bow at the blink of the eye. She roared, “MY BROTHER IS DEAD!” then loosed a warning shot that missed Hyrule by an inch. “NOW LEAVE BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND!”

Wild’s scrambling mind came to a screeching halt at that.

Brother?

The rest of the group had a similar reaction, with most of them stepping back a few paces. Wind looked like he had been slapped, “You never said you had a sister!”

Wild’s head was starting to hurt. He squeezed his eyes shut and heard his current sword slam into the ground. “I... I don’t...” His hands came up and grasped his hair, “I don’t... I don’t... I don’t.” The headache suddenly spiked into a piercing flare. He dropped to his knees and actually screamed at the white, hot, dagger that was attempting to cut through the memory fog.

Someone was talking but all Wild could see was white and pain. This wasn’t right. Nothing was right. What in Hylia’s name was happening to him?

The last thing he remembered before succumbing to the white was a very soft voice.

“Big brother?”

--------------------------------------------------------

It took much too long to get Wild inside his house.

Wind was helping the injured Four hobble across the wooden bridge to the very familiar house in Hateno... only this one did not have a sign that labeled the owner. In fact, this one had a horse in the stables.

Said horse cried out at the sight of the unconscious Wild. She trotted forward and blocked the path, licking and nuzzling his face in concern.

The sister hadn’t said a word since the gates, but she did so now. “Epona, dear, we need to get him inside.”

Wind suspected he wasn’t the only one who’s eyebrows shot up at that name, but no one said anything about it.

Epona nuzzled Wild one more time before trotting back her food.

“Good girl,” the sister smiled. She opened the front door. “Lay him near the fireplace. I’ll start up a fire.”

--------------------------------------------------------

It took time to explain the group to Wild’s sister. She hadn’t interrupted once during the tale, nor had she stopped dabbing Wild’s forehead with a wet cloth. Time took point on the story, with people chiming in when they thought it important. Twilight explained what he knew about Wild’s adventure, including the amnesia thing.

The sister had taken it all in, in silence. When the tale finally ended, she remained silent for a long time. Gentle hands traced the scars on Wild’s face, tears filling her eyes. “So... my brother is somewhere in a cave right now on the Great Plateau... asleep?”

Time hesitated for a moment, cursing whoever made the portals and Hylia who had dropped them in Wild’s world. They had just gone back about a hundred years. It explained the increased Guardian activity, the lack of Shekiah technology, and, of course, the long forgotten sister. “I would assume so, miss. Yes.”

She closed her eyes and breathed out slowly. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks and a few broken sobs broke free.

Wind stood up and pulled the girl into a hug. She buried her face in his tunic and cried. The rest of the group quietly tended to Four’s leg and let her mourn.

The sobs slowed and she gently pulled back from Wind, a soft smile on her face. “Thank you... um...”

“Wind,” the boy smiled back. “I have a little sister too.”

“Oh!” the girl leaped to her feet. “Where are my manners, you all must be hungry! And I haven’t even introduced myself or asked for your names or--” she cut herself off, blushing furiously. “I’m Rhea**.”

The Links introduced themselves while Rhea started on dinner. Good cooking skills appeared to run in the family because Rhea’s stew smelled heavenly. Legend commented on this and Rhea smiled. “Mother taught Link, who then taught me.” Her smiled died a little. “I’m glad to hear he remembers some things...”

“What was Wild like? As a child?” Warriors leaned forward, eager.

Rhea thought for a moment. “Well... he’s always been a bit wild.” She laughed, “Did you know he was appointed as the princess’s knight because he deflected a laser from a runaway guardian with a pot lid?”

Twilight coughed up his stew. “He what???”

“It’s true!” Rhea laughed. “Link has always had an affinity for turning cooking tools into weapons.”

“Oh Hylia,” Legend groaned into his hands. “Please tell me the ladle thing hasn’t always been around?”

“It’s one of my first memories,” Rhea giggled. “Big brother Link keeping a stray moblin at bay with nothing but a wooden ladle... at least until father came in with his actual sword.”

Several Links groaned in annoyance.

Perhaps it was the familiar sound that stirred Wild. He moaned loudly, causing a hush to fall over the group. Rhea grabbed a bowl of the stew and hurried to his side.

Wild opened his eyes, blinking into the fire. He jolted back from it out of pure instinct.

Rhea did not say anything, but put a hand on his shoulder. When Wild looked at her, she smiled and then gave him the bowl of stew. He looked at it suspiciously, before taking a small sip. His eyes widened and he quickly downed the rest of it.

Rhea appeared pleased. ‘I take that you like it?’

Wild started at the sign. It took a moment for the motions to process before nodding. ‘Yes.Thank you, ma’am.’

Rhea’s smile fell.

No one knew what to say. Wild looked around “his” house, clearly confused. The table was shoved in the corner, two beds were shoved against the wall, and there was no weapon displays on the walls.

“Where are we?” he asked no one in particular.

Twilight felt a stab of sympathy for Rhea. He knew all to well the pains of a sibling not recognizing you. “Cub... there’s no easy way to say this.” He pointed at the girl. “This is Rhea. Do you recognize her?”

Wild tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, clearly concentrating. “You were the guard at the gate.”

Rhea nodded, the expression stiff.

“Good,” Twilight encouraged. “Anything else about her seem... familiar?”

Wild squinted even harder. He rubbed his temples. After a long silence he finally sighed. “No.” He looked guilty. “Should I?”

Wind jumped up, clearly angry. “She’s your little sister, Wild! How could you ever forget her?”

“Wind!” Time reprimanded.

Wild blinked, looking back at Rhea. She waved, timidly before slipping into sign. ‘They told me what happened to you. I am sorry.’

“Are... are you really my sister?”

‘Yes,’ Rhea sighed heavily. ‘Although, it has been several years since your... disappearance. I have grown since then.’ She smiled. ‘I was only this tall when you last saw me.’ She held up her hand about a foot lower then her current height. ‘I was only eight. Now I am seventeen.’

Wild scrunched up his face again. He thought and thought and thought, before sighing. “I don’t remember... I’m sorry. Truely, I am.”

‘It’s fine,’ Rhea’s smile looked forced, but she did not appear angry. ‘I’ll go get more firewood. You rest.’ Then she turned and left the house.

Wild buried his face in his hands and moaned.

Twilight quickly sat down next to him. “It is okay, Wild. It is not your fault. She does not blame you for what happened.” He glared in the direction of Wind, “You have no control over your memories.”

Wind was receiving a very harsh and very quiet reprimand from both Warriors and Time. He looked sorry and had his head down in shame. The kid really needed to learn to think before he spoke.

Twilight turned his attention back to his prodege. “Think about it this way: now you can learn things about your past that you didn’t even know. Maybe the memories will come back, maybe they won’t. But do not give up hope. Alright?”

Wild looked down at his hands. He slowly looked up to reveal the tiniest of smiles. “Alright... Her name was Rhea, right?”

“Right,” Twilight smiled. “And you taught her to be an excellent cook.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------

**-Okay, so I didn’t want to go with Linkle as the name (because who names their kids Link and Linkle. Seriously?) and I thought Aryll was the generic fall back for Wild’s sister’s name (just because Link’s spirit is reborn and always named Link does not mean his sister suffers the same fate). I did look into a few fanfictions to see what they went (and didn’t like any that I found), so I looked up names that meant something to do with nature. Rhea was the Greek goddess of “the mountain wilds” and I thought it suited her well enough.

On a semi-random note: did you all know that “Zelda” is a an old German name that means “dark battle”??? At least, according to the website I was on.

Also, stayed tuned for part 2!

Also part 3...

#linked universe #fanfic #wild #lu wild #linked universe wild #wild link #link wild #wild's sister #link's sister #botw #time travel is confusing #especially if you are dead #part 2 will be soon

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justjessame · 3 years ago

Text

Silence: There Is No “I” In Team

I stared over the side of the building into the darkening sky and took a deep breath. How I’d gotten HERE from where I’d been only weeks earlier was something I’d like to have time to unpack, but I was trying to distract myself from the fluttering nerves that were threatening to overtake my stomach.

“You gonna be ok?” Gruff, but not unkind, Daryl’s quiet question barely rose above the sound of the breeze.

Nodding, I shifted my bow and quiver, taking another deep breath. “Sure,” my tone matched his, something that Negan teased me about often - how quiet I was compared to everyone other than Daryl. “Piece of cake, all I have to do is dangle by a rope over a bunch of dead people and pick them off if they start trying to munch on the other dangling people -” blowing out some of my excess air, I sent up a silent prayer that I wouldn’t toss what little I’d eaten recently. Food was scarce, hence our trip to Fort Connors.

Daryl’s huff of breath could be taken as a laugh or a sound of commiseration. “Gonna try to get you over one of the copters, keep you outta reach so you can be close, but not too close.” Good plan, and hopefully keeping me closer to the ground would keep my stomach in check. “You’re a good shot, and you’re quiet -” he shot a look around us - Carol was helping Lydia, Rosita, and Maggie into their harness while the other two - Kelly and Magna worked together to go over their plan of attack. “You’re gonna be on your own, picking off anything that moves or makes a grab -”

The men would wait at the top, to pull the MREs that everyone was hoping beyond hope were left inside to safety along with all of us. Alden, Jerry, Daryl - All ready and waiting for the load to be ready to rise up - once they helped us go down, but I had to go first.

“Come on, Elara, you’re up,” Jerry was grinning like always and I had to hold back a sigh. It wasn’t his fault that he was gregarious by nature and that he didn’t quite understand that I wasn’t Miss Adventurous. I had my harness in place, but took heart when he took the time to check it to be sure it was safe - and then I was dangling, using my glove covered hands to shimmy slowly down the rope that was being aided by Jerry’s strength and going far slower than the others probably wanted me to go.

The floor below me was littered with bodies - dust coated them, but I could see no obvious wounds from my perch, not even when my boots met the roof of the helicopter, stirring up a swirl of motes. My bow was in my hands, arrow notched before the others were locked into their own ropes. Eyes scanning the bodies for the first signs of life after death, ears listening for the first sounds of it - I watched and waited - my part in this scavenger hunt. While I stood watch, waiting for the inevitable - for where there were bodies there would be dead rising - Magna and Kelly rushed off to find what they could while Carol, Lydia, Rosita, and Maggie worked the floor below me.

The first full bags came, hooked onto the same ropes that had acted as carriers for us, they rose while I continued to look for signs of trouble. I heard it - the telltale sound of a snapping cord - but I didn’t look up. Not when I knew the landing would mean my attention would be more needed below. The jarring fall of a full bag of MREs didn’t come - something far subtler, yet also far more maddening did - a drop of blood hitting one dank corpse and waking it from a slumber that it should never had awoken from, only to wake up all of its many sleeping friends - and giving me, Carol, Lydia, Maggie, and Rosita something to occupy us while Kelly and Magna finished up their own chore in the other room.

While the four on the floor mainly dealt blows in a hand-to-head fashion, I worked from my perch. Picking the dead off from above, I wasn’t too shocked when Maggie and Carol started trying to find a functioning and loaded weapon amongst the soldiers’ belongings - nor was I too surprised when they found some. Just as I was the first to be lowered into the lion’s den, I knew I’d be the last to leave. Daryl covered Carol - she’d seen another crate, one that I’d noticed in my scanning of the floor, but it wasn’t really my duty to point it out, of MREs - and I was impressed when she recovered his knives before being pulled to safety.

I’d be a liar if I said there wasn’t still fear that I’d be left behind. Negan was still a less than favorable member of Alexandria and it was no secret who I was to him. Yet, Jerry lowered the rope down as I fired one last arrow, and I rose up to the roof where everyone waited - Daryl shaking his head at Carol handing him his knives and smiling at me as I shook off the feeling of being too high in the air once again.

It was daylight by the time we got back to Alexandria. I was tired and drained. My shoulders ached and my head felt like it would crack down the middle. I’d emptied my quiver - I hadn’t noticed when I was firing at the lurkers - muscle memory is a crazy thing. My fingers were tingling and burning from overuse.

All I wanted was to go back and crawl into bed, preferably with Negan wrapped around me - not naked since I was exhausted.

Instead, we arrived and I got to witness another awkward moment between him and Maggie. My headache grew worse and I felt both queasy and faint. It took a few beats, but Negan’s gaze landed on me and his eyes narrowed.

“Elara,” handing the sack of MREs off to someone else, he moved closer, staring down at me. “Sweetheart,” I blinked up at him, thinking that he looked blurry. “When was the last time you -”

I don’t actually know what he asked because he went fuzzy and then everything went dark.

I woke up in bed, with his warmth close to me. Wish one granted. My achy body was still hurting, but not as badly as it could have been. “Tell me I didn’t faint,” it came out as quiet as a whisper.

He chuckled, his arms holding me tighter. “You didn’t, you fell asleep.” Sighing, I nuzzled closer to him. “I -” he sounded off, and I pulled back to look up at him. It was light out and I felt confused. What day was it? Negan’s hands cupped my face and he smoothed under my eyes with his thumbs. “You still look so damn tired.”

“That’s not what you were going to say,” he leaned closer to kiss me and I let him, mostly because I wanted the intimacy of it and also because he looked different and it scared me.

When he pulled back, slowly and not too far away - his eyes locked onto mine. “Maggie’s convinced the council that the place she was before has food, water - you know, all the great shit that we’re lacking here.” Squinting, I waited. “She wants to take a group to check it out, to see if it’s all still there because -”

“We just did a run for those MREs,” I didn’t understand, we had BAGS full of them. “How bad is it?”

“We added more people, two more communities,” my eyes blinked shut. His forehead met mine and I sighed. “One week, maybe? Not sure this journey is worth it, but -”

“She wants you to go?” My eyes flashed open, fear growing in my stomach far more venomous and clinging than on the roof of the base. “She wants you DEAD.”

I heard him swallow. “I know,” he licked his lips. “I won’t die on her terms, Elara. I won’t.” My mouth opened to argue with him, but his mouth met mine and he rolled me onto my back. “Don’t send me off on a bad note?” He breathed against my lips and I nodded, ripping at his shirt.

#The Walking Dead #negan x ofc #spoilers season 11 #alternate universe #Mild smut

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shinidamachu · 5 years ago

Text

No Place I Would Rather Be

Summary: We're a thousand miles from comfort. We have traveled land and sea. But as long as you are with me, there's no place I'd rather be. Word Count: 3.617 Genre: fluff Fandom: InuYasha Pairing: Inukag Format: oneshot AO3 Link: 🌹 Fanfic.Net Link: 🌹

Boredom was eating him alive.

Days had passed without a single lead about the jewel fragments. So much that their little group had disbanded for the time being. Sango went back to what was left of her old village. It had been a while since she last paid homage to their dead. Kirara, of course, was her loyal company — and also ride. Miroku was visiting Mushin’s Temple, as if the place hadn't been profaned enough, already. Shippo was still around, but keeping his distance due to InuYasha’s stormy mood.

The frustration of it all got him desperately wishing for some kind — any kind — of action. Something that didn’t involve sulking under a tree and watching time crawl. Every second of this idleness meant another second Naraku was out there, still breathing. Collecting the shards was a small mean to achieve a bigger, imperative ending. It gave him purpose, a sense of getting closer to his ultimate goal step by step. Waiting got them nowhere. It only granted him to be alone with his thoughts and the combination was nothing but disastrous.

Lucky for him, his private source of distraction was not too far away.

Kagome was humming a foreign tune, the same one she liked to sing whenever she was happy. Following the melody was almost mandatory. InuYasha didn’t realize what he was doing until he arrived to the other side of it, where the girl thumbed through her hair in a futile attempt to tame her hair, the lake’s surface a natural mirror at her convenience. InuYasha made his presence known before his own reflection joined hers.

“It’s no use, ya know.”

“Jerk!”

The girl glared at him and retaliated by splashing water on his direction — of which he easily dodged. InuYasha had to admit her reaction was justified, given his past tendency to be utterly unkind to her. This time, however, although his tone wasn’t devoided of casual teasing, he was being completely honest. When you spend sunrise to sunset with someone for so long, it was inevitable learning a thing or two about them. Kagome had a wild hair. Not in a bad way, but it sure had its own will. Especially in the humidity, which was definitely the case of that afternoon. To an outside viewer, the strands could pass as straight. Noticing the shy waves at the end and how they used to stand out after getting wet was a privilege for the few allowed to look closer — a privilege InuYasha cherished. She always had her hair down and he liked that she did. It was destined to be free, to go with the wind. And it had grown a hell of a lot since they first met. The half demon wondered if Kagome was aware of how much. He certainly was.

Then she got up, revealing clothes that were undoubtedly new to his eyes. It was one piece, all lime flowers and malleable fabric against her cream skin. A bit longer than what she usually cared to wear, but leaving her arms and shoulders at plain sight in compensation. The view was thrilling, until his eyes caught the yellow backpack laying by her feet, causing his grin to falter. He understood the implication behind it, even if the question had yet to pass his lips.

“What’s with the weird kimono?”

“Oh, this.” Kagome lowered her gaze, inspecting for herself. Her combative attitude swiftly turning into a cautious posture. “It’s a sundress. I’ve been meaning to ask… can you please give me a ride to the well? I’m going home.”

