#traces of them all across universes and timelines and the threads that keep pulling them together oh

[franeridan]

auuurrghhhhhhhhhhhhhrrrrhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaakkkkkkkkggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[thebrotherssalvatore321]

Keeping Secrets Ch. 51

Keeping Secrets Masterlist

A/N: According to the TVD universe timeline I’ve been using, Hayley was pregnant with Hope for like, a year and a half or some crazy crap. So just so you guys know in this story, Baby M. was conceived in late March, putting Katie’s due date in late December or early January.

Late October (The day after Rebekah left)

Katie, sleeping with her back to Klaus’s chest, was woken up by the feel of him slipping his fingertips lightly up her bare arm, skipping over the strap of her pajama top as he moved them over her shoulder and across her chest. Curious about what he’d do next she kept her eyes closed, pretending to still be asleep. He traced back over his previous path then down her side and over her thigh that he gently gripped. The touch sent a tingle throughout her body, but she tried her best to hide her reaction.

Since that didn’t wake her he slowly moved his hand up and under her pajama shorts and she almost had to bite her lip to hide her reaction to his teasing. He knew she was awake, not from her relaxed face or slow even breathing, but from the beat of her heart, that skipped at his tempting touches. With his hand now on her hip he pulled her closer then went back to lightly slipping his fingertips over her smooth exposed skin. When he moved his hand back to her chest and pressed his palm to it, his fingertips touching the hollow of her neck, her heart skipped again and he couldn’t hold back his chuckle. “You are an amazing actress, Little Phoenix, but the beating of your heart betrays you.”

She smiled, but didn’t open her eyes. “I’ll work in it.”

“Why do you attempt to fool me?” he asked, letting his eyes skim her face.

“Because I’m afraid if I open my eyes you’ll stop touching me like that.” she answered then opened her eyes to see him studying her face. “I missed you.” he placed the backs of his fingers on her cheek and stroked it with his thumb. “When those witches took you I…” she narrowed her eyes and shook her head, “I hated not being able to help you, not knowing where you were or what they were doing to you. How did they manage to take you down anyway?”

“While Elijah was saving you from that burning house, Sophie Deveraux stabbed me with Papa Tunde’s blade. I passed out and woke up in the sanatorium.” He answered then dropped his hand to rest on the side of her neck.

“Well, the next time I see her I’m going to bust one of Bonnie’s magic muting bombs in her face and break her neck.” Katie said through gritted teeth.

“I would pay to see that, Little Phoenix, however someone beat you to the punch.” He told her getting a curious look from her. “Sophie is dead, Elijah didn’t tell you?” he asked and she shook her head no.

“So what happened to you, at the sanatorium?” Katie asked, getting back on topic.

“Genevieve shackled me to a chair, took the blade out, kept me weak and linked my mind to Rebekah’s. While we were linked Genevieve forced Rebekah to take a walk down memory lane revealing her betrayal.” he answered.

“Why? What did Genevieve get out of it?” Katie asked with a frown.

“Revenge against Rebekah.” Klaus answered.

Katie gave him a confused shake of her head. “I know Rebekah used her to bring your father here, but that doesn’t seem reason enough to completely wreck someone’s family.”

“When Genevieve found out exactly who she brought to town and that Mikael would kill me she threatened to come to me and beg for forgiveness for what she had unknowingly done. Rebekah could not let that happen, so she infected Genevieve and her nosey little friend with Spanish influenza and had them locked in quarantine until they died.”

“Do you happen to know the name of the friend?” Katie asked curiously.

“Clara I think.” He answered, “Why?”

“Things are making so much more sense now.” Katie said with a look around and a shake of her head. “In 1919 Celeste was using Clara’s body. Both Celeste and Genevieve were victims of Mikaelson mistakes and Bastianna went along with everything because she was mad at Father K. and Marcel for screwing up the harvest ritual.”

To change the subject Klaus slipped his hand over her growing stomach and asked, “How is our little princess?”