There it was.

Somehow, getting his suspicions confirmed did nothing to prevent the scowl from forming on his face.

“Thought the school thing were over for the summer.”

“Well, yes...”

“Then why the fuck ya going home for? We still have plenty of supplies!”

“Because I promised I’d go to the movies with Hojo and now that we’re on vacation I don’t have excuses not to go, anymore. My grandpa literally ran out of diseases I could have. And what’s the point, anyway? Jewel hunting is going through a dry spell, everyone left… and I haven’t seen my family in weeks.”

Half of what she said didn’t make any sense to him and InuYasha positively hated the half that did.

“What if something comes up? I can’t see the damn shards like you do.” He argued.

“You jump through the well and get me.” She shrugged, as if the idea was highly unlikely. InuYasha opened his mouth to list the many, many reasons her solution was flawed. She bit him to the punch. “Listen, it’s not a big deal. I’ll be back tomorrow. I bet Miroku and Sango won’t even be here yet.”

It wasn’t fair.

In general, storming off to her era was Kagome’s way of punishing him for being a massive asshole. He got that. To tell the truth, more often than not he deserved it. But InuYasha was in his best behavior — despite feeling rightfully entitled to throw a tantrum, given the circumstances — precisely because he needed her close. He needed her to stay. Picturing Kagome hanging out with someone else instead was the worst kind of self torture. Would she change her mind if he swallowed his pride long enough to say so? Would he ever get the guts to let it out? She hadn’t invited him to come along. Was this Hojo guy really that important to her? More than InuYasha was? Trying to talk her out of it was a dangerous move. He’d put his foot in his mouth, she’d put his face on the ground. That’s what they did.

Either his expression betrayed the turmoil inside or Kagome became too good at figuring him out. Whatever it was, her smile shined, reassuring and warm.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be so quick, you won’t have time to miss me.”

“Who says I’d miss ya?” He dismissed, his indifference unconvincing even to himself.

InuYasha perceived another presence approaching. Shippo. His arrival couldn’t be more providential. Kagome had a soft spot for the brat. If anyone could get her to stay, it was him.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just the runt.”

Like he had been announced, the kid emerged from the trees in a hurry, Kagome’s bow and quiver looking gigantic on his tiny hands.

“Kagome! InuYasha!”

“Shippo-chan! What’s going on?” She asked, as soon as the boy reached them.

“There are rumors of a jewel fragment, two villages to the west.” He explained, with the pomposity the information called for. “Kaede sent me.” His chin was up high, like the statement added a final hint of importance to the message. “Here,” continued the kit, offering Kagome her weapon in a formal manner.

She hesitated.

“Kagome, let’s go!” InuYasha was prepared to move at the sound of the word ‘jewel’, their earlier argument happily buried and forgotten.

“Wait! Don’t you think it’s strange? For days we had no leads, and now, just when we splitted up…”

“Yeah, well, so what if it’s a trap? It wouldn’t be the first.”

Coward that he was, Naraku resorted to the nastiests schemes in order to get what he wanted. His disgusting fingers laid on every happenstance that had ever caused them harm. What choice did InuYasha have, though? Ruse or not ruse, he had to check it. Regardless of anyone else’s help, it was his duty to get vengeance on the bastard — for Kikyo, for himself — and Kagome knew that.

She sighed and took the bow and arrows from the fox’s hold.

“Thank you so much, Shippo-chan! Now can you do me another favor?”

“Anything!”

“Go back to Kaede. Tell her InuYasha and I are on our way.”

“I’m not coming with you?” He whined, as confused as InuYasha. They never traveled without the child.

“That’s right. We don’t know how dangerous this may be. I need you to stay and if we don’t come back tomorrow by noon, get Miroku and Sango and send them to us. Can you do that for me?”

Shippo resolutely nodded .

“I won’t let you down, Kagome.”

“I know you won’t.”

And through the same path he had appeared he went. Kagome fixed a pleading glance at InuYasha.

“Can I at least change clothes before we g—”

“No time to waste.” He said, grabbing Kagome and her bag to leap towards west.

Kagome was whistling that same song again.

It took him an enormous amount of self restraint not to whistle along.

He was happy. So wonderfully happy. It was astonishing, the effect that tiny, bossy human girl had over his humor. The fact they were following the possible whereabouts of a lost jewel piece also played a role on his attitude swing, there was no denying that. But even if this turns out to be nothing at all, it would be a small price to pay in exchange of spending more time with her.

“Weren’t you mad about not coming home just now?”

His curiosity was genuine. Kagome had been angry since they left and InuYasha would be the person to know. She had two kind of anger. The one he could hear and the one he could feel. Even though she had been unusually silent, her frustration was palpable at first. Mercifully, it seemed to fade away the more ground they covered. Her one complaint was the soreness that too many hours on the same position inflicted upon the muscles, which was why they were both walking. As a rule, he was strictly opposite to anything that might slow them down, and the human pace was unbearable once you had a taste of demonic speed. Running free, with trees and people alike turning into a blur on each side of him, was an unparalleled sensation, amplified tenfold whenever Kagome was riding his back. He didn’t regret giving in, though. They weren’t far from their destination, after all. In addition, her comfort came to be a priority, despite him still being unaware as to when or how.

“Well… yeah, but… what can I do, right? Besides, I haven’t realized how much I missed this.”

Clueless, InuYasha searched their surroundings, unsuccessfully intending to spot what she could possibly be referring to.

“Whatcha talkin’ about?”

“This!” She spinned around, open arms and face to the sky, chasing daylight like a sunflower, the movement bringing her garment to life. “You. Me. An adventure. Don’t get me wrong, I love Shippo and the others, I’m glad they joined us. It just feels like we haven’t had as much quality time together as we used to, after they did.”

“Y-you miss that?”

She shook her head up and down with enthusiasm and a content smile fought its way across his lips.

“I know we could hang out in Kaede’s village, but it’s not the same as going out. O-on a trip, I mean.”

Although InuYasha couldn’t make out why her cheeks were suddenly burning red, he did see the logic her reasoning, and the feeling was mutual. There was a certain level of closeness only the road could provide. No curious eyes. No sly comments. No need to explain themselves. InuYasha had missed that as well.

He often played with the thought of stealing her away, of placate his selfish thirst for her undivided attention. Not once had he imagined Kagome would be as eager to go as he was to take her. Regardless, the timing wasn’t right. It never was. From the moment they met, they were tossed into a mission and there was hardly space for anything else. So he settled for whatever he could get until it was over.

“Why would you miss those trips? It ain’t like I was nice to ya back then.”

It didn’t make sense to him that she would. His memories were of a spoiled little girl, complaining about the bugs and her aching legs and the fact she hadn’t bathed in days. There was no escaping InuYasha’s share of responsibility on the issue. He could have made her life easier, had he bothered to. But at the beginning he saw Kagome as a potential threat he would eventually get rid off. How could he have guessed, after the many betrayals he had endured through the years, that his heart would be safe on her hands?

Kagome limited herself to a shrug.

“You are now.” She stated, as if it made up for his unexcusable former behavior. Her unconditional forgiveness amazed him, no matter how regularly she had shown it to him. “Also, it feels like old times.”

“It doesn’t unless you get kidnapped, somehow.”

“It happened once or twice!”

“Keh! Stop kidding yourself.”

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

“No, shut up. I’m sensing a shard and it’s moving away.”

Wordlessly, InuYasha returned the backpack to her and offered her his back.

They raced at full gallop, Kagome guiding their course. The forest transitioned into arid highland, where dirt, thorns and rocky surfaces took place.

“Hey, you!” Kagome yelled at the youkai emerging in their camp of vision. Their target. Over his shoulder, the startled creature sneaked a peek at them and increased speed. Growling, InuYasha matched his rhythm. “Wait up! We won’t hurt you.”

“I’m pretty sure Imma hurt him.”

“Give the jewel fragment to us peacefully and you’ll be free to go!” She went on, his snide remarks as ignored by her as her plead was by the demon. InuYasha’s patience was wearing thin. Now that the rumors turned out to be true, his focus was entirely aimed at the task at hand.

“Are those fancy arrows of yours just for show?”

Kagome let out a deep breath. Shooting was her last ressource. She preferred to sort things out with words first. It rarely worked. Still she always tried.

“I suppose we have no choice.”

The arrow hit the creature in the calf and his groan of pain reverberated through the field. Not lethal, but enough of a nuisance to make him drop the run. InuYasha closed the distance between them within seconds. Kagome climbed off him and together they inspected their opponent.

On the floor, a possum demon hissed and exhibited his fangs at them, his ugly face twisting in agony while he pulled the arrow out. A cascate of blood immediately flowed from the wound. InuYasha was not fooled by it. Being a full youkai, he would be healed soon.

“Where is it?” InuYasha asked Kagome, not daring to leave the bastard out of his sight.

“His belly.”

“Step away, you filthy half breed!”

“Excuse me?” Kagome defied, any trace of courtesy forgotten.

“That was quite the damage she did on ya, there.” InuYasha released Tessaiga from its sheath as he approached the fallen man. “Think I can top it, though.”

“Step away, I said!”

His fear was palpable. InuYasha could feel it. See it. Smell it.

Smell it.

Faster than realization, the odor filled his lungs. It burned his nostrils, his throat. He could taste the toxic substance on his tongue. It was unbearable. And gasping for air only resulted in the pungent scent flooding him further, overwhelming his senses. A defense mechanism, he thought, his vision blurring, his knees giving in. I’m going to faint. No. No, no, no, no, no. Kagome. He had to protect Kagome.

There was a cry of his name.

And then an awful lot of darkness.

InuYasha came to abruptly, uncertain and alarmed by the new reality.

In one minute, the sun was up and he was succumbing, his consciousness leaving him to drift. In the next, he was awake and crickets sang the night’s arrival.

It was tempting to think he had dreamt the whole thing. A stupid, ridiculous, crazy ass dream. However, the lingering smell left no room for argument. It happened. The scent was weaker. Fading. But was there, overpowered by a significantly nicer aroma. A familiar one, sweet on the nose and soothing to the soul. Kagome’s.

He was lying half naked in her sleeping bag.

Sitting up, InuYasha seeked for the priestess, desperate to make sure for himself she was safe and sound.

The fragile light of her modern lantern illuminated the cavern that sheltered them. At its entrance, a girl rested — her silhouette contoured by a starry sky.

“Kagome.”

“You’re awake!”

She rushed to him, tripping over her own eagerness. Her beautiful clothes were dirty and a bit ripped at the hem. A small scratch cut her cheek, remnants of dry blood tainting her skin.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“I’m fine!” Kagome kneeled in front of him, a gesture he appreciated. There was no peace for him without an up close inspection of her well being. “I purified the demon after you blacked out. Turns out it was a trap. Thousands of Naraku’s second-class demons came for the shard when I took him down. I tried to purify those too, but more of them kept coming and I ran out of arrows, so I casted a barrier and—”

“You casted a barrier?”

InuYasha was beyond impressed. Barriers required great power and discipline. Even from Kaede or the monk. Kagome had apparently done it all by herself. Effortlessly. On the spot.

“To be honest, I don’t know how I did it. I just… I saw you lying there and I… anyway, the barrier purified the ones who touched it. Eventually they all died or left. How are you feeling?”

InuYasha didn’t answer the question.

“I’m sorry, Kagome, that you couldn’t rely on me.”

Guilt pulsed within him like a heartbeat. Constant and compulsory, expanding the outcomes of its work through every inch of his body.

“It’s not your fault. Your nose is too keen, of course you’d be affected the most.”

“But you got hurt!”

“In the thorns. I was careless. Don’t worry about it, it’s not even going to leave a scar.”

“It shouldn’t have even happened. I’m supposed be the one protecting you, not the other way around.”

It could have been worse. InuYasha should be grateful for that. He wasn’t. It could have been worse. And he wouldn’t be able to help her, to save her from this insignificant peril while she had already saved him in every conceivable way there was for a person to be saved.

“I’m not as helpless as I used to be, you know? I’ve grown a lot.” She had a point. InuYasha himself had told her that much, once. Kagome had faced scarier dangers than that. And she could absolutely take them. But he didn’t want her to have to. “Not to mention, it was totally worth it.”

As a proof, she exhibited a jewel fragment, glowing in the healthiest shade of pink.

“You got it!” InuYasha captured the shard, glancing at every angle of it in awe.

“Don’t act so surprised.”

Kagome went for her backpack and came back, falling on her knees again. Her hand dove in and emerged holding the glass container in which they kept the other pieces. She opened it and tilted the receiver to InuYasha, hinting for him to do the honors.

It was as if she had been waiting for him so they could do it together.

As if it was their private, sacred ritual.

He did as she wanted, mirroring her satisfied smile.

“Where’s my haori?”

“Oh! I… I put it away.” Blushing, Kagome tore her gaze from his and InuYasha followed it to a corner of the cave, where a huddle of scarlet fabric laid forgotten. “I figured you’d heal faster with that smell gone and your haori is soaked on it. Sorry.”

“D-don’t apologize, stupid. It was the right call.” To feel useful — and to occupy his brain with something other than the image of Kagome undressing him — InuYasha searched her backpack for the first aid kit, a tool from her era he was sadly too intimate with. “Now let’s take care of this cut.”

“Okay. You have to g—”

“I know what to do. I’ve seen you do it a thousand times.” Her lips parted, and InuYasha added: “Don’t act so surprised.”

He cleaned the wound with cotton, water and soap, then used a different ball of cotton to carefully apply the content of a smelly little bottle to the extension of it. Kagome hissed, but he ignored it in favor of wrapping it all up with a band-aid. To ensure it was properly stretched, he gently ran his thumb through it, allowing the touch to linger more than necessary and his stare to go from her cheek to her eyes.

Her eyes.

The most stunning maze.

Let yourself get in, you are sure to get lost.

She blinked before he could, keeping them closed and leaning into his palm, her hand lifting to cover and caress his.

It would be so easy to grip her chin. To turn her face to him. To bring her to his lips.

So easy to steal a kiss.

Why do the easiest actions have to carry the most difficult consequences?

Clearing his throat, InuYasha transformed present into a loving memory.

“Take some rest. We leave first thing tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me.”

On the way to claim Kagome’s prior guarding position by the entrance of the cave, InuYasha collected Tessaiga while she busied herself with getting cozy inside the sleeping bag.

“Kagome?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“InuYasha, I think we’re way past saying thank you for saving each other’s lives.”

“No, not for that. I mean, for that too, but... for coming. For staying by my side.”

“Stupid.” She mocked him, her voice lethargic as exhaustion finally caught up to her. “Where else would I be?”

A/N: this was some serious self indulgent bullshit. I regret nothing.

@inukag-week here is another piece of contribution. Kind of merged the Loyalty and the Instinct prompts here. Oops.

#Inukag Week #InuYasha #Inukag #Kagome #Kagome Higurashi #My writing #Inukag Fluff #Inukag Oneshot #Inukag Fanfiction

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wackapedia · 5 years ago

Text

The Silver Dragon

Peasant! Jungkook x Reader, Daechwita! Yoongi x Reader

Historical AU featuring the whole OT7,Moderate violence, Treason, Royal family drama

Word count: 3.6k

a/n: This was so fun to write i keep surprising myself with the sh!t i come up with

You were taking your morning walk while being followed by your entourage. Your silk hanbok shimmers under the bright sunshine shining down on Hanyang, Joseon’s capital. “Good morning, my lady!” A group of scholars led by Kim Taehyung greets you. “A good day to walk within the palace walls, am I right?” He comments, a sly smile graces his handsome face. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You raise an eyebrow at him. He laughs as he tightens his grip on his books. “Oh, nothing, my lady! Have a good day.” He rushes before whispering “please don’t let us catch you scaling the palace walls again, my lady. Your brother, the crown prince already threatened to kick us out if we try to cover for you again!” He pulls away and bows gracefully. You have been sneaking away from the palace lately, disguised in peasant clothing. Court life has been extremely boring, you were looking for an adventure. As a daughter of a king and a concubine, you played a little role in running the kingdom. You were to be married off to someone to strengthen ties with the kingdom and expected to rear sons. Your life would be over before it began.

You and your entourage arrive at the palace’s main courtyard where you see your brother and his troops preparing their horses and cargo wagons. “Are you going somewhere?” you approach your brother. “Yes, we are going to Gyongsang. There are rumors of rebel troops stirring there. Haven’t you heard?” he speaks while securing the saddle to his horse. “Ah is that so? I wouldn’t know the latest rumors, really…” You try to be nonchalant. “You’ve been sneaking out of the palace for a while now, I’m sure you’ve heard a couple of rumors out there?!” he slams a leather bag, startling you. Aigoo, everyone’s out to get me today! You thought to yourself. “Yah! You think I won’t find out?” his hands are on his hips now. His troops try their best to avert their eyes from the royal quarrel. His captain, Park Jimin, who had witnessed this several times only rolls his eyes. Your brother leans closer to you. “I had you followed last week. I know you’re meeting someone. A peasant boy. y/n, This is no time for playing around. Something big is going to happen very soon. I know it. So you better start taking your life seriously.” He mounts his horse and instructs his troops, turning back on you. “Something big?” You wonder to yourself. --- Later in the day, you return to your quarters. There is no other way to pass the time than to do embroidery or read a book on poetry. You’ve memorized every single poem in all 12 volumes of classic poetry in your little bookshelf. You sigh to yourself as you pulled out the last book tucked at the corner of your shelf.

Classic poetry volume 13

Your eyes widen at the book’s header. Since when did classic poetry get a 13th volume?! You flip the pages to find it empty, except for the last page, which contained a single stanza.

“The moon will sink twice And the silver dragon will rise Bearing the black stone And will begin the rise of Joseon”

You rush to visit the royal shaman, bringing the 13th book with you. “What does this mean?!” Tossing the book to Hoseok, one of the royal shamans in training. He was nodding off on his desk while studying. Your sudden intrusion startles him, causing him to bounce from his seat. “Huh what?!” he clutches his chest. “Classical poetry only has 12 volumes. Why do I have a 13th one?” Hoseok flips through the pages of the book to find it empty. “My lady, this is just an empty journal…” You take the book from his hands, startling him again. He’s right. Even the title had disappeared. You repeatedly flip through the pages, getting more aggravated. “My lady, are you alright? You're scaring me…” “But there was something here!” You yell. “Silver dragon bearing the black stone!” What does it mean? Hoseok stares at you for a minute before reaching for his brush. He writes down the words in his elegant handwriting. “i-I’ll see what I can find about this…. For now maybe you need to take a rest, my lady. You seem unwell…”

You didn’t have the appetite for dinner that night. You took what you could from the food served to your quarters, wrapping them up before getting dressed in your peasant disguise and sneaked out of the palace. This was your first time leaving at night so you were a little nervous but you made it anyway. Walking through the muddy pavements of Hanyang’s peasant city, you make your way to the familiar hut you’ve always visited when you sneaked out. Jeon Jungkook’s house. Well, it’s not really his, he shares it with several orphaned kids and some around his age. “Kook..?” The hut was dark and quiet, only one candle illuminating the small room. You let yourself inside before spotting Jungkook, the peasant boy you loved, raiding through his chest of belongings. “Y/n?! What are you doing here? its late!” he was evidently surprised. “I really wanted to see you. Plus my brother is travelling to Gyeongsang. Is that a bruise on your cheek?!” You rush to cradle his face marred by a dark bruise on his cheekbone. He smirks before saying “Oh princess, you should see the other guy.” “Who was it?” “Seokjin.” “Again?!” You tell him off. This no longer comes as a surprise to you as the two always bicker at almost any petty topic they choose. “Y/n, what are you doing here?” Jungkook’s tone suddenly went serious. He was unwrapping the cloth that was tied around a long item. He tosses the wrapping to reveal a sword. “Why, what’s going on? Where are the kids?” You look around the empty hut. “Where did you get that?!” “It belonged to my father. Y/n, Listen to me. I need you to go to Seokjin and ask him to take you with him. He’s headed to Gwacheon. I will meet you there as soon as I can.” “What? What’s going on? I thought we were eloping together?!” “There’s no time to explain.” Jungkook puts on a quiver full of arrows over his shoulder and a bow on the other. He blows out the candle and pulls you out of the house. “Do as I say. I will find you in Gwacheon.” He pulls you in for a quick kiss before winking and running to the other way. It was dark and the pathways were empty. During the short walk to Jin’s house, you didn’t encounter a single soul. It scared you. “Jin?” You knock at the wooden door of his tiny hut. It was dark. He was probably asleep. “Seokjin, its me. Kook sent me, and asked me to come with you to Gwacheon?” You were unsure of Kook’s instructions. There was no answer. You pried the door open. The house was completely dark except for the moonlight streaming through the holes in the hay roofing. He wasn’t there. His things aren’t there. He already left for Gwacheon. Confused and tired with all the fuss going on, you walked back to the palace, climbing its walls, and walking straight to your quarters, not bothering to hide from the royal guards. You slept a dreamless sleep.

You jolted awake by the sudden noise from outside your chambers. There were muffled screaming. And then silence. You were too scared to move. You wrapped yourself with the blanket, staying perfectly still on your cushion. The door suddenly slides open, revealing a man in light armor. You don’t recognize his face nor the sigil he wears. “Please get dressed, My Lady. The king summons you.” He gently closes the door, giving you privacy. His calm tone almost makes you forget you were afraid. You carefully rose and got dressed. The sun gradually brightens the sky, illuminating the main courtyard of the palace. The courtyard was littered with dead royal guards, blood staining the stone ground. Horrified, you tried to scream and run but the calm man grabs your arm. “Please don’t. You have nowhere else to go, Lady y/n. everything will be alright.” His calm demeanor fails to rub into you this time as he pulls you up the stairs to the King’s throne hall. “Who are you?” you ask your captor. “I am Kim Namjoon. You have nothing to worry about, my lady.” He points you toward the throne hall. His graceful movement indicates that this man is of noble birth yet he is not familiar to you at all. There were only a few candles lit inside the throne hall. You feel yourself being watched by several pairs of eyes lurking in the dark corners. Sunlight finally enters the throne hall. The wide doors facing east accommodates the sun rising from the edge of the roofed gates of the royal palace. Warmth crawls from its doorstep toward the high platform, up to the Phoenix throne and the stranger sitting on it.

His silver hair glows under the morning light. His skin, smooth and pale like porcelain, marred by a scar down his right eye. By his feet, a pool of blood gathers. The blood of your father, the king, lying headless at the edge of the platform. Your hand flies to your mouth, failing to mask the shock and disbelief. Tears begin to gather at the edge of your eyes, spilling as you blink. Your knees threaten to give in, but you try to hold firm under the scrutinizing gaze of the usurper sitting on the throne. The silver haired stranger descends from the throne platform, walking towards you. His dark robes, moist with blood, cascades behind him almost elegantly. “Your majesty, this is lady y/n, princess of Joseon, Daughter of the deceased king Seondaewang and Concubine Cho.” Namjoon announces. “Ah, the informant!” He stands close to you. Too close. His eyes are pitch black. His pretty face almost distracts you from the bloody hand that tries to reach yours. Informant? “Who are you and what do want?” Your voice trembles with hate. “He is your king-“Namjoon tries to explain. “He is a murderer!” You lash out, pulling your arm from his grasp. The silver-haired man presses his tongue against his cheek before grabbing you by the neck, pulling your face dangerously close to his. “If it wasn’t for this pretty mouth, we’d never know your dear brother had left the capital. I owe you my gratitude." His thumb traces your lip before forcing your head to the side and releases his grip. You come face to face with Jeon Jungkook, wide-eyed, bruised and blood-stained face failing to hide the fear in his eyes. His breathing picks up. “You! How dare you!" Your anger clouds your judgement, tears continuing to spill from your eyes. “Y/n, I didn’t mean for any of this.. I told you to leave with Jin! I told you I would find you!” His pleading falls on your deaf ears, blood rushing through your veins.

“Yoongi!” Namjoon calls the murderer’s attention. A royal guard runs up the stairs, huffing and puffing upon entering the throne hall. “Jimin?!” You call out to him. He briefly glances at you before kneeling in front of the man named Yoongi. “Your majesty, the crown prince and his party has heard of your attack and are on their way here.” Yoongi humorlessly chuckles. “We must prepare to welcome your brother, Princess y/n!” “Where are they now?” Namjoon inquires. “They are in the city.” Jimin reports. Yoongi paces around the throne hall, the soles of his footwear paints bloody footprints on the floor. His fingers pinch at his lips before growling and unsheathing his sword. The ringing of his blade cuts through the silence of the room. He tosses the scabbard to the stone floors and marches toward the throne room’s doors upon hearing the rush of horses at the gates. The palace gates are thrown open, revealing your brother and his small band of troops. The crown prince was terribly outnumbered.

“Min Yoongi!”Your brother screams from across the courtyard. Yoongi stands proud at the top of the stairs, his sword glimmering under the sun. Your eyes shift upon the realization that your brother has called him with his full name. Do they know each other? Your brother continues to march toward the foot of the stone stairs. “How dare you double-cross me?!” “Looks like I double-crossed the double-crosser first…” Yoongi descends gracefully to the courtyard. His men rushes to follow him out. You slowly step out of the throne room, squinting at the morning sun.

“The deal was to assassinate the king, not attack the palace!” Your brother angrily spat. He was too late when he realized you were there, listening to his confession of treason. “y..y/n…” Yoongi laughs and looks up to you from the bottom of the stairs. “That’s right my lady! Your brother, the crown prince asked me to have your father killed! His royal ass couldn’t wait to sit on the throne!”

Oh your poor father. He raised the hand that eventually had him killed. Your father may not have been the best, but it was never right to... Your knees gave in. Your vision blurs. Your throat dries. You don't realize you were letting out a scream of agony. Jungkook tries to break your fall, grabbing your arms before your knees hit the solid ground.

Sounds of steel clashing against steel ring through the palace. Your eyes look up to the sky, bright and blue. The sunlight was obscured by Jungkook's face, eyes full of worry and regret. "Jagiya, breathe. Look at me. Look at me!" His palm lightly taps your cheek, slowly bringing you back to consciousness. Your vision begins to clear. You raise your hand to grip his shoulder. "Can you stand?" Jungkook's muffled voice inquires, as he carefully supports you up. His eyes remain on yours as you take in the battle ensuing below. The sounds feel so far away. Its like being underwater.

There was so much blood. The blue robes of your brother were darkened by blood, belonging to him and his opponent. The crown prince was pinned down by Yoongi who was holding his thin sword against the prince's neck. The royal sword has been abandoned, away from it's owner's reach. The only thing stopping Yoongi from ending the prince is his palm, pressing against the sword. The prince's other hand digs through his robes and procures a knife, which he quickly raises to stab Yoongi repeatedly on his side.

Your hand grips the material on Jungkook's shoulder. A silken twine of a bow. His half-empty quiver of arrows rest against his back. Ripping the bow from him, you do not feel yourself thinking. The next thing you know, an arrow lodges in to someone's head.

The crown prince falls backward upon impact.

You could not stop yourself from nocking another arrow, pointing it toward the silver-haired man. His onyx eyes stare into your soul as he crawls from the bottom of the stairs, clutching his bloodied torso. The string draws as far as the bow allows. You take a deep breath. A muffled voice calls your name. The bow is pulled from your grasp. But the arrow releases anyway.

Your vision blacks out.

----

You wake up with a jolt, immediately sitting upright on the cushion, bunching up the thick covers wrapped around you. The maidservant who had just entered was startled to find you awake. She hurriedly leaves and returns moments later, carrying a pitcher of water. Soon, Jungkook enters the room, a jolly smile plastered on his face upon seeing you. "Jagiya!" He takes your hand in his. "How long has it been?" Your other hand puts down the empty glass. "Two days. I was so worried about you. Do you remember what happened?" He softly asks. You were surprised to remember everything clearly. Your brother's confession, the swordfight, the arrow that killed him, and the arrow that missed because of Namjoon. You nod your head, answering Jungkook's question.

"Where is Yoongi?" You ask. "He's still weak but he's recovering. He lost a lot of blood." Silence takes over between both of you. Carefully, you slip your hand away from Jungkook's grasp. "We're done now, y/n. We can leave this place. Live in a little hut on our own, you and I, away from here. Like what you've always dreamed..." Jungkook breaks the silence, voice filled with hope. "We can leave as soon as you're well..." "I'm not abandoning my people, Jungkook." You firmly state, staring him straight in the eye. "What?" "I'm staying. I need to-" "You know what he'll do to you, right?" Jungkook's voice begins to rise, laced with anger and confusion. "He'll kill you! Or he'll marry you, and you'll end up dead all the same!" "I will not run away from my duty! I wont betray my kingdom." "What about me? don't you love me anymore?" He stands up from beside you. "We were never meant to be, Jungkook." You sit up at the edge of the bed. "Is this because i'm a peasant? Y/n i did all these for you! So you could be free from your royal duties and we could be together!"

"I cant leave now, jungkook! My father is gone and my brother had him killed. If I wont care for my kingdom, who else will?"

"Y/n you're not making any sense! Please think this through!" Jungkook kneels before you, fisting your skirt and crying into it, begging you to choose him. "Please leave, Jungkook."

A few days pass. Jungkook never came back. You guess he's left to return home to Sangju, or wherever he pleases. You spent your days recovering inside your chambers, your maidservants waiting on you. On the fourth day, you decide to summon Namjoon. "He's well, my lady. He gained consciousness this morning." He respectfully answers. "Where is he? May I see him?"

Namjoon takes you to the king's quarters, where Yoongi was staying. The blinds on the window were drawn all the way up to let the sun fill the whole room. He lay peacefully in the middle of the bed, a thick blanket bunched from his waist. His midsection is wrapped with clean gauze. His body is loitered with scars, but the rest of him is as smooth as porcelain. You took in his peaceful state, his breathing steady, and his kind features.

You stood motionless in the middle of the room, almost afraid to disturb his sleep. Namjoon whispers something to him before helping him to sit up. You were content to see his onyx eyes filled with life as they settle on yours.

"Ah there she is! My life saver!" His voice harsh from sleep. Namjoon settles himself at the corner of the room. "Didn't Namjoon tell you that you were my next target before you passed out?" You say, trying to impose yourself. "Before we passed out." He immediately corrects you. "I heard all about it. I like my women feisty. Gets me hard even when I'm losing blood!" He cackles loudly, before wincing at the pain in his midsection. He takes his time to recover. Namjoon makes no move to help him this time.

Once Yoongi recovers from his fit, Namjoon clears his throat and moves closer to the bed. "My lady, we have a proposition for you." Yoongi looks annoyed at Namjoon. "Are we doing this right now?" he asks. Namjoon gives him a look, eventually making the silver haired man sigh in exasperation.

He takes his time to gather his words as you wait patiently for him. He finally musters his words after a good while. "Princess y/n, I am asking for your hand in marriage-" "I accept." You reply, proud and plain. "Now before you protest- HUH" Namjoon's eyebrows almost reaches his hairline, unable to hide his surprise. "Great. Give us a moment, Namjoon." Yoongi huffs, both in relief and in exasperation. His loyal adviser quietly leaves the room.

"I'm not surprised, really. Its something you would do- accepting my proposal." Yoongi laughs a little to himself. "You know nothing about me." You counter his attempted familiarity towards you. "You know nothing about me as well and yet you accepted." He replies, sensing your hostility. "Because I wont let you ruin Joseon." "I have no plans of ruining Joseon. I'm here to help make it a better kingdom" "With methods of tyranny?" Your voice threatens to overpower. He takes his time to think. "Y/n, do you know why my men are from the peasant class? They are tired of being slaves of the rich yangban class. Your father had no plans for change, your brother was even worse." He calmly answers. "So you think they have you instead?" "No. The people have you. They have hope in you. There are rumors of the princess leaving the palace, bringing food for the hungry under the guise of a peasant. This gives people hope. They have placed their trust in you. I knew the moment you pointed that arrow at me that you are the hope of this kingdom."

You thought back to the days when you sneaked out to meet Jungkook. He lived with orphaned children. On your next visit, you brought food for them, and every visit since. It all felt like a lifetime ago. Those little things that didn't matter to you happened to mean so much to those who were really looking hard.

Yoongi slowly gets out of bed and kneels before you. You let him take your hand as he procures a ring made of black jade stone, putting it on your finger.

"If you ever double-cross me, Min Yoongi, I will not hesitate to kill you." "Yes, my queen." He bows before you.

a/n: What are your thoughts let me KNOWW!! there was a lot going on in this fic oh boy

#bts #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #daechwita #suga x reader #agust d x reader #d-2 #daechwita au #bts fanfiction #bts reader insert

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thetrailofyourbloodinthesnow · 4 years ago

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anon requested: Rama Setu as a Symbol of Love

(tagging some mutals that might like this: @incurablescribbler @1nsaankahanhai-bkr @soniaoutloud @panchali @chaanv) (Also in AO3)

Rama had never seen the sea before. He'd grown in faraway Ayodhya, in the kingdom of Kosala, that had no exit to the sea. Later, during their exile, he'd crossed plains, mountains, and jungles, but the largest bodies of water he'd come across had been rivers. As they started making their way southwards, Lakshman had once asked how much farther south were they planning to go. The terms of their exile hadn't been clear in that regard. "As far as we can," Rama replied. "Maybe we'll reach the end of Bharatavarsha and find the sea," Sita added, trying to infuse a sense of adventure to a journey that none of them had wanted. Rama smiled at her fondly, "Maybe."

Back then the prospect seemed nice – to take a walk on a golden beach, leaving footprints in the sand and watching the gentle ebb and flow of the tides – but as with everything else, there was no joy in it without Sita.

The sight of the sea, in all its unimaginable vastness, only filled him with a terrible sense of helplessness. The vanaras, who had also never seen it, trembled in fear and despair when they reached the shore. "We've reached the edge of the world!" they cried. Rama knew from his lessons at Rishi Vasishtha’s gurukula that such thing was ridiculous, the world didn't have an edge. But it could may as well had been true. It seemed they had reached the end of their search, without having found Lanka, and Sita.