“I haven’t felt her move in a while. I’m worried.” Katie admitted as she slipped her hand over his and looked down at her dark blue pajama tank top covered stomach.

“Her heartbeat is as strong as ever.” He told her as he brushed his thumb back and forth over her stomach. “We can find a doctor in town to take you to if you need more reassurance.”

She was about to take him up on the offer when the baby kicked hard, making their hands move. “Nope, I think I know what the problem was.” Katie told him as she gave his shoulder a push then moved to straddle him.

“Yeah?” he asked, placing his hands on her hips as she settled into his lap.

“She, like her mother, simply missed you.” She was about to lean in and kiss him when her phone on the bedside table chimed so she leaned over and grabbed it.

“If that is Nate I’m going to get jealous.” He told her with a bit of a smirk.

“It’s Hayley.” She replied as she opened the text. “Did you know the crescent wolves have been cursed to only be human on the full moon?” she asked and he shook his head no. “Elijah told me about it and Hayley came to me the day before yesterday asking for information in exchange for helping keep the peace between us and the wolves. Turns out Celeste cursed them while hopping a ride in a Deveraux witch’s body.” Klaus slipped his hands up her sides as she read the text, going back to caressing her like he had been before they started talking. “According to this message Hayley got to Celeste before Elijah killed her and got what she needed to cure her people.” Katie texted back, “Awesome.” and a smiley face emoji then put her phone away. “On the subject of Nate, who’s not gay just so you know,” Klaus gave her an I-knew-it look. “Oh don’t look at me like that. Straight or not he’s not interested in me like that. Besides, I doubt I’ll be talking to him anytime soon considering he’s been banished from the quarter. It seems it’s not meant for me to have friends here.”

“Why not get Bonnie to make a daylight ring for Josh?” Klaus asked. “He’s completely loyal to Marcel and you’ve expressed the desire for his friendship in the past.”

“Bonnie doesn’t make those rings for just anyone. She didn’t even want to make one for me, but Damon and Elena talked her into it and I had to promise that I wouldn’t feed on people before I could have it.” she said with a shake of her head. “And I kept that promise up until I stopped clinging so tightly to a relationship that was doomed from the beginning.”

“So that’s why your compulsion sucked when we first met.” He said with a small smile at the memory of the guy that Klaus almost killed at homecoming.

“Pretty much.” She nodded. “And after getting compelled by Elijah I have to wonder if all compulsion feels that invasive and violating or just what he compelled me to do.”

“You’re livid with him for that, aren't you?” he asked, seeing a spark in her eyes.

“Livid is an understatement.” she answered with a nod as she dropped her eyes to his shirt covered chest. “That slap was not satisfying enough.” She looked into his eyes. “I’m guessing you’re mad at him for defending Rebekah.”

“As well as a plethora of other things.” He replied then slipped his hand over her cheek and pulled her down for a slow, sweet kiss. “Less discussion.” He whispered then started kissing his way to her neck, pulling a sigh from her when he grazed his teeth over the sensitive skin. “Show me how much you missed me.” he whispered then kissed her earlobe as he threaded his fingers through her long, wavy auburn locks at the nape of her neck. She pulled back and looked him in the eyes as she grabbed the hem of the grey wife beater he’d worn to sleep and pulled it over his head. His hands settled on her sides as she tossed the shirt aside then turned her eyes to his torso, slipping her fingertips over his shoulders, his collarbones, down his chest, over his perfectly toned abs and around to hold his sides. She leaned forward and kissed his chest slowly working her way up to his neck where she nibbled, pulling a sigh from him as his hands lightly squeezed her hips.

She kissed just below his ear before she whispered, “Tá tú gan locht.” “You are perfect.” Her words, spoken seductively in her native tongue, made a toe curling groan slip from his lips and he wanted to take her right then, but after two nights without her, he wanted to make the moment last. So she kissed down to his chest, "tá tú dathúil." "You are handsome." she kissed over to one of his nipples and swirled her tongue around it making him sigh and back to the nape of her neck, his fingers tangled in her hair. "Tá tú blasta..." "You are delicious..." she pulled back and looked into his lust veiled eyes, “and...Kingdom or no kingdom…'' She moved to sit on her knees beside him, "village or no village," removed the blankets from his lap then slipped her fingertips up his inner thigh stopping at the line of his boxers then leaned up and caught his lips in a kiss that quickly heated up. When it finally broke she opened her eyes, her bright greens meeting his steel blues, "beidh tú i mo rí go deo." "you will forever be my king."

A gasp left his lips as he whooshed to his knees, one hand still on the back of her neck and the other pressed to her lower back, holding her as close to him as her belly would allow. Her hands pressed into his back as he caught her lips with his. Every ounce of passion, how much what she said meant to him washing over her like a tidal wave. As his tongue found hers her hands slipped down to his lower back, lightly scratching him as she moved her hands to hold his sides, steadying herself. He broke the kiss and cupped her cheek in his large hand as he looked into her equally lust clouded eyes. “Tá tú, mo bhanríon, ar meisciúil.” “You, my queen, are intoxicating.” She’d known he could understand her when she spoke Irish, but she didn’t know he could speak it and doing so caused an overwhelming amount of love and desire to wash over her.

A smile spread over her lips before she bit her bottom one and let it slip between her teeth. “Say that again.”

“Tá tú meisciúil.” “You’re intoxicating.” He repeated as he brushed his thumb over her cheek.

“The other part.” She told him with a smirk.

“Mo bhanríon.” “My Queen.” He picked up her left hand from his side and looked down at the tiara on her finger, sat it and her other hand on his shoulders then grabbed her butt with one hand and her back with the other, picking her up. A laugh left her lips as she wrapped her legs around him and he laid her back cutting off her laugh with his lips on hers.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie stood in the kitchen making a late breakfast when Elijah walked in. “Where is Niklaus this morning?” he asked as he leaned on the frame of the archway that led into the room.

“His studio.” She answered flatly, not looking up from the banana she was slicing. She was hoping he’d go away in pursuit of Klaus, but instead he walked over to stand beside her, leaning his hip on the edge of the counter.

“I owe you an apology.” He told her as he set his hand on the bar next to the cutting board.

She flipped the knife around in her hand, slammed it down into the back of his hand. He looked at his hand and the knife that she still held onto then back at her. She looked into his brown eyes with a glare that he was unfortunately getting used to being aimed at him. “I am getting, so sick of your apologies.” She told him through gritted teeth. “Thanks to you, in the back of my head I am still unwillingly coming up with ways to excuse what Rebekah has done.”

“You are the one person he listens to. I needed you to talk him down.” Elijah reasoned.

“Playing mediator was not my job or my wish at that moment.” She argued angrily as she jerked the blade out of his hand and tossed it into the sink. “He looked like death warmed over and all I wanted was to be there for him, however he needed me. Rather that was simply nursing him back to health or talking him out of killing his sister.”

“You made it perfectly clear you had no intentions of that.” Elijah pointed out.

“I was angry with her and pissed at you for stabbing him!” She yelled at him, but she stopped, closed her eyes and placed her hands on the bar as she took a deep breath then let it out. “I said things I didn’t mean. If you seriously think I’d ever really want him to kill her,” she looked back up at him, “for him to live, knowing that he was the one that took her from this world…then you really don’t know me at all.”

“Yes, well, you were not the only one who was angry.” He pulled the handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the blood from his hand where she had stabbed him.

“Oh I’m aware.” She used her hand to scrape the banana slices off of the cutting board into a bowl of honey nut cheerios. “Klaus and Rebekah aren’t the only ones who inherited the Mikaelson temper. You, in your anger, kicked a friend of mine out of this house.”

“You made a friend amongst the riffraff. Why does that not surprise me?” he asked, his air of superiority pissing her off.

She grabbed the jug of milk out of the fridge and took the cap off. “Just because they were loyal to Marcel and Klaus does not make them unworthy of being in the presence of the holier-than-thou Elijah Mikaelson.” She poured some milk in her bowl then capped it and looked at Elijah. “My friend's name is Nate and he is welcome here anytime I damn well please.” She grabbed her bowl of cereal and took a bite.