Then, an old vulture called Sampati heard them mention his brother - the valiant Jatayu who'd been mortally wounded trying to save Sita, but lived long enough to point the direction she'd been taken - and offered to help. His atrophied wings couldn't lift him up anymore, but with his sharp eyesight, he looked beyond the horizon and at the distance he saw an island, and in that island, a golden city: Lanka. "If I still could, I would go there myself and find her for you," he told Rama. "But as you see, I cannot fly." And neither can bears or monkeys, Rama thought dejected.

He'd been wrong, though. As it turned out, there was one monkey that could. A monkey that could do the impossible, but couldn't remember his greatness until it was needed the most. When everything seemed lost, Hanuman did a miracle. He increased his size, becoming bigger and bigger until he towered like a mountain, his head scraping the clouds. Then, with a great leap that shook the earth, he rose to the sky, casting his large shadow over the entire beach bellow, and flew off towards Lanka, carrying all of Rama's hopes with him.

~•~•~•~•~

A full day passed without Hanuman returning, and Rama was growing more and more anxious. All his life he'd believed himself to be a very patient man, but this ordeal was greatly testing his limits. He sat by the shore, staring into the distant line where the ocean met the sky. He longed for Sampati's vision, to see beyond that limit, and know what had come of his vanara friend.

More than ever, his thoughts kept returning to his wife. He hadn't known - he'd thought he did, but truly he hadn't - just how much he loved her. How much better her presence made his whole existence. In the hardest of times, she'd given him a reason to laugh, to hope, to dream. She turned an exile that should have been the worst years of his life, into some of the best. And now she was gone, and he felt so utterly lost and lonely. And guilty as well, for having failed to protect her, for having brought her with him in the first place. Although he knew that he couldn’t have stopped her from following him.

Not that he hadn't tried, but she was a stubborn one. She rebuked every argument, rejected all reasoning, and stayed firm in her conviction that her place was at his side, no matter where he was. She promised she would take care of herself, not burdening him at all. And when he still argued against it, she reached the heart of the matter: “Is it that you don't want me at your side?”

No. It was exactly the opposite. He desperately wanted her at his side. The harshness and danger of the forest life didn't strike him as bad as the loneliness of it. But that wasn't a good enough reason to drag her along, like a child dragging along his favorite blanket to give him comfort. She wasn't his property, she was his responsibility. At least he knew Lakshman could defend himself, but he didn't know if he could ensure her safety out there.

"What if you get hurt? What if you get lost?" He insisted. "I'm not so delicate. Don't expect me to trip with every pebble on the way. And if I got lost, then I would find my way back to you." She locked eyes with him. "I would go through hell to find you." At that, knew nothing would stop her from follow him, because she wasn't just doing it out of duty. He realized then the deep of her love for him.

Did she know the deep of his love for her? Hard to say, since he wasn't one the show it. He was always keenly aware of their station in life, even in the forest. They were the rightful king and queen of Ayodhya, and he considered the overemotional display of romantic affection to be below their dignity. And in any case, it wasn't in his nature. He'll rather show his love through respect, through service, through protection (although he'd failed miserably at the latter).

But when he lost her, something broke inside of him, shattering his composure. He'd wept and despaired, wandering the forest crying out for his beloved like any forlorn lover. In an ironic reversal of roles, Lakshman had to ask him to remain cool-headed. Falling into desperation wouldn't get him closer to Sita.

He listened to his little brother, and focused instead on the single-minded goal of getting her back – and of slaying the trice-dammed rakshasa that had kidnapped her. He'd taken all that anguish and buried it deep within himself, but with every day that passed without her, it threatened with bursting out. He could feel it eating at his gut now, as he looked at the distant line where the ocean met the sky and waited for a sight of his vanara friend.

And sooner rather than later, he got it. First, it was a tiny spot in the sky that grew larger and larger as it approached, until he could clearly see Hanuman returning.

~•~•~•~•~

Hanuman didn't disappoint him. He'd found his wife and even managed to speak with her. And he brought her hairpin and a story known only to the couple as proof of the meeting. But all the proof Rama needed was the reverence and admiration with which he spoke of her. Nobody who had known his Sita could fail to admire her.

Hanuman told him of his Sita: sited in a garden of Ashoka trees, refusing to enjoy the luxury of her captor's palace, bullied by her guards and harassed by Ravana, but unyielding to any threat. Showing her fortitude while waiting to be rescued, growing sadder by the day, but never letting it show, and never losing hope that her Rama was coming for her. And he was. Now that he was certain that Sita was beyond the sea’s great expanse, nothing was going to stop him from reaching her.

He regretted that he didn't have anything – not even words – to give Hanuman that would demonstrate his gratitude for what he'd done for him. So he simply embraced him, like a brother. For the vanara had become as dear to him as one.

Now it came the matter of how their army would cross the sea to Lanka. Rama sat in council with Lakshman, Sugriva, Jambavan, Angad and Hanuman to discuss it. The most obvious option was to build boats, but doing so would require a lot of time and expertise that they simply didn't have. Other options were proposed – some plausible, other fantastical – but at the end Rama decided that if they couldn't find a way across the sea, then maybe the sea could make way for them. The most fantastical of options, perhaps, but he could try asking.

For several days and nights, he sat upon the beach fasting and reciting mantras, praying to Varuna, the Lord of the Oceans. But the only answer he received was the roaring of the waves. His frustration began to mount. Where before the sea seemed like an endless stretch, now he saw it as an irritating block in his path that only serve to keep him idle when he could have been battling Ravana and his army. A burning rage began to boil inside him, and at last reached the end of his patience.

He commanded Lakshman to bring him his bow and quiver, and began firing burning arrows at the sea. Those terrible ashtras caused the water to steam and boil, filling the surface with the dead carcasses of aquatic creatures. He placed one last arrow on his bow. "Varuna!" He shouted. "This arrow of mine will scorch every drop of you, until the oceans of these earth turn into barren deserts! Unless you come and face me!" He took aim, ready to shoot. "Well?!"

The sea swelled and swirled, spiralling inwards into a whirlwind, and from its midst he appeared. Lord Varuna rose from the waters with a great makara as his vahana; his skin was of a bright cerulean hue, his ornaments were made of seaweeds and pearls and seashells, and in his hands, he carried a noose and a fishing net.

"Lord Ramachandra," his voice boomed over the clashing of the waves. "Don't act rashly. From the ocean comes the salt, the fish, and the rain. If you destroy it, the whole of creation will suffer. "

Rama kept his arrow pointed at the ocean. "If you part the sea for my army to cross, then I'll have no reason to destroy it."

"The fire's nature is to burn, the wind's nature is to blow, and the nature of the ocean is to be deep and expansive and impassable. I cannot change my nature for you." Lord Varuna sounded apologetic enough to compel Rama to lower his bow with a sigh. "There is another way, however. Amidst your army, there is a vanara named Nala, rocks thrown by him into the ocean cannot sink. Have him built a bridge over me and I will hold it afloat. May victory be yours." And with that he disappeared back into the waters.

Rama called on Nala to prove Lord Varuna's words. The monkey picked up a stone and hurled it into the sea, and sure enough it floated. Small ones and big ones, every stone he touched before being thrown stayed on the surface of the water. But another problem soon became clear: although the stones didn't sink, they drifted away from each other. The army began racking their brains for a solution, when Hanuman got an idea.

He carved the name 'Rama' into one stone and handed it over to Nala. The stone stayed put, unmoved by the tide. Another stone with Rama's name was thrown into the water and it stuck to the other like a magnet to metal. Rama was impressed. "How did you know it would work?" he asked Hanuman. "Because your name has become my mantra. It was by chanting your name that I could fly over to Lanka, and overcome every hardship I founded there. It's your name that gives me peace, comfort, and clarity whenever I need it." Rama didn't know what to respond.

So it began the construction of the bridge. The bears and monkeys divided themselves into groups with different jobs assigned to them. Some scoured for stones and boulders from the nearby mountains, others carved Rama's name into them, and others passed those stones in a long chain to Nala, who hurled them into the sea. Jambavan and Sugriva organized the groups, Sampati - perched on a great rock - supervised the works, and Hanuman flew all over, doing the job of a hundred workers all by himself.

Now that they had a clear goal to work for, the troops were full of high spirits, and the sound of happy chatter was almost as loud as the ruckus of the construction. Rama saw Lakshman laugh for the first time in months as he competed with some of the bigger vanaras to see who could lift the bigger rock.

And Rama saw them work amazed by the fact that while he was doing it all for Sita, they were doing it all for him. They spoke eagerly of reaching Lanka and fighting the rakshasas to recover their Lord’s wife, and his honor. And, whenever a particularly big boulder was put in place, or whenever some difficulty in the construction was overcome, the workers would shout in unison "Jai Sri Rama."

And it wasn’t just the bears and monkeys, but also other animals who joined the efforts. Once, Rama spotted a little squirrel scurrying between the feet of the bigger workers. He would wet himself in the sea, and then roll on the sand, sticking the sand grains to his fur. Afterwards, he would run to the bridge and shake the grains off, filling the gaps between the rocks. Rama pick up the little one in his hand, and ran his fingers through his back, saying: “Thank you.”

What he had done to have these animals act so oddly against their nature, and to command such loyalty from them, he couldn’t say, but he felt immensely grateful anyway.

And as the days passed, their labor bore fruit. The great bridge began stretching towards to horizon, glistering in the sunlight like the Milky Way across the night sky. Rama worked strenuously along with the vanaras, knowing every stone, every boulder, every pebble, brought him a step closer to her.

“Bhaiya, look!” Lakshman pointed him to the horizon that he hadn’t glanced at for some time, so fixed was he on his labor. In the distance, faintly visible, was a stretch of land. Rama smiled. I’m coming Sita.

#hindu mythology #hindumythologyedit #ramayana #rama #sita #rama setu #mythedit #my edits #my fics #hope you like it anon!

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agentrouka-blog · 4 years ago

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Arya and Weasel - sending your inner child off into the woods

Weasel is an orphaned, traumatized girl of around two years of age whose story is absolutely heartbreaking. We meet her in A Clash of Kings and she accompanies us for the span of three Arya chapters, which takes place over just about a month, most of which takes place off page.

We meet her at the end of Arya III, she has her first interaction with Arya in Arya IV and then tags along with Arya, Lommy, Hot Pie and Gendry in the woods until she runs off into the unknown at the end of Arya V.

I’ll follow the story and try to give some sense of time and location to justify my time estimates, simply because GRRM chooses to be so vague.

Gods, Arya’s chapters in ACOK are among the very finest in the entire book series.

Warning: Long. As always, excessive use of quotes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ACOK, Arya III (chapter 9)

Yoren and his gang have been traveling the Kingsroad since King’s Landing. She beat Hot Pie bloody in Arya I and they had a tense encounter with goldcloaks looking for Gendry in Arya II. Now they change course westward of the Kingsroad close to the beginning of the chapter.

“We’re not far from Gods Eye,” the black brother said one morning. “The kingsroad won’t be safe till we’re across the Trident. So we’ll come up around the lake along the western shore, they’re not like to look for us there.” At the next spot where two ruts cut cross each other, he turned the wagons west.

Here farmland gave way to forest, the villages and holdfasts were smaller and farther apart, the hills higher and the valleys deeper. Food grew harder to come by.

They spend an unspecified amount of time, likely about two weeks, traveling and living off the land. Enough for two days delay to still matter but long enough to form habits, see landscapes change, have hunting adventures.

Outside a holdfast called Briarwhite, some fieldhands surrounded them in a cornfield, demanding coin for the ears they’d taken. (…)

The next day Koss came racing back to warn Yoren of a camp ahead. (…) “Might be one side, might be t’other. If they’re hurt that bad, likely they’d take our mounts no matter who they are. Might be they’d take more than that. I believe we’ll go wide around them.” It took them miles out of their way, and cost them two days at the least, but the old man said it was cheap at the price. (…)

Arya saw men guarding the fields more and more when they turned north again. (…) At one place, she spotted a man perched up in a dead tree, with a bow in his hand and a quiver hanging from the branch beside him. (…)

A day later Dobber spied a red glow against the evening sky. “Either this road went and turned again, or that sun’s setting in the north.”

Weasel’s tragedy begins when her village is put to the torch. The blaze is enough to light up the night sky from half a day’s travel away. Judging from what we see in Arya IV, the violence was likely unspeakable.

By dawn the fire had burned itself out, but none of them slept very well that night. It was midday when they arrived at the place where the village had been.

It’s butchery and desolation. Yoren goes to investigate the destroyed holdfast.

When they finally returned, Yoren had a little girl in his arms, and Murch and Cutjack were carrying a woman in a sling made of an old torn quilt. The girl was no older than two and she cried all the time, a whimpery sound, like something was caught in her throat. Either she couldn’t talk yet or she had forgotten how. The woman’s right arm ended in a bloody stump at her elbow, and her eyes didn’t seem to see anything, even when she was looking right at it.

I knee-jerk assumed the woman to be Weasel’s mother, but that is never explicitly stated in the text. For all we know, they aren’t related at all. They are not shown to interact, and even if the woman was Weasel’s mother, she is too far gone from her severe injury to be coherent, let alone care for the child.

She talked, but she only said one thing. “Please,” she cried, over and over. “Please. Please.” Rorge thought that was funny. He laughed through the hole in his face where his nose had been, and Biter started laughing too, until Murch cursed them and told them to shut up. Yoren had them fix the woman a place in the back of a wagon. “And be quick about it,” he said. “Come dark, there’ll be wolves here, and worse.” “I’m scared,” Hot Pie murmured when he saw the one-armed woman thrashing in the wagon. “Me too,” Arya confessed. He squeezed her shoulder. “I never truly kicked no boy to death, Arry. I just sold my mommy’s pies, is all.” Arya rode as far ahead of the wagons as she dared, so she wouldn’t have to hear the little girl crying or listen to the woman whisper, “Please.” She remembered a story Old Nan had told once, about a man imprisoned in a dark castle by evil giants. He was very brave and smart and he tricked the giants and escaped . . . but no sooner was he outside the castle than the Others took him, and drank his hot red blood. Now she knew how he must have felt. The one-armed woman died at evenfall. Gendry and Cutjack dug her grave on a hillside beneath a weeping willow. When the wind blew, Arya thought she could hear the long trailing branches whispering, “Please. Please. Please.” The little hairs on the back of her neck rose, and she almost ran from the graveside.

I almost inserted a long paragraph about the textual parallels to Lyanna and Sansa here. But I refrained because this is merely meant to document Weasel.

The woman and the child (and the murdered men I didn’t include in my quotes) are Arya’s first direct confrontation with the vicious of this war. She and Hot Pie are so humbled in the face of it, they forget their original enmity, their posturing. They become children again. They admit their bone-deep fear.

The human suffering is an unbearable horror and Arya, understandably, tries to block it out and get away from it.

So this tiny little girl Weasel has just watched every person she has ever known being murdered by scary, angry strangers and then spent that night and half a day among the charred ruins and the bodies. Hungry, thirsty, scared. No one shows up to comfort her until another stranger picks her up and carries her away.

It goes on:

“No fire tonight,” Yoren told them. Supper was a handful of wild radishes Koss found, a cup of dry beans, water from a nearby brook. The water had a funny taste to it, and Lommy told them it was the taste of bodies, rotting someplace upstream. Hot Pie would have hit him if old Reysen hadn’t pulled them apart.

We’ll return to this lovely image.

Arya encounters wolves as she relieves herself in the woods at night. They do not harm her, but she is clearly shaken by everything that has happened.

The crying girl travelling alonside her and the wolves prowling the woods. Two sides of Arya.

She tells Yoren she doesn’t care. She just wants to go home. The chapter ends on:

“Go to sleep, boy. Hear me?”

She did try. Yet as she lay under her thin blanket, she could hear the wolves howling . . . and another sound, fainter, no more than a whisper on the wind, that might have been screams.

Followed by a lovely thematic transition at the beginning of Davos I.

The morning air was dark with the smoke of burning gods. They were all afire now, Maid and Mother, Warrior and Smith, the Crone with her Pearl eyes and the Father with his gilded beard; even the Stranger, carved to look more animal than human. The old dry wood and countless layers of paint and varnish blazed with a fierce hungry light. Heat rose shimmering through the chill air; behind, the gargoyles and stone dragons on the castle walls seemed blurred, as if Davos were seeing them through a veil of tears. Or as if the beasts were trembling, stirring . . .

Arya is about to enter the warzone for real.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ACOK, Arya IV (chapter 14)

We open not too far from where we left Yoren’s merry band. They have reached the river flowing straight south from the Gods Eye.

It seemed a peaceful place . . . until Koss spotted the dead man. “There, in the reeds.” He pointed, and Arya saw it. The body of a soldier, shapeless and swollen. His sodden green cloak had hung up on a rotted log, and a school of tiny silver fishes were nibbling at his face. “I told you there was bodies,” Lommy announced. “I could taste them in that water.”

He tasted them in the brook, this is a river. Usually brooks flow into rivers, not the other way around. But not too much travel time can have passed for Lommy to make that remark. A day? Two days?

We get a location.