“If I find out he has less than honorable intentions for you I will put an end to them.” Elijah warned her.

“I’ve come to expect no less from you.” she replied and started to walk off.

“Katie.” She turned back to him with a sigh and an eye roll. He walked over to her, placed his fingertips on her cheek then looked into her eyes. “You are free of my compulsion.”

She blinked out of the compulsive state then took his hand off her face. “Thank you. Now, if you ever compel me again, you can expect more than a slap to the face and a knife through your hand.”

TVDTVDTVD

Later that evening Elijah led Katie to the court yard where Nate stood near the fountain. “He asked to speak to you.” Elijah told her as they walked down the stairs.

“Nate, what are you doing here? Elijah could have killed you.” Katie asked as she walked over to him and the other two vampires.

“I don’t want to leave the quarter. It’s my home.” Nate answered. “Most of the others are across the river following Diego, but I have a different leader in mind.” He made a motion at her with his hand.

“Me?” Katie asked with raised brows and a disbelieving tone. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Hear me out.” He told her defensively. “I understand that you have Klaus and Elijah, but they can’t always be with you. You’ve complained in the past about not being about to go out and about without one of them with you to make sure the witches leave you be. You need a body guard since your dad left. Besides, I kind of thought we had become friends and I don’t leave my friends even when an original tells me to.” He glanced at Elijah who was standing behind Katie then back at her.

“Don’t you have friends amongst the people that you’re leaving behind for me?” Katie asked with a narrow eyed head shake.

“Not really, no.” he answered as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “I’ve lived here for five years. Only a year of that has been spent with Marcel and his people and the whole time I was with them I never felt like I was one of them. You’re the first friend I’ve had here.” He finished with a shrug.

“Then how did you get a daylight ring so fast?” Katie asked.

“I was a vampire before I moved here. Not all witches hate vampires, as you well know.” He pointed out with a motion to the daylight ring she still wore. “If I have to follow a leader to live in this city then I choose you.” he told her with a shrug.

“I say he can stay.” Klaus’s voice hit their ears and they both looked at him as he walked down the stairs to stand beside Elijah. “Though, I’m not sure my opinion is the one that matters at the moment.”

“I would like him to stay here and be able to come and go as he pleases.” Katie said with a look at Elijah.

Elijah frowned in thought and crossed his arms over his chest. After a few seconds that felt like minutes he gave Katie a nod then looked at Nate. “Do not make me regret letting you stay.” Nate gave him a nod.

A Week Later

Katie sat at a chair at the hair salon in the quarter, the hairdresser cutting her long hair that hadn’t been cut in over a year, back into the style Katie preferred which was shoulder length with layers and side bangs. Nate sat in a chair outside keeping an eye on every person that entered the salon while pretending to read a newspaper.

“You know,” Genevieve said as she sat down in the empty chair next to Katie that wasn’t being used by a hairdresser, “You may have Klaus wrapped around your finger, but I’ll have that little knot untied in no time.”

“Excuse me?” Katie asked with raised brows as she looked at Genevieve out of the corners of her eyes, not able to turn her head for fear of messing up her stylist.

Genevieve propped her elbow up on the armrest of the chair. “Once he sees how powerful I am and that I can offer him things you could never dream of, he’ll realize you are nothing more than a has been.”

“You’re forgetting two little problems with your theory.” Katie pointed out, turning her head while her stylist sprayed her hair with water, to give Genevieve a glare. “I’m pregnant with his daughter, and he loves me. He’d never leave me for an overconfident little witch bitch like you.”

Genevieve looked at her painted red nails and shrugged. “We’ll see about that.” she gave Katie a confident smirk as she stood and walked away.

Not two seconds later Nate sat down beside her. “I tried to stop her, but she did that stupid thing witches do where they make it feel like your head’s going to explode.” He told her with a rub of his temples.

“It’s fine.” She told him with a shake of her head.

“Are you gonna tell Klaus?” he asked, sounding worried.

“That a witch got past you or that said witch is out to snatch him away from me?” she asked with a look at him before the stylist asked her to look straight ahead. So she did.

“Um…both?” he answered though it sounded more like a question.

“I have to warn him that she’s after him, even though she could try as hard as she wanted to and she’d never come between us.” she answered. “Don’t worry about Klaus. Unless you do something incredibly stupid like side with our enemies, you’re safe.”

Present Time

Elijah stood in the doorway of Katie’s recording studio watching her where she sat on the couch in the control room, practicing guitar that she’d been getting lessons to play. She’s also been getting lessons on recording and writing music. “What is that you’re playing?” he asked curiously.

“You mean other than a guitar?” she asked then looked away from her fingers on the guitar strings to give him a smile that let him know she was joking with him. He gave her a small, fleeting smile back as he walked in and sat down in the chair at the control table, facing her. “It’s a song of mine, ‘Lonely’.” She answered.

“May I hear it?” he asked hopefully.

“Mmmm…I don’t know…” she answered with a draw. “It’s kind of depressing and I’m not that good yet.” She reasoned with a motion to the guitar.

“I promise not to judge.” He told her with a serious look then gave her a small smile.

“Fine…” she sighed then turned her attention to her guitar and started playing a slow, melancholy tune and sang. “I’m slowly killing myself. Trying so hard at the back of the shelf. It’s just the same every day. I’m writing these songs that will never get played. I get told what’s wrong and what’s right. I don’t have a fantastic life. Everyone’s dying so I keep on trying to make ‘em proud before they’re gone. Can’t someone help me, please, someone help me. I don’t care, anyone or anything ‘cause I’m so sick of being so lonely.” She finished at what she had learned to play then looked at Elijah to see him frowning. “It sucks, I know…” she sighed and set the guitar on the couch beside her.

“No, it was good.” Elijah countered still with a frown on his face. “When did you write it?”

“The end of sophomore year, right after Elena’s parents died. Why?” she asked with a frown.

“Because what I just heard was a literal cry for help.” He told her, sounding really worried.

“Let me guess you thought I’d been feeling neglected by Klaus and lonely because he’s been…entertaining, Genevieve.” She said with a smirk that told him he was being ridiculous. He just nodded. “I knew what I was getting into when we started this whole thing. He’s not neglecting me. I still get just as much time with him as I always did. She gets his days, I get his nights and after Klaus’s wolf relatives and the crescent wolves have moonlight rings on their fingers…she gets dropped on her bony little ass.”

“You are aware that in order to keep up the charade Klaus will eventually be required to give her some of your nights, right?” Elijah pointed out.

“I’m aware.” Katie nodded.

“She will grow suspicious if she even so much as suspects that you and Klaus are still together.” He reminded her.

“And have I not played my part perfectly?” Katie asked, getting irritated with him.

“You have, which is what confuses me.” he told her with a frown. “How are you okay with him indulging her?”

“Because I know where his heart truly lies and that everything that happens between them means absolutely nothing to him and everything to her.” Katie argued.

“How can you so callously crush someone’s heart when yours has been broken so many times?” Elijah asked.

“Because after torturing him and Rebekah, threatening to take Klaus from me and therefore break up yet another part of his family she deserves to get dropped on her ass.” Katie answered then decided to change the subject a bit. “So how’s it going with your end of things?”

“I have gotten the new faction leaders to agree to a meeting this afternoon.” He answered. “Would you like to join me in leading it?” he asked, catching Katie a little off guard. “Diego and Hayley respect you.”

“Yes, but Genevieve will be there representing the witches. Witches, who I need not remind you, I have a special hatred of. Putting the two of us in one room together will be like putting two angry vipers in a tank and watching them fight to the death. It will be counter productive to the mission.” Katie pointed out.

“Yes, you are probably right about that.” he agreed.

“Is she gone yet?” Katie asked, missing the enhanced hearing she once had as a vampire.