It was midday when the others returned. Woth reported a wooden bridge half a mile downstream, but someone had burned it up. Yoren peeled a sourleaf off the bale. “Might be we could swim the horses over, maybe the donkeys, but there’s no way we’ll get those wagons across. And there’s smoke to the north and west, more fires, could be this side o’ the river’s the place we want to be.” He picked up a long stick and drew a circle in the mud, a line trailing down from it. “That’s Gods Eye, with the river flowing south. We’re here.” He poked a hole beside the line of the river, under the circle. “We can’t go round west of the lake, like I thought. East takes us back to the kingsroad.” He moved the stick up to where the line and circle met. “Near as I recall, there’s a town here. The holdfast’s stone, and there’s a lordling got his seat there too, just a towerhouse, but he’ll have a guard, might be a knight or two. We follow the river north, should be there before dark. They’ll have boats, so I mean to sell all we got and hire us one.” He drew the stick up through the circle of the lake, from bottom to top. “Gods be good, we’ll find a wind and sail across the Gods Eye to Harrentown.”

We don’t know what hour the sun sets but it’s early autumn in Westeros and I’m guessing they’re about 7 to 8 hours from the south shore of the God’s Eye, at wagon and donkey travel-speed.

We have our first mention of Weasel among a heartbreaking instance of Arya’s remaining faith in humanity.

Hot Pie was being silly; it wouldn’t be ghosts at Harrenhal, it would be knights. Arya could reveal herself to Lady Whent, and the knights would escort her home and keep her safe. That was what knights did; they kept you safe, especially women. Maybe Lady Whent would even help the crying girl.

Sadly, we don’t hear who has been taking care of the little girl since her mother died. Arya makes no mention of it.

They reach the deserted town.

The black brother left ten to guard the wagons and the whimpery little girl, and split the rest of them into four groups of five to search the town.

There are no boats, they decide to spend the night at the holdfast. Lots of descriptions of the holdfast and the town. No mention of the little girl. Seriously, who is minding this little toddler?

When the food was ready, Arya ate a chicken leg and a bit of onion. No one talked much, not even Lommy. Gendry went off by himself afterward, polishing his helm with a look on his face like he wasn’t even there. The crying girl whimpered and wept, but when Hot Pie offered her a bit of goose she gobbled it down and looked for more.

Ah, at least someone is feeding her. Thank you, Hot Pie. Weasel is hungry, she wants to live.

Hot Pie went off and let her alone and Arya curled up on her pallet. She could hear the crying girl from the far side of the haven. I wish she’d just be quiet. Why does she have to cry all the time?

Getting some sister parallels in here.

Jeyne Poole had been confined with her, but Jeyne was useless. Her face was puffy from all her crying, and she could not seem to stop sobbing about her father.

"I'm certain your father is well," Sansa told her when she had finally gotten the dress buttoned right. "I'll ask the queen to let you see him." She thought that kindness might lift Jeyne's spirits, but the other girl just looked at her with red, swollen eyes and began to cry all the harder. She was such a child. (AGOT, Sansa IV)

Don’t like others crying around you when you’re scared, Stark Sisters, do you? There’s a Robb parallel, too.

"Rickon needs you," Robb said sharply. "He's only three, he doesn't understand what's happening. He thinks everyone has deserted him, so he follows me around all day, clutching my leg and crying. I don't know what to do with him." He paused a moment, chewing on his lower lip the way he'd done when he was little. "Mother, I need you too. I'm trying but I can't … I can't do it all by myself." His voice broke with sudden emotion, and Catelyn remembered that he was only fourteen. She wanted to get up and go to him, but Bran was still holding her hand and she could not move. (AGOT, Catelyn III)

They tend to have other characters reflect their inner emotions. That crying, overwhelmed child that they are trying to ingore: themselves.

Arya, likely through warg power, wakes up to warn the others of the imminent attack. Amory Lorch’s riders are putting the town to the torch. Arya is watching from the holdfast parapets.

Something bumped against her leg, and she glanced down to discover the crying girl clutching her. “Get away!” She wrenched her leg free. “What are you doing up here? Run and hide someplace, you stupid.” She shoved the girl away.

No room for soft feelings when you have to function to survive.

Lorch is not inclined to spare Yoren on account of being with the NW. They attack and throw torches, the barn has a secret tunnel and Yoren orders them to escape. But the barn is already on fire.

As they were running toward the barn, Arya spied the crying girl sitting in the middle of the chaos, surrounded by smoke and slaughter. She grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to her feet as the others raced ahead. The girl wouldn’t walk, even when slapped. Arya dragged her with her right hand while she held Needle in the left. Ahead, the night was a sullen red. The barn’s on fire, she thought. Flames were licking up its sides from where a torch had fallen on straw, and she could hear the screaming of the animals trapped within. Hot Pie stepped out of the barn. “Arry, come on! Lommy’s gone, leave her if she won’t come!” Stubbornly, Arya dragged all the harder, pulling the crying girl along. Hot Pie scuttled back inside, abandoning them . . . but Gendry came back, the fire shining so bright on his polished helm that the horns seemed to glow orange. He ran to them, and hoisted the crying girl up over his shoulder. “Run!”

In this moment of absolute mortal danger, Arya decides to take charge of the traumatized toddler to ensure her survival, stubbornly, violently even. Just like Yoren did with her. Hot Pie would have left her. Ouch. Gendry soon takes over, luckily.

The open trap was only a few feet ahead, but the fire was spreading fast, consuming the old wood and dry straw faster than she would have believed. Arya remembered the Hound’s horrible burned face. “Tunnel’s narrow,” Gendry shouted. “How do we get her through?” “Pull her,” Arya said. “Push her.” “Good boys, kind boys,” called Jaqen H’ghar, coughing. “Get these fucking chains off!” Rorge screamed. Gendry ignored them. “You go first, then her, then me. Hurry, it’s a long way.” “When you split the firewood,” Arya remembered, “where did you leave the axe?” “Out by the haven.” He spared a glance for the chained men. “I’d save the donkeys first. There’s no time.” “You take her!” she yelled. “You get her out! You do it!” The fire beat at her back with hot red wings as she fled the burning barn.

Even having grabbed the little girl and knowing there is a path to escaping, Arya cannot simply flee. She hands over the charge of Weasel to Gendry and proceeds to save the lives of the three captives from the black cells. Because Arya doesn’t just let people die. Not unless she wants them dead herself. A force of nature.

She gets the axe from outside in the battlezone, walks back into the blazing barn, throws the axe into the wagon and dives down to safety. The chapter ends thus:

Arya rolled headfirst into the tunnel and dropped five feet. She got dirt in her mouth but she didn’t care, the taste was fine, the taste was mud and water and worms and life. Under the earth the air was cool and dark. Above was nothing but blood and roaring red and choking smoke and the screams of dying horses. She moved her belt around so Needle would not be in her way, and began to crawl. A dozen feet down the tunnel she heard the sound, like the roar of some monstrous beast, and a cloud of hot smoke and black dust came billowing up behind her, smelling of hell. Arya held her breath and kissed the mud on the floor of the tunnel and cried. For whom, she could not say.

So that went from dire to catastrophic.

I love how this chapter was structured. It starts out quiet, the unease builds in the empty town, they create a moment of respite eating dinner in the perceived safety of the holdfast, but even there they have doomed themselves by lighting the cookfire. Then it escalates, the howling of the wolves, the phony negotiations, the blaze they saw in the distance the chapter before now comes to them, and everything sinks into cacophony, until the last second of dubious escape. Arya’s helpless tears are such a well-earned release of panic and tension. There is no safety, only momentary escape, only confusion. It’s monstrous.

She cries, like Weasel cried.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ACOK, Arya V (chapter 19)

We open to Arya high up on a tree observing a village on the Western lakeshore.

Someone’s there. Arya chewed her lip. All the other places they’d come upon had been empty and desolate. Farms, villages, castles, septs, barns, it made no matter. If it could burn, the Lannisters had burned it; if it could die, they’d killed it.

They have been traveling in the woods a while since the night of the blaze. Arya remembers them returning the next night, burying Yoren and joining up with three survivors. The route is North along the Western lakeshore.

Cutjack opened the door at Gendry’s shout, and when Kurz said they’d be better pressing on north than going back, Arya had clung to the hope that she still might reach Winterfell. (…)

To the east, Gods Eye was a sheet of sunhammered blue that filled half the world. Some days, as they made their slow way up the muddy shore (Gendry wanted no part of any roads, and even Hot Pie and Lommy saw the sense in that), Arya felt as though the lake were calling her. (…)

North along the shore, past a number of deserted rural settlings.

At the end of the day she would often sit on a rock and dangle her feet in the cool water. She had finally thrown away her cracked and rotted shoes. Walking barefoot was hard at first, but the blisters had finally broken, the cuts had healed, and her soles had turned to leather. The mud was nice between her toes, and she liked to feel the earth underfoot when she walked.

This process will have taken some time. A few weeks.

From up here, she could see a small wooded island off to the northeast.

While the Isle of Faces is not truly small, there is no mention of other wooded islands on the lake. This would place Arya less than halfway up the western shore of the lake. This would match the wagon travel speed of a few weeks from the kingsroad to the holdfast on the south shore. They are slow because they avoid roads, trudge through vegetation and mud, and because they are encumbered by injury and a toddler.

The food situation is not great.

She had broken her fast on some acorn paste and a handful of bugs. Bugs weren’t so bad when you got used to them. Worms were worse, but still not as bad as the pain in your belly after days without food. Finding bugs was easy, all you had to do was kick over a rock. Arya had eaten a bug once when she was little, just to make Sansa screech, so she hadn’t been afraid to eat another. Weasel wasn’t either, but Hot Pie retched up the beetle he tried to swallow, and Lommy and Gendry wouldn’t even try. Yesterday Gendry had caught a frog and shared it with Lommy, and, a few days before, Hot Pie had found blackberries and stripped the bush bare, but mostly they had been living on water and acorns.

The kids are on their own. Kurz the poacher was kind to them and gave them some survival training. But he died four days after they set off from an infected wound. The other two adults abandoned them directly after. Echoes of Dany with Drogo and the khalasar. Up and gone when he died, leaving behind the weak and the slaves.

Maybe Tarber and Cutjack figured they would stand a better chance without a gaggle of orphan boys to herd along. They probably would too, but that didn’t stop her hating them for leaving.

This is horrific. Four children between 14 and 9 years old, plus a little toddler. Sneakily abandoned by the two remaining adults. The Hansel and Gretel vibes are strong. Like Hansel and Gretel, they will be captured looking for food. Like Gretel, Arya will free them using cooking as a weapon, eventually. But that’s for later.

Very much of Arya’s chapters echoes Dany, actually. All from opposite sides. The violence, the abandonment, the eventual enslavement, the starving. The comparison to sheep. It all shows the bottom side of Dany’s war at Drogo’s side, and her travels through the desert with the baby dragons. Even Vaes Tolorro mirrors the Gods Eye town. Food and rest, and visitors that will lead them to another large settlement, eventually. But back to the kids in the woods.

Arya rejoins the others and we see Weasel again.

At the sound of her voice, Weasel came creeping out from the bushes. Lommy had named her that. He said she looked like a weasel, which wasn’t true, but they couldn’t keep on calling her the crying girl after she finally stopped crying. Her mouth was filthy. Arya hoped she hadn’t been eating mud again.

“Did you see people?” asked Gendry. “Mostly just roofs,” Arya admitted, “but some chimneys were smoking, and I heard a horse.” The Weasel put her arms around her leg, clutching tight. Sometimes she did that now.

So Weasel is all cried out. It’s been a month or so since she lost her family after her village was set ablaze, followed soon after by another such violent, fiery attack. She went from a stationary life in a vilage with her family, meal time, bed time, cuddles and playing, to a life of being scared, confused, hungry, dirty and constantly on the move.

Like Arya, Weasel stopped crying, like Arya, Weasel doesn’t mind mud in her mouth.

“If it’s a fishing village, they’d sell us fish, I bet,” said Hot Pie. The lake teemed with fresh fish, but they had nothing to catch them with. Arya had tried to use her hands, the way she’d seen Koss do, but fish were quicker than pigeons and the water played tricks on her eyes. “I don’t know about fish.” Arya tugged at the Weasel’s matted hair, thinking it might be best to hack it off. “There’s crows down by the water. Something’s dead there.” “Fish, washed up on shore,” Hot Pie said. “If the crows eat it, I bet we could.” “We should catch some crows, we could eat them,” said Lommy. “We could make a fire and roast them like chickens.”

I love these kids. They are hungry and grumpy and irritated and listless, in their way. They have no clue what to do and injured Lommy is the most anxious of them all. His leg was wounded and infection is setting in. He is the most helpless, and it makes him the most annoying of them. Yield, he says. Yield.

Like Yoren did to her, Arya contemplates hacking off Weasel’s hair. Matted, tangled. Like a bird’s nest, perchance?

A lovely parallel highlighting the role of privilege, with another taumatized orphan cared for by a Stark daughter:

Alayne smoothed his hair. Lady Lysa had never let the servants touch it, and after she had died Robert had suffered terrible shaking fits whenever anyone came near him with a blade, so it had been allowed to grow until it tumbled over his round shoulders and halfway down his flabby white chest. He does have pretty hair. If the gods are good and he lives long enough to wed, his wife will admire his hair, surely. That much she will love about him. (TWOW, Alayne I)

Arya is trying to care for this child, for her inner child, but she does it listlessly, no practice, no plan. She doesn’t talk to Weasel, at all. Numb.

“Whoever it is, you should yield to them,” Lommy whined. “I need some potion for my leg, it hurts bad.” “If we see any leg potion, we’ll bring it,” Gendry said. “Arry, let’s go, I want to get near before the sun is down. Hot Pie, you keep Weasel here, I don’t want her following.” “Last time she kicked me.” “I’ll kick you if you don’t keep her here.” Without waiting for an answer, Gendry donned his steel helm and walked off. Arya had to scamper to keep up. Gendry was five years older and a foot taller than she was, and long of leg as well. For a while he said nothing, just plowed on through the trees with an angry look on his face, making too much noise. But finally he stopped and said, “I think Lommy’s going to die.”

Ah.

Gendry is the “adult” in the group and he’s definitely going through his own “Rickon in tugging on my leg” phase, and presenting Arya with a variant of an offer Dany gets from Xaro in Meereen later: Abandon this doomed, starving lot and take your chances elsewhere. Unlike Dany, Arya is not actually responsible for any of these children, not even little Weasel. Unlike Dany, she is not even close to tempted.

“I’m sick of carrying him, and I’m sick of all his talk about yielding too. If he could stand up, I’d knock his teeth in. Lommy’s no use to anyone. That crying girl’s no use either.” “You leave Weasel alone, she’s just scared and hungry is all.” Arya glanced back, but the girl was not following for once. Hot Pie must have grabbed her, like Gendry had told him. “She’s no use,” Gendry repeated stubbornly. “Her and Hot Pie and Lommy, they’re slowing us down, and they’re going to get us killed. You’re the only one of the bunch who’s good for anything. Even if you are a girl.”

I am cutting out the following super hilarious exchange around revealing her identity, along with the horrible description of the village with the gibbet and the “SS rounds up the villagers for questioning and deportation” imagery.

Gendry gets himself captured and hauled into the warehouse with the other prisoners. Arya will leave no one behind. Arya will defend her pack.

Lommy and Hot Pie almost shit themselves when she stepped out of the trees behind them. “Quiet,” she told them, putting an arm around Weasel when the little girl came running up.

Hot Pie stared at her with big eyes. “We thought you left us.” He had his shortsword in hand, the one Yoren had taken off the gold cloak. “I was scared you was a wolf.”

She has her arms around Weasel, trying to comfort the child, keeping in touch with the last of her innocence. It’s her final interaction with Weasel. They thought she was a wolf. She will be.

Hot Pie glanced at Lommy, at Arya, at Lommy again. “I’ll come,” he said reluctantly. “Lommy, you keep Weasel here.” He grabbed the little girl by the hand and pulled her close. “What if the wolves come?” “Yield,” Arya suggested.

Iconic, badass quote. Heartbreaking context. Their rescue mission is unsurprisingly doomed before it truly gets going. Hot Pie “yields” at the first instance and Arya receives a terrible blow to the head. They take Needle. They are made to lead guards to Lommy and Weasel.

The man with the torch searched around under the trees. “Are you the last? Baker Boy said there was a girl.” “She ran off when she heard you coming,” Lommy said. “You made a lot of noise.” And Arya thought, Run, Weasel, run as far as you can, run and hide and never come back.

Hide, inner child. Run and hide, like Nymeria. Like the wolf.

So that is the last we see of little Weasel.

Realistically, she will be dead within days. Exposure, poisoning, injury, starvation unless she has absorbed enough from the others to gather enough bugs for herself. Or eaten by wolves. Plus the fear, the feeling of abandonment. It’s a grim picture. It becomes unbearable when you try and picture any toddler you know in the place of Weasel.

I am going to headcanon hardcore that Baby Weasel is going to be found by loving people and taken away to safety, wrapped up warm and fed and gently raised. Alternatively, she is kindly raised by the giant wolf pack. And somehow not freezing to death. *hands over ears* Lalalalaalalalalaalalala!

We end the chapter with one more death, one that we will see avenged four books later:

“Can you walk?” He sounded concerned. “No,” said Lommy. “You got to carry me.” “Think so?” The man lifted his spear casually and drove the point through the boy’s soft throat. Lommy never even had time to yield again. He jerked once, and that was all. When the man pulled his spear loose, blood sprayed out in a dark fountain. “Carry him, he says,” he muttered, chuckling.

The echoes are beautifully done.

"Well," she said, "I don't know how you'll get there, then." "You'll need to carry me." See? thought Mercy. You know your line, and so do I. "Think so?" asked Arya, sweetly. Raff the Sweetling looked up sharply as the long thin blade came sliding from her sleeve. She slipped it through his throat beneath the chin, twisted, and ripped it back out sideways with a single smooth slash. A fine red rain followed, and in his eyes the light went out. "Valar morghulis," Arya whispered, but Raff was dead and did not hear.

(TWOW, Mercy)

On the one hand, it’s poetic justice. On the other, it screams out that Arya is basically a child concentration camp survivor but the war is not over. She has had no peace, only ever more hiding, no play, only ever more working, no recovery, only ever more killing. She is in exile, still. But she will return home. And she will one day recover. But she will never ever forget.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In Arya VI, she chooses a new name herself for the first time. The concentration camp vibes are strong. Just read the chapter.

“Some farmer’s whelp, are you? Well, never you mind, girl, you have a chance to win a higher place in this world if you work hard. If you won’t work hard, you’ll be beaten. And what do they call you?” Arya dared not say her true name, but Arry was no good either, it was a boy’s name and they could see she was no boy. “Weasel,” she said, naming the first girl she could think of. “Lommy called me Weasel.”

Lommy and Weasel. Injured and young. No use. Dead and gone but not forgotten.

Ramsey names his dogs for the girls he killed. Sansa and Jon each want to name her future children for the family they lost. Arya names herself for the women and girls she cared about. Weasel. Cat. Nymeria, Nan. Even little Beth Cassel. Her kill list is one part of her. But the list of names that truly matters is another. She takes up their cause not in a hope for a peaceful future with personal happiness like Jon and Sansa but in the here and now, within the broiling whirlwind of injustices. But the very first name is for the little girl, for herself, essentially.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In conclusion:

Little Weasel is, to me, a personification of Arya’s inner child, as she struggles with her loss of innocence and the abandonment by adults. Because she shows up when they encounter their first hardcore warcrime scene. Arya tries to ignore her wailing and pays little attention to her, but attaches her to her hopes for help from Lady Whent and her Knights. She doesn’t take charge of Weasel until their adult caretakers, such as they are, become unavailable by way of being horribly murdered in battle. She is not really equipped to care for her, but she tries and she is determined not to abandon her. When she has disappeared, Arya doesn’t despair, she wishes her well, she has some remnant of faith and she attaches it to Weasel. Off into the wild, to escape certain death, perchance to survive, like she sent off Nymeria.

It is no accident that Arya names herself Weasel when she enters the concentration camp hell that is Harrenhal, and it is a truly briliant stroke that her only direct memory of Weasel after that is when Arya enters service in the House of Black and White in AFFC, Arya II, which seems more empowering but draws up many comparisons in her mind to Harrenhal. The inner child has run off, but her spirit remains hovering over Arya, never quite fading.

#asoiaf #arya stark #weasel #war crimes #inner child #gendry waters #hot pie #lommy greenhands #yoren #ACOK

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lilith-of-rivia · 5 years ago

Text

The Whisper in the Stars

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia X Elf OC

Word count: 3,746

Warnings: Cursing, violence?

Thank you all so much for the support on my first chapter. Ive had 3 chapters posted to Wattpad since March and have had 3 likes on it It means the word the support on not only this story but all my imagines. You are all amazing humans and make my day. Much love ~Apha

The morning air was crisp on my face as Legolas and I walked threw the dim lilt woods, the sun barely peeking up in the east. The forest was calm and quiet, something I adored back home. This early morning walk threw the woods to check the snares we had set the night before reminded me so much of my younger days when I was little, and my energy was too much for my mother to handle so she would send me out with my much older brother.

"So what's your plan?" I whispered to Legolas as we walked over to the first snare and saw a rabbit in it. I walked over to the lifeless body, and gently took the piece of string off its head and slid it into the bag I had borrowed from Jaskier.

"Well, I don't really have one. I don't think there is any way to get home if were being honest. We never even knew this place excited, I doubt even Gandalf did, or he would've said something at some point about a land full of new people and creatures. Our kin, that we never knew about. I think right now, we stay on the Witcher's good side, and hope he lets us tag along with him until we can figure out where to go and live on our own." As he spoke we continued to move deeper into the forest.

"What about father?" I asked and he stopped bending down, grabbing another rabbit, handing it back to me.

"Maybe they have some form of magic that could help us contact him, but if not. He'll just have to mourn." I just nodded, knowing he was right. No matter how much it pained me to think about our father thinking we were dead and blaming himself.

"Common Apha, we have two more snares to check." He said calmly, standing up again. we walked in a calm silence to the next two snares and both were empty.

A loud snap of a twig caused both our heads to snap, the distant footsteps making my ears prickle and tingle. We quickly and as quietly as possible stood behind a tree, listing carefully as the steps got closer. Legolas looked at me, as I held my dagger tightly in. My hand, his sword tight in his own. The steps moving closer and closer. With a quick nod of the head we both swiftly moved from behind the tree, my dagger pointed out in front of me sharply, his sword behind his head.

I let out a huge sigh of relief as I saw Geralt in front of us, an amused smile on his face.

"Sorry to frighten you, princess. You were both missing thoughts one of the many monsters had claimed you." He said to me.

"We actually were just looking for food and came into some luck. Not enough but some. I'd be better if I had my bow." I said walking past him, Legolas next to me.

"I know you think we are defenseless Master Witcher, but my sister and I fought off the worst wars anyone in our home had ever seen. We traveled for about 4 months with a group of others to defeat this evil. My sister was one of the most feared women warriors of our people. You may have monsters Witcher, and you may think we need to be babysat, but just give us a chance, and we will show you how much help we could be to you and your own. But I will warn you-" Legolas had turned to completely face Geralt now, and my heart quickened, feeling the gross amount of testosterone in the air as the two Alpha males stared each other down. "You hurt, or touch a hair on my sister's head, it will be the last thing you do. Even if it kills me. She's all I have left. I will not let anything happen to her." The two men came eye to eye, Geralt's jaw was clenched and his arms folded over his chest. They were barely two feet apart. I quickly stepped in between the two, pushing Legolas back a few steps, my back to Geralt.

"I understand, my-" he waved his hand towards the camp, "whatever they are, are I all have. They are my responsibility. So I will respect you and your sister if it mutually understood that I will do whatever I have to to keep them safe." Geralt said calmly. Legolas nodded in agreement, walking back towards the camp a few feet ahead of us.

"That was the most I've ever heard you speak Witcher," I said with a small smile looking at him as we walked. He nodded softly before looking down at me.

"Its time to get you a bow, Little Elf."

***

The village was in view as we all walked towards it. Jaskier was in the back, strumming on his lute and humming soft tunes here and there. Every now and then getting a glair from Geralt for his singing. Their relationship was quite amusing to watch.

"You know we have no money. Or anything of value to trade to these people right?" I asked Geralt as we walked side by side up the road to the village.

"I helped clear a very vicious heard of werewolves that had been killing their cattle and chickens. And even a few of their kids. They-"

"Practically warship the grounds he walks on." Jaskier cut in earning an aggravated grunt from Geralt. I couldn't help but laugh softly.

"We've been on our way here for supplies, and also so I can make sure there are no new monsters causing them any troubles." I laughed softly after he finished, making him cock an eyebrow at me.

"You helped? I don't take you as a man who goes into an adventure of werewolf killing with a companion." I said with a hint of amusement. He smirked softly and looked forward.

"I guess, if you put it that way, I single-handedly took out over 4 werewolves near a full moon." I laughed freely this time and looked at him.

"I see why they worship you then," I said with a smile as we approached the village. Once we started walking down the Main Street meany people started to crowd around us. I subconsciously grabbed Ciri's hand and pulled her behind me.

"Geralt of Riviera has returned!!!" A town elder announced as they all cheered. Geralt looked beyond unamused as he just shook his head.

"What do we owe this honor?" The elder said coming and pushing past me and stranding as close as he could to Geralt.

"I have two new companions traveling with me, and they need weapons, and we're also like a place to stay for a few nights and a bath." I nodded in agreement. Manley at the bathing part. The elder turned towards Legolas and I and looked past him stretching his head like an idiot.

"I only see one companion, good sir." The elder said with a laugh.

"You looked past me," I said annoyed, my voice very monotoned. He looked at me and began laughing.

"A woman. traveling with a witcher. What are you his whore?" In an instant, my brother was on him. His hands-on wrapped around his shirt, pushing him as hard as he could into the building behind him.

"You do not speak such fallacies of my sister." He hissed in the man's face.

"My sister is a better warrior than any man you have in this village. Do not speak such dishonor on her when you haven't even given the chance to know her name." He was seething. Geralt's hand gently came and pulled him back away from the elder who was laughing obnoxiously.

"Then prove it Elf!" He yelled at me. And waved his hand, a man a few inches smaller than Legolas and Geralt stepped forward. His chest puffed out.

"This is Lennon, the best archer we have. Can hit a bullseye at 100 yards!!" The man yelled laughing loudly as some other men cheered and patted Lennon.

"I'll tell you what elf if your sister can beat him, you can have whatever two horses you'd like from our stables, and any pick from our weaponry." I chuckled lowly. Knowing this shot I could hit in my sleep.

"But, if she loses, she stays here, works in our brothel. We need a new whore." Once again Legolas lunged but was blocked by Geralt's arm. Geralt stepped out in front of me, placing himself between the elder and I.

"Even if she loses, she will be coming with me. You do not lay claim over a woman. Especially not a woman who travels with me." Geralt's voice was low and cold. The man just nodded.

"What do we get if she looses then?"

"That's the thing dear man, I don't miss." I hissed at him and he just stared in my eyes.

"Geralt can take you to the armory to pick a bow. We will all meet in the lower field in 20 minutes." The elder said and walked away the other men following. And soon the crowd had disbursed.

Geralt walked us all to the armory. I walked in and quickly my eyes landed on a hand-carved bow that reminded me of my own that I had lost on the boat wreck. I held it in my hands feeling the way the wood arched perfectly under my touch and the way the string pulled at my fingers. I hooked my fingers on the string-pulling it back to me and sighed a breath of relief.

"I hope you are all ready for a good night's sleep and a bath," I said with a smirk and glanced at Geralt who looked pleasantly amused.

We walked down to the field where the crowd was gathered. A quiver full of new arrows on my back. The man Lennon was standing in front of a large log and waiting for me. I approached him and he smirked at me.

"Lennon will shoot first." The elder said sitting in a chair as Lennon took an arrow out of his quiver and quickly cocked his arm back before releasing the arrow. If flew with a quick swoosh and shot deep into the target placed out in the field. I didn't need the judge to tell me. I could see. A perfect bullseye.

"You see elf, you filthy sister will need better than a bullseye to get her share of the deal and me-"

"I'd suggest you shut your mouth." Geralt said not even looking at him.

Lennon moved to the side and I stepped up to my mark. Taking a string from my pocket I tied my hair back loosely to keep it from my face. My hand reached behind me, my fingers grazing the feathers of the arrows until they landed on the one that spoke. My brother's training had done well for me. I pulled it from my quiver. My handheld my bow up and the cool metal of the tip of the arrow landed on my index finger, as I pulled the string back to my face. My breathing was steady. My eyes narrowing at the target. The arrow of my appoints sticking out ever so slightly. Taking a deep breath in, the arrow and string released and the arrow went flying threw the air. I watched it fly gracefully until the perfect splitting noise made my ears raise. My arrow had split his. I gracefully let my hand and bow fall to my side and turned towards the elder. I new a very cocky smirk was on my face.

"See, I told you. I do not miss. Now along with those new horses and the weaponry of my brother's choice. I'd like some new clothes. And a new pair of shoes for the children." My eyes we set in a narrow glare. The man just stood and nodded.

"Very well, you indeed have won. And I will keep to my word. You know where everything is Geralt. Unfortunately, we only have two rooms available tho. And only one has a bath." He quickly walked away, followed by most of the men. I turned around and looked to see the eyes of my fellow campaigns on me. My brother's face held pride and admiration, knowing very well he can shoot better than I but, he taught me all I know.

"Can you teach me how to do that!" Ciri cheered as she smiled brightly.

"Of course, it'll take a lot of practice and dedication tho. You have to be ready." I said with a smile.

"Shall we go bathe then," I suggested looking at Geralt who was just looking at me, his eyes boring into my own. He nodded his head softly. We walked back to the town, Ciri being the first to bathe after Geralt had filled the tub with hot water for her.

"I can show you where you can get some new clothes." He said nodding to me and Legolas, we both stood from our perch on the steps up towards the two rooms we were given. We followed behind him to a small shop, inside a small elderly lady. She smiled as we walked in and came over to me grabbing my hand and pulling me on top of a small step before she began measuring my waist and arms. Geralt and Legolas taking a seat on a small bench, both sets of arms crossing over their chests.

"You sure showed Barron. Serves him right for underestimating the power some women hold." She said with a small smile up at me as she finished her measuring.

"Thank you, ma'am. I just prefer to prove myself rather than yell." I said with a soft smile.

"I'm guessing you would prefer a few pairs of trousers instead of some dress?" I laughed softly and nodded in thanks. She walked away and to the back of the room, before entering with three pairs of black trousers and two grey shirts.

"I have a cloak that will fit well after you bathe come back and I'll give it to you along with some new nickers." She said with a soft wink making my cheeks blush softly as the two men behind her sifted uncomfortable.

"Thank you, ma'am. I really appreciate it." I took them from her and walked over to the seat next to Geralt as Legolas stood up and she measured and found him clothes.

"I truly did underestimate you, little elf." Geralt whispered making me smile as I watched the woman hand Legolas his stuff as she whispered to him.

"I told you, I'm a force to be reckoned with. I could truly become an asset to you Geralt of Rivera." I said with a smile and he hummed softly, I could see the small smile out of the corner of my eye. Legolas walked back over to us and we all left the shop, me promising to come back later. We reached the inn and I placed my stuff on the porch and sat back on the stairs watching the sun go down. The horizon being something I've never seen before. A completely new place, with new adventures and new opportunities for myself and brother.

"It's your turn to bath princess." Geralt said as he stepped out of the room, his hair damp. Everyone had bathed but me, wanting to give everyone else a chance.

"I cleaned and refilled the bath with water for you, there's a bucket of cold water by it if its to hot." He said with a smile as I stood grabbing my new clothes and looking at him.

"What are sleeping arrangements, Geralt?" Jaskier asked as he strummed on his lute.

"There are three beds in that other room," I said pointing to the room Dara and Ciri were already asleep in. The other only had a single bed.

"You should take the room with the bath Geralt," I said as I walked to the door.

"No, I don't sleep much. I definitely don't need a whole bed to myself. You take it Apha, then Legolas and Jaskier can have a bed to themselves. If I find myself needing sleep, I'll sleep on the floor." he said not taking his eyes from the sunset. I glanced and Legolas and he nodded, no doubt not wanting to share a bed with me.

"Okay if you say so, I'm going to bathe now. If any of you come in ill plant an arrow in your dick." I said before closing the door to the room and locking it.

The bath was made, I could see the steam rolling off the water, which just made my body ace more. I quickly peeled off my old smelly clothes before completely submerging myself into the steaming water. The sigh that left my mouth was near orgasmic. The water warmed every cold spot on my body and soothed every aching pain I had. There was a tiny dish next to the bath that held a small bar of soap. I wasted no time in taking it and lettering my hands before standing up. the cool air nipping at my sensitive skin making it prickle up with goosebumps. My hands wandered all over my body scrubbing every inch. Once I was satisfied I sat back down and watched as the suds and the dirt washed away. With a quick breath in I submerged my head and ran my fingers threw my hair before coming up for more air. Soon the water was a dark brown, but my hair and skin were cleaner than it had been then the day we left our homelands.

I quickly dressed in my new clothes before stepping out onto the porch, comb in hand; to see Geralt perched on the steps, looking out over into the distance. Almost as if he was waiting for something to come out of the forest.

"How was your bath, little elf." He truly liked that nickname. He didn't even look back at me as he spoke. I took a seat next to him and began combing out my hair.

"Wonderful. I don't think my muscles have felt that relaxed in a long while. I constantly feel like my body is trying to give out on me." I said with a huff as I neatly braided my hair as I watched the night stars.

"I understand that pain all too well." He said glancing at me.

"I doubt a witcher of your status has time to relax, let alone work out knots and kinks in his own back," I said with a small chuckle and he nodded.

"My shoulders been killing me awfully the past couple weeks, I can feel the knot that's formed under the bone." He said moving his right shoulder uncomfortably. I softly moved my hand and placed it on his upper arm. He flinched away and looked at me, making me roll my eyes.

"You can pretend to be a scary witcher to others, but I see threw it. Just relax. I would normally just subside the pain with my magic, but your immune. So let me work the knot out for you. As a thank you." His eyes flicked all over my face, his jaw clenched. With a small nod of his head, he turned back to the sky. I smiled softly.

"Move it the step below me," I whispered. He did as I said, my legs on either side of him.

I softly move his hair from his shoulder and gently ran my fingers down his spine and up and around his shoulder blades. I soon felt the knot under my thumb, and softly started to roll my thumb over it. Applying more pressure I could feel it moving slightly. He was so tense it was making my hands cramp. He let out a soft grunt that made my stomach spin and fills with butterflies. I closed my eyes and continued to roll my knuckles over the spot repeatedly. I could feel my hands heating as I tried my best to let the heat enter his skin in order to help destress him. But it was to no avail. I continued on the spot for a while until the knot was much smaller, and slowly stopped my movements. His head was no longer up but dropped down. His breathing was calm and steady.

"Don't stop." He grunted and I smiled softly. I stroked my hands over his back and shoulders.

"Common." I stood up holding my hand out, he looked at it hesitantly and grabbed it as he stood. I walked into the room and closed the door behind him.

"Take off your shirt and lay on the bed," I said not willing to take no for an answer. He looked at me for a second and then walked over to the bed.

I walked over to the lantern and blew it out before placing a log on the fire in the other corner of the room. Looking over at him my heartbeat quickened as he took off his shirt. His body was made by the gods themselves. He was probably one of the most beautiful creatures I had ever seen.

"You're staring, little elf." He said with a smirk.

"Yeah well, do you blame me?" I asked and he chuckled softly. The sound was melodic.

"Lay down witcher," I said and he did as I said. I move to the bed and softly straddled his hips. Placing my hands on his back. His arms went under his head and he took in a deep breath. I slowly started to kneed my hands and knuckles into every part of his back and shoulders. His body slowly relaxed under my touch. Not completely but some.

I continued my moves for a while, zoning out of my own thoughts and just watching his muscles move with my hands. His soft snores broke me out of my trance, making me smile. I gently moved from him, and grabbed the blankets and pulled them over himself and myself. I gently stroked a stray hair from his face and couldn't help but feel those butterflies fill my stomach again.

"Goodnight, Geralt," I whispered rolling over, my back to him closing my eyes.

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artoriyasart · 4 years ago

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Adventure In Stormheim Part Five: Hello Orgrimmar.

**Sylvanas story set during legion, I do not own this character but I do own the OC. This might be part of a series of adventures when Sylvanas is off on her own either heading to or coming from missions. Possible AU. This story will soon take a new turn as it leaves the broken isles. This story will take on a new title soon but im not sure, it takes a new turn for new adventures. They will probably be in Orgrimmar for awhile so the title may change to fit the new adventures.**

Summary: Sylvanas is called to Orgrimmar and takes Luthiene with her, she feels out of place at first as the culture is so different in the Horde capital. We also find out a little more of her background when Sylvanas has a talk with her.

The warmth of Orgrimmar was new to the small elf when the airship reached its destination. Luthiene liked the ride as she had never been on an airship before and loved the feel of the wind in her long red hair, her ears twitched when she heard Sylvanas speak to some of the Dark Rangers. “I am taking the girl with me, she is my responsibility.” They merely nod and depart as Sylvanas approached, “This is Orgrimmar little Ranger, it is where you will be staying for awhile if you choose to.”

Luthiene nodded, she wasn’t sure she liked this red and brown desert but she wanted to stay by the Warchief’s side. Sylvanas had taken the time to explain her role in the horde as their leader, she also explained her role as Dark Lady of the Forsaken and added, “If you stick close to me at all times, I may take you to the undercity.”

“You have alot of jobs,” Luthiene said as she packed her supplies which included, water, snacks, hunting knife and her bow and quiver.

“I do, I take them very seriously so I may not be able to spend as much time with you, you do get a chance to see some of the leaders of the horde and meet them. Please be on your best behaviour.” Sylvanas said in a tone that was more of an order than a suggestion, the little elf nodded. I wonder if there is places I can explore? She wondered to herself. She looked out at the dry looking place she would call home for awhile and sighed, “Doesnt look like there is much to do.”

“You say that now, lu lu but I am sure you will find something, I only ask you be careful and take a ranger or two with you understood?” Sylvanas had taken the girls chin into her hand gently so that her azure eyes met the banshee’s ruby gaze.

“I will...” Luthiene sounded annoyed at that, she was starting to feel like her friend was turning into a mother. She had what she considered a mother once but that was long ago.

The Banshee Queen and little ranger both exited the ship and rode to the gates of Orgrimmar, it was a large imposing gate with metal spikes that made the near thirteen year old gulp nervously. She looked to Sylvanas who nodded reassuringly, “you will be fine young one” She nudged her undead horse forward and rode into the city, it was bustling and dusty, and there was more red and brown tones. The little girl moved her horse closer to Sylvanas’s own and felt a little more at ease.

The bustle and shouting were from goblin merchants trying to sell their wares, booming tauren voices saying that some of the items were overpriced. Orcs were telling war stories while trolls tried to sell their trinkets, she also saw blood elves as they were called elegantly navigating the crowds as though in a dance, and forsaken hobbling through the streets, cursing the intense heat. The crowds did part for their Warchief and the strange Quel’dorei child riding next to her as they made their way to Grommash hold. Sylvanas helped Luthiene off her horse then ushered her inside, she could see the girl getting overwhelmed, I knew this would happen, she sighed. The girl clearly was not used to this many people in one setting, sylvanas placed two gauntletted hands on her shoulders, “you did good today, I am going to meet with the leaders today, do you think you can handle it?” She asked expecting a no but luthiene only nodded, “You are a brave and bold one I will give you that, should you feel overwhelmed squeeze my hand got it?” Another nod, “I know you can handle this.”

“Thank you, if you have time, can we go horseback riding?” She asked.

“Perhaps, if everything goes to plan. Now come, you will see how the warchief conducts her business,” Sylvanas motioned for her young friend to follow, is she a friend now? Sylvanas asked herself. Friends were not easy to come by and she barely trusted anyone but Luthiene was an innocent girl who was lonely and looked up to her, her opinions and views were not shaped by horde or alliance. She likes me anyway, I guess I do have a friend in her. Sylvanas felt a pain in her chest and made sure the child did not see her wince.

Luthiene took Sylvanas’s hand and looked into the older woman’s eyes, so trusting...naive...innocent...this made the Warchief want to protect the girl with all she had even if she did not openly express it.

The two elves entered the room where the different racial leaders waited; Lor’themar Theron, Lady Liadrin, Baine Bloodhoof, Varok Saurfang, Gallywix, Rokhan, and Ji Firepaw. They all awaited her to sit and start the meeting, “this is my little assistant, Luthiene, she wanted to see how things are run,” Sylvanas explained. They all nodded and at once Lady Liadrin spoke up, “Warchief, I wanted to update you on the growing situation in Suramar, there seems to be a rebel faction within that will work with us, we just have to help them liberate Suramar.”

Sylvanas nodded, “these nightborne? What are they like? I hear they have a wealth of arcane knowledge.”

“They do, if we help them out, maybe they can become our allies,” the Blood Knight Matriarch suggested.

“They would be a great boon in our fight against the Legion, work on this, I will send what rangers I have see that you offer any support you can.” Sylvanas thought of the farstriders, her dark rangers, and the blood knights, yes they could be useful allies, “Help them in anyway you can.”

“Yes, Warchief, it will be done,” Lady Liadrin’s dedication to the horde and the Sin’dorei was admirable, Sylvanas also liked her straight to the point, no nonsense attitude.

Baine then spoke up, “the Highmountain Tauren could be of some use as well, they are strong and know the surrounding area well, however my scouts report they are embroiled in some conflicts that might be legion influenced, with your permission I would like to send aid to them.”

“Their strength would be a useful arrow to my quiver, you have my permission. Should they choose to ally with us, let me know,” Sylvanas’s authoritative voice was more of an order again than a request.

“Thank you Warchief, I will set out for the broken isles when the next sun rises,” the high chieftain saluted her dutifully and waited for anyone else to speak up. When no one did they were all dismissed, as they filed out they caught a glimpse of the girl squeezing the Warchief’s hand, clearly she was feeling a little overwhelmed by all of this.

“Seems the warchief made a new friend,” Saurfang observed.

“Where did she find that child?” Baine asked inquisitively.

“I wonder if her parents know whos she's with,” Lor’themar said warily, he did notice the girl seemed relaxed in Sylvanas’s presence.

“I think if the warchief wants us to know she would tell us,” Lady Liadrin said hinting that they should stop their gossip and do their duties as assigned.

Sylvanas waited til they were all gone and pulled luthiene in her lap, “wasn’t so bad was it?”

Luthiene did not answer instead she buried her head into Sylvanas’s shoulder and cried.

“What is wrong?” the concern was now evident in the banshee’s eyes.

“I feel alone here, its so big and...lo-lots of people...” she said between sobs.

“You are not alone, you are with me, you are safe child. I understand it must be daunting, I have seen you handle worse...why don't we go ride horses, Azshara lies north of here, trees, hills, an ocean...sadly there is also naga but I think you can handle it.” Sylvanas rubbed the girl’s back and kept a low tone, she should have known such a culture shock would affect even the strong heart of her little ranger.

“I haven't felt this safe since...” luthiene grew quiet for a moment, she didn’t know if she should divulge yet.

“You can tell me, I will not tell anyone, I promise,” Sylvanas wanted to know more than anything about this girl’s background and what she was doing in Stormheim of all places.

“I won’t tell you everything yet, only that I had caretakers my real parents are dead, they found me and looked after me for awhile but..then those demon things came and killed them.” Luthiene explained a little but not too much, she wasn’t ready to reveal what she could remember, she had been told of her heritage and what her parents were trying to escape, they also told her of the scourge invasion but bits and pieces were missing.

“Fair enough, I will not pry further, now come on, lets get our horses,” Sylvanas wiped the tears from her eyes and lead her to the stables, the girls first day in Orgrimmar was sure eventful.

To be continued.

#Sylvanas Windrunner #The Dark lady and her companion #warcraft fanfic #OC

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tubbyliltuna · 5 years ago

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.The more you learn, the less you know // the hobbit x dragonborn. (1/?)

This here is a story, a rough, horrible, piece of work that needs to be shredded. But I cannot get the idea of a Dragonborn in middle earth out of my head. I can’t, so I’m doing this. It needs work, improvement, lots of work and improvement, but I’m getting this out of my head. Thx.

It’s really long, because i’m a horrible hoe for details and such. Also, Hermaeus is in this, and he does talk, but just remember it’s a slow talk. But he is my favorite Daedric prince, ngl.

Warning: self-hate, PTSD, the usual stuff a person would suffer from what I’m sure we all put our Dragonborn through while playing Skyrim.

Description: It was all suppose to be over - she had sealed all her deals, repaid all her debts, returned all of her favors no matter how dark. Her days of adventuring and dragon slaying were finished. Unfortunately, even after both wars, peace was never to be found in Skyrim. Not with a prince who forever craved knowledge of the unknown, and who a better scavenger than the Dovahkiin herself?

❤️

Chapter One: Radioactive.

It always snowed. It always stormed. The sun never shone through the grey clouds that drowned out the sky like a thick, dirty ocean, except for today it seemed. It was incredibly depressing, though she preferred to stick around this dreadful town. Why? Perhaps because it wasn't the only one practically in ruins these days, and as she bent down to gently run her fingers over a fresh print – a subtle warmth radiating off it – in the deep snow, she hummed in her chest at the thought. They still hadn't cleaned up the wreckage after that civil war. It was also the only place she seemed to really find peace among the world. She cared not for bustling cities, or large crowds, or loud atmosphere's, no, unless she was called to one on duty (not that it would ever happen again. It had been quiet the while since she had been summoned anywhere). Standing back up, she reached her arm to her back and plucked an arrow from her quiver, her pale blue eyes like a bolt of thunder trailed over the tip of the small spear, and the topaz colored glass glistening like a gem in the morning rays that poured through the thinning pine trees. The area was good for hunting, and that was how she spent her time. The forest may have been blanketed in snow ninety percent of the time, but it was still busy with life – new and old – and a variety of fruits even if they were mostly berries, nuts, and ingredients. Speaking of berries, she caught the color of blood peaking from the corner of her eye, and a smirk came over her face as she would remember the path she walked to come back later, but as of now, as her feet sank into the white land with a soft crunch, she continued onwards, gripping loosely to her bow and arrow. She was on a mission. A delicate one.

A snort, a gentle and calming noise came from her side and she stopped, turning her head very slowly, a few flakes of built up snow dropped from her hood, and she saw her prey; a beautiful a healthy Buck, it's rack at least 8 points high. Not only could she get a good amount of stock from it, but she could get a fair price for its head on a mantle. Not that money was a matter, more like a pass-time. She was quiet the collector; gems, ancient weapons, armor, you name it. Settling down further in her spot, she watched with narrowed eyes as the animal's ears twitched backwards, obviously hearing a sound it didn't like and its head shot up, causing her breath to halt and it felt as though everything around her stopped. No, her life didn't depend on this, not at all, but she had her reasons that this was so important to her. Waiting, listening to the sound of her strong heart pounding in her ears, she was so still with her eyes wide that she could almost feel the mixed blood in her veins flow and pump along with her heart, making her whole body feel as though it was shaking. It felt like an hour that she sat with small diamonds glittering down from the sky, and the feel of the warm sun beating down onto her black clothing making her sweat, but it had only been a few seconds, and she heard the majestic animal chewing again. Perhaps it was a good thing she was part Wood Elf, or she would have had to train harder to hear such things. Put into action once more, she quietly docked her bow, and took her shot – a flash of topaz crossed the woods, the sound of the small but deadly shaft buzzing past each tree, and the buck and birds screaming as the beast fell to the forest floor with an encouraging noise.

With a smile, she stood, though she felt guilty as it laid on the ground writhing in pain, crying out for help from its kin or the like. So, with a faster pace, she pulled out a small blackened and worn dagger from her thigh and struck the beast down, silencing it and sending its peaceful soul back home. Sheathing her dagger, she let her hands fall to her side for only a moment, letting the sounds of the forest flow through her pointed ears. Sometimes it was strange to her how things to could go back to moving as though nothing had ever happened, even with the fact a woodland creature had just been slaughtered in front of any surrounding animal's eyes. The circle of life was cruel thing. Reaching down and wrapping her gloves hand around the plush neck of the lifeless corpse, she slowly lifted it up with an inhuman strength, the muscles in her arm rippling and shaking, straining to hold the dead weight in the air before her. She tilted the head to one side, then to the other, examining it with guilty eyes. But it was all for a good reason. "Fear not – you did not die in vain, Beast," she murmured, crouching down slightly and maneuvering so it rested across the span of her back and over her shoulder, and she stood up as straight as she could with a grunt. It would be an agonizing trek, but her destination was not too far from her location.

Beginning her walk, she clutched onto the carcass with a tight grip, dodging trees, roots and, various plants as she slowly walked back down-hill. The tri-blood knew she didn't have to make this journey alone, she could have easily bought a companion with her, but that would defeat the purpose of her 'get-away plan' or her 'vacation' as her apprentice prefers to call it. The poor boy never understood why she felt the need to get away; Winterhold was not even big enough to consider a town (though the boy barely called it a village himself), and the College barely had any activities or anyone new coming. He was a good man, she couldn't deny, Onmund had helped through several things and even when she was a student, she remembered how he fought along-side of her when she needed it. Even now, he had pledged to her, especially the few times she had saved his life when he was reckless with their travels. The young mage had seen things he would never forget, and his blood pumped for adventure like a true Nord, but that was not her… not much anymore. The same could not be said for Tolfdir, unfortunately, as talented as her Master Wizard was, the older man wanted absolutely nothing to do with their childish ways and preferred to stay at the College and keep a watch over the students, the professors and, the town. Though, like the younger Nord, he understood what the tri-blood had been through and the inability to stay settled in one place for too long (even though there had been several times Tolfdir had mumbled under his breath that if he had traveled all over Skyrim and back he would prefer to sleep for a year and never set a foot outside his door unless it was for stock and food, something to which she would always laugh at), but in the end he would touch her shoulder and giver her his blessing, telling her to come back in one piece for several reasons; he was too old to handle the college as Arch Mage, he would miss her far too much, and he certainly didn't want Onmund in charge (the poor boy would always get flustered and defensive at that).

Wrapped up in her thoughts, she realized she had finally arrived at the steps leading up the hill to her small cabin. It was a homey little place, just enough space to live comfortable and keep everything she needed, unlike her quarters at the college that contained … well, all her belongings; her armors, her gems, her books, her weapons, and her … special artifacts. Trekking up the stairs, she stopped dead at the door, squinting her eyes at the sound of multiple thuds inside of the small house. There seemed to be a pause before each one, followed by a disgusted grumble. Looking side-to-side and once behind her, she unsheathed her dagger and gripped It in her hand before kicking the door open. It must have been a sight to see to whoever was in there because they let out a painful noise, followed by the sound of several things hitting the floor; a woman cloaked in all black, a large Beast on her back and a powerful dagger in her hand, and the blinding sunlight flooding the main room. Moving quickly into the room, she shut the door and dropped the Beast. The sound of its skull sent a terrifying crack throughout the room, but before she could act, the dagger was slapped from her hand and thrown into the fire as her vision – no, the room filled with multiple black spots and – "One, I find it absolutely astonishing and quiet offensive you would use a Daedric blade in defense against me, and two … " the monotone voice drug out before it completely cut off, and bright blue eyes bet a single burning yellow one, that of a cat or Kahjit. "Venison, again, Dovahkiin? And here I thought the warrior of the world would at least know a thing or two about a… healthy diet," the voice almost mused, although one who did not know better would guess he did not care at all about the conversation. "Or did that part of yourself die away along with Verulus? Hmmm….?"

To anyone else, it should have seemed strange – scratch that, terrifying, disgusting, revolting, and the list could go on in the Dragonborns mind, to see nothing but a black mass of shadows in the air as though it were stretching across the wall, pale-green tentacles crawling and slithering out and circling around nothing but a large golden eye with a slit pupil. Do not get her wrong, every time she simply laid eyes on Hermaeus, she had to continuously tell herself not to vomit all over a Daedric prince. That would surely end her life into an eternity of being hunted by Hericine himself, or even worse… living her life in Hermaeus Mora's library taking care of his damned books. But aside all of that, the blue-eyed female sighed, turning around to her kill once more, so easily turning her back to one of the most dangerous entity's to ever exist in all Tamriel. "That was once," she mumbled, lifting her catch in both arms with a grunt to throw it up onto the clearing on her wooden table. "I no longer have the ring in my possession anyhow." the tri-blood huffed out, slowly running her hands over the hardening fur on the dead animal, almost as though she were petting it. It calmed her somehow. Maybe she should get a pet…

"It's under your bed, actually. "

She froze, the muscles under her eyes twitching slightly in annoyance at her visitor. Honestly, out of all the dark Princes and Princesses that she had met in her life-time, or the one that seemed to be most interested by her had to be him. Why couldn't it have been someone like Clavicus that was mildly interesting, or Sheogorath the mad who tended to make her laugh, or Vaermina who would want nothing to even do with her after the whole 'skull' incident. No, she got the walking dictionary of all Tamriel, and Divines knows where else. Sighing, she grit her teeth together in annoyance and gripped onto the wooden table a little tighter. "What, do, you, want?" she bit out, holding her tongue from telling him exactly how she felt about him.

It was almost immediately that she felt something slimy and wet slap across the back of her head, and the brunette had to hold back her gag reflexes. "Speak to me in such tone – hold your tongue, Dovahkiin!" the voice seemed almost stern that time, like talking to a child who was stepping over a line that their parent drew. "Or do you forget who so graciously helped you survive Miraak? Or are you already forgetting things in your old age? Interesting, really, the minds of you humans… how important and fragile your brains are…" Then he tapped, the very tip of his tendril poking her temple, and it sent a large shiver down her spine, goosebumps breaking out over her paled skin.

Akatosh, Talos, Divines, help her.

The Dragonborn sighed deeply. "Not that you did it out of the kindness of your heart, because I'm more than sure you don't actually have one – "

"I'm summoning you on a favor," He cut her off immediately, looking over his tendril like he had hands, fingers, and nails he was observing like some high-and-mighty Jarl who was getting bored with the whole situation. She wouldn't doubt if he was, cutting straight to the point like he did. Not many of these Daedric beings enjoyed beating around the bush. A lot of them cut straight to the point, and while she could appreciate that, sometimes these bastards could just be rude-

Wait, what? Favor? A favor!?

Something inside of her snapped, or was it the table seeing as she held a piece of ragged wood in her hand, turning around to face the dazed-off Prince. "What favor!?" she shouted, her voice rumbling in question and the ugly eye slid from the small mountain of books her had created over to her. "I already did your favor back in Solstheim. You murdered it – him, remember?"

If Hermaeus had both eyes, he probably would have rolled them, but no, instead he rolled all of them, even the small ones doting the black mass and it was the second most disgusting thing the Dragonborn had ever watched. "Of course, I remember. He was very useful."

"Then your trip was wasted," she growled, her chest rumbling like thunder. It never failed to sicken her at how easily these beings could murder someone for their own selfish reasons, but what right did she have to act all righteous about it? How many times had she killed simply to live? To make money? Or perhaps even for nothing when she had simply gotten an order? The war… all the men and women she slaughtered in the name of Ulfric Stormcloak and a free Skyrim. Two things she wanted to damn away for so long. Damn the Nords, damn the Thalmor, the legion, all the gods – Daedric or not. Sometimes she hated them all, and it was almost in those times she could understand why Alduin wanted to rid this world of every race except for their own and Akatosh, or enslave the mortals that would serve him. But then, she remembered her friends; the Companions, the College, the Blades, the Thieves Guild, even some of her brother and sisters in armor that battled beside her, and she remembered why she fought for this world. Everything deserved a second chance. Though sometimes she thought the world would never change, no matter what she had done for it. It wasn't that she wanted everyone to know of her good deeds… it was just, she wanted them to realize what could have been and that they need to… well, change.

"You fail to understand, Dovahkiin," came a horrendous whisper that chilled her to the bones, and the fire in her hearth flickered fiercely before dying, and her world was cast into shadows. The only thing she could see was a golden eye staring her down, the iris shimmering in the faint sunlight like a pool of melted gold. Had it been anything else before her, it would have entranced her, drawing her in, but a raging fire burned inside the pit of her stomach and it grew ever more, lapping at her immortal heart. Her icy eyes screamed death, and held no fear as the sound of metal clicked against metal, her long sword unsheathing. The cold steel glimmered in the scarce light from her windows as the tip pointed only inches from his eye. She couldn't kill the bastard, but dammit, she could send the old fool back his library in Oblivion. "It wasn't a choice."

"Fid zey zek wah Sovngarde, Sivaas." (Send me back to Sovngarde, Beast.)

She couldn't really die anyway.

#The hobbit #hobbit #hobbit x dragonborn #hobbit x skyrim #hobbit Dragonborn cross over #bilbo x reader #thorin x reader #fili x reader #kili x reader #bilbo x dragonborn #thorin x dragonborn #fili x dragonborn #kili x dragonborn #the hobbit x reader #hobbit x reader #the company x reader #the company x dragonborn

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themadlostgirl · 5 years ago

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Falling Forever

*A little late but still fluffy and sweet*

Prompt: Felix hates Y/N for no reason but she cute and clumsy so he has no choice but to fall in love

Requested by: anon

Warnings: language

---

Felix liked to think that Neverland was a perfect place for rowdy boys in want of adventure. It was. It was a real rough and tumble, dirt between your toes, kinda place. It could also chew you up and spit you out if you were weak.

So when a girl had been brought to the island one evening Felix didn’t think much of her. Her name was Y/N. She was kind of meek and got startled by sudden noises far too easily. He hadn’t even said anything to her and he was annoyed by her. When she tripped and almost set the entire camp on fire is when Felix tried to talk Pan into getting her out of there.

Pan refused for some insane reason. He claimed it was fun with her around. She kept things spontaneous with her trip ups. Felix believed there was a fine line between being fun and being a hazard to everyone else just by existing!

As time went on she stopped being so clumsy to the point where she wasn’t almost accidentally maiming people with her two left feet. Didn’t stop her from being so annoying though. How was she annoying? What had she done that made Felix hate her so much? He couldn’t really say.

In truth she just had this way of rubbing him the wrong way. Ever since day one of her time on Neverland she was just that person Felix couldn’t stand to be around. Everyone knew it and seeing as how Felix could kick even Pan’s butt (when he wasn’t using magic) no one was going to push for a more specific reason.

It wasn’t like Y/N had ever approached him either. Having a resting murder scowl helped keep people at a distance.

That was until the night she fell on him.

It was a standard night as evenings in Neverland go. Bonfire, Lost Boys dancing, sounds of the drums intermingled with the noises of the jungle. Felix was standing a part from the group lost in thought when someone crashed into him.

“Watch it!” he snapped.

Down in his arms was Y/N. She looked up at him with a shy smile and straightened herself up. “Sorry, I was dancing and got dizzy. I didn’t mean to run into you.”

Was this the first time she’d spoken to him? Felix couldn’t remember.

“It’s okay,” He stepped away from her, “Just watch where you’re going next time.”

Felix stalked off into the jungle to clear his head. Had she always had such a nice smile? It was just so wide and warm it pulled you in with no effort.

No! She was not going to suck him in with a cute smile! Having a physically pleasing face did not erase that she was a clumsy annoying girl. Nope!

But little did Felix realize was that that one incident of her falling into him was the first domino to topple into the eventual avalanche that was the melting of his brain.

The boys were racing through the jungle. Loser had to hunt dinner. At first Felix was in the lead. Lengthy legs helped a lot in these instances. All was well until someone crossed his path. Y/N didn’t have time to jump out of the way before Felix ran full force into her and they both fell to the ground. The other boys pounded past them to the finish line leaving Felix crouched in the dirt and stuck with dinner duty.

“Oh come on!” Felix shouted after them, “I was doing fine until she stepped in!”

“You still have to hunt down dinner. Have fun!” The others walked away.

“Um...Felix?” Y/N asked from the ground, “Do you mind getting off of me?”

His eyes blew wide as he realized he was basically straddling her and scrambled away. He tried to hide his face so she wouldn’t see the mad blush rising on his cheeks.

“Hey,” Y/N sat up and scooted closer to where he had retreated, “I’m sorry about costing you the race. I didn’t know you guys were running and I just have the worst luck it seems.”

“Mm,” Felix didn’t want to talk to her.

“If you’d like I’ll go hunting with you. I know I’m not much of a hunter but I’m really good at tracking.” she offered, “Besides, it’d be nice having someone else around. Right?”

Felix grunted in response. He wished she’d just leave him alone.

“Come on grumpy pants,” she flicked the back of his head, “It’ll only take longer if you stay sat on the ground pouting.”

He looked back at her in disbelief. She flashed him that same sweet smile and held out a hand. “Forgiven?”

“Sure,” He took her hand and helped her to her feet, “You also have to skin it when we get it.”

“Hey, I offered to help track it as a favor for making you lose the race. Isn’t that enough?” she crossed her arms and stuck out her lip. She was trying to look made but it just came across as adorable.

Not that he thinks adorable in an attractive way! Adorable like a harmless garden snake hissing at you. You know it isn’t going to do anything so it acting intimidating isn’t scary in the least.

Felix grabbed a bow and quiver of arrows from the camp and set out to hunt for supper with Y/N on his heels. Turns out Y/N wasn’t lying when she said she could track well. It didn’t take long at all for them to find a boar big enough to feed the entire camp.

Felix notched an arrow and aimed it carefully. One clean shot and--

“Achoo!”

The boar ran away.

“Sorry,” Y/N wiped her nose, “I tried to hold it in.”

Felix was going to pop a blood vessel and it was going to be her fault. He knew if he said anything he would end up screaming so swallowed back his anger and followed the direction the boar went.

It took about another hour to creep up on the boar again without it catching their scent and running off. Felix made the shot this time right through its eye.

Y/N had kept following to help track but outside of stating which way the boar had gone she was quiet. Maybe he had been a little too cold to her earlier. It wasn’t like she had sneezed on purpose.

He let the thought drift away as he focused on picking up the dead boar and slinging it over his shoulders. They started to head back to camp.

“Felix,” Y/N tugged on his sleeve, “I am sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” he muttered and kept walking.

“It’s just...I know you don’t like me. I can’t for the life of me figure out why but that’s okay. Not everyone has to like you and in some cases no matter what you do someone may never like you. That’s just how life goes.” she shrugged, “Sorry for messing things up. I’ll be sure to stay out of your way from now on. I promise.”

Felix stopped dead. What was this? Guilt? Disgusting.

He risked a glance down at her and winced. She was staring up at him with those big shining eyes and watery smile that was barely holding back her real feelings.

“Y/N--”

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me. Let’s just get back to camp.” she forged on ahead of him.

Watching her walk away from him sparked a pang in his chest. Why did seeing her look so broken affect him like this? He shouldn’t care if she’s being emotional. She’s annoying and a danger to herself and others and had a cute smile and a contagious laugh and she felt so warm--

Oh...oh no…

He likes her.

He likes her a lot.

When did that happen? Why did that happen? This was not good for a lot of reasons but the worst at the moment was that Y/N thought he hated her. Which up until thirty seconds ago he thought he did but now...oh gods he was in for it now.

The walk back to camp gave him time to think. He had three options. Number one was to crush all his feelings into a hole to wither and die so that no one knew the truth and hopefully one day he’d stop liking her altogether. Number two was to take her aside and have an open and honest conversation about his feelings. Number three was to walk into the mermaid lagoon and let the scaly monsters drown him.

So far number three was looking like the most inviting.

He got back to camp and looked for a good place to set the boar down. “Over here,” Y/N waved him over to where she was sitting, “I’ll skin it.”

“You already helped hunt it.”

“But I scared it off too. It’s fine.” she shrugged.

Not wanting to fight her he set the animal down and watched as she started to strip the pelt from flesh. She was rather good at it. Tracking, skinning, what other talents was she hiding?

“Ow!” she hissed and dropped her knife. There was a long slice across her palm. “That’s not good.”

“What happened?” Felix asked as he reached for her hand. “You’re supposed to skin the boar not yourself.”

“Knife slipped. Cutting yourself with a bloody boar knife isn’t exactly sanitary is it?” she tugged her hand back to herself, “Just my rotten luck acting up again.”

“Well, let’s get it clean.” He pulled out his canteen and poured the water over the cut.

“Felix!” She tried to yank her hand away again, “That hurts!”

“It’ll hurt more if it gets infected, idiot!” he snapped and grabbed his handkerchief and started to wrap it around her palm. “That should do for now.”

“Thanks,” she cradled her hand to her chest, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Helping you not bleed all over our dinner is ‘so nice?’” he raised an eyebrow at her.

“Right, of course it isn’t,” her face pinched and she picked up the knife again and began hacking at the animal across her knees with much more reckless abandon.

“You’re going to hurt yourself again.”

“Just me being clumsy as I always am,” she ripped the pelt off with her bare hands. “I can’t do anything without cocking it up. I trip when I walk, sneeze when I’m supposed to be quiet, get lost on the same path I’ve walked a hundred times. I’m a right mess and I know I annoy the boys because of it. You included which is why I’ve tried keeping my distance.”

“Are you scared of me?”

“A little. You’re always scowling at me and I hear you griping about me all the time. I thought it safer to not get too close.”

“Why offer to come hunting with me then if you were so scared?”

“I thought maybe it would smooth things over. I didn’t want to give you more of a reason to dislike me.”

Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!

Why are you acting like an asshole to the cute girl? Felix chastised himself. Fix this! Fix this now!

“Y/N, I don’t dislike you.”

“Sure you don’t,” she shook her hand out. The cut was still bothering her.

“Give me that,” he took the knife from her and pulled the carcass across his lap. “Rest your hand.”

She watched him work in silence for a minute before scooting closer. “So…” she drummed her fingers against her knees, “If you don’t hate me then what is your deal?”

A little fire behind that sweet face.

“Okay, if we are going for total honesty here I will admit that in the beginning I really hated you. I didn’t have much of a reason. Practically none at all so I avoided you. Then you fell into me while you were dancing and I started thinking differently. While we were hunting I kind of realized that I um...I…”

They stared at one another for a long moment.

“Please finish that sentence before I break down completely.” She ground out.

“Sorry! Sorry, I just--” he twisted the knife around in his hands, “I’m not good at this. You’re really cute and kind and I’ve been a huge dick for no reason. Now I figure out I’ve basically had a crush on you the entire time but my stupid brain couldn’t put two and two together to the point I scared you off. Now I’m sure I’ve just freaked you out more by confessing all of this at once but I can’t stop talking now and I really should before you think I’m crazier than I already am and--”

“Felix!” she held his hand, “You think I’m cute?”

His face started to burn anew. “Yes.”

She smiled at him and he blushed brighter. “You look pretty cute too when you’re not glaring at everything.”

He took a deep breath and slowly interlaced their fingers together. “Do you wanna--”

“Hey lovebirds,” one of the boys shouted at them, “Care to stop canoodling for five seconds and finish skinning dinner? The rest of us are starving.”

“If you’re so damn hungry, John, finish it yourself.” Felix chucked the knife at his head. John ducked out of the way just in time.

Felix pushed the half skinned boar off his lap and pulled Y/N to her feet. They rushed away from the camp. They got to the beach and Y/N’s famous imbalance came back to haunt them as she fell over and took Felix with her.

“Oops. Sorry.” She laughed as she righted herself. She was sprawled across him panting heavily and smiling wide.

“Do not apologize.” he brushed a lock of hair away from her face, “My clumsy girl.”

“Your clumsy girl?” she scoffed. “Does that mean I get to call you my frowny boy?”

He rolled them over so they were laying side by side. “You can call me whatever you like, clumsy girl.”

#felix imagine #felix x reader #ouat #neverland #request #peter pan ouat

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