Elijah listened for a moment. “No. She and Niklaus are talking, but it’s nothing of import. Would you like me to interrupt and urge her to leave?”

“Yes, please.” Katie told him with a thankful look.

TVDTVDTVD

That afternoon, while Elijah and Genevieve were at the summit, Katie and Klaus had lunch together. “So, how are things with Genevieve?” Katie asked before she took a bite of her b.l.t. sandwich.

“I believe she has grown suspicious.” He answered making Katie give him a curious look. “I noticed a willows hoop dream catcher, adorned with the bones and feet of a chicken, on a shelf in our quarters.”

“She’s spying on you.” Katie observed getting a look from Klaus that asked how she knew about the witch’s use of dream catcher spy glasses. “Fiona’s mother used them all the time to keep tabs on my father. That way she wouldn’t get caught healing my back.”

Klaus looked at her with sadness in his eyes and she knew it was because he too knew what it felt like to have his flesh split open with tiny strips of leather. He took a deep breath, then let it out and took a bite of his lunch. “Yes, she is spying on me. So we can no longer sleep in our quarters.”

“Because if you move or destroy the dream catcher it will only further her suspicions.” Katie sighed.

“And I’m afraid her suspicion stems from the fact that she and I have been taking it too slow. My actions do not match my reputation.” He added. “It is time I took the next step with her…”

“Well,” Katie paused to swallow the food in her mouth then continued, “we knew this was going to happen sooner or later.” she pushed her empty plate away and took a drink of water from the clear wine glass.

“I can not tell if you are hiding your resentment with indifference or if you truly do not care rather or not I sleep with Genevieve.” He observed.

“Klaus…” she sighed as she stood from the chair and walked around the table to lean her butt against it as she looked down at him, “I truly don’t care if you have sex with her. If you’re comfortable using it as a tool of manipulation then so am I.” she assured him. “All of this…Elijah working to unite the factions, us empowering the werewolves and manipulating Genevieve into doing so…it’s all to achieve one main goal.” She placed her hand on his cheek. “Create a safe environment for our daughter with you and the werewolves at the top of the totem pole. It will take time, but I have all faith that we can make it happen.” He scooted his chair back and grabbed her hips as she slid to stand in front of him. “I’ve asked you before and I have to ask again…are you comfortable using sex to manipulate her?”

“It’s nothing I haven’t done a thousand times before.” He answered as he slipped a hand over her stomach. “It’s easy when she means absolutely nothing to me.” she gave him a look that asked him to give her a straight answer. “Yes, I am comfortable with it.”

“Then we have nothing to worry about.” She told him then leaned down and pressed her lips to his. “Though I worry a little,” she made a pinching gesture with her thumb and pointer finger, “that she will be better than me, all things considered.” Her eyes glanced down at her massive stomach.

“You needn’t worry about that.” Klaus assured her as he stood up and looked down at her.

“But I do.” She replied as she slid her hands up his chest. “I can hardly breath these days much less satisfy you…” her eyes slipped from his to look at her hands on his chest. “Besides, you clearly have a thing for redheads considering I found a painting you made of a very beautiful woman with long, wavy, red locks in the attic.”

“How do you know it’s one of mine?” Klaus asked with a tilt of his head.

“Because I’ve watched you paint enough to know your brushstrokes when I see them.” Katie answered.

“I’ll admit to having a predilection for red hair.” he told her before he pecked her on the end of her nose, “However, you…are the red head I crave every second I am away from you.” he leaned down and caught her lips in a long, slow, sweet kiss.

When it broke she looked into his blue eyes. “I love you, Big Bad Wolf.” He just smiled and slipped his thumb over her cheekbone. “So…how’s Father Kieran?”

“His lucidity is slowly deteriorating.” Klaus answered. “I’ve heard talk of him being replaced as the leader of the human faction.”

“By who?” Katie asked with a frown.

“Francesca Correa.” He answered. “She is the city’s leading philanthropist.”

“So she’s a do-gooder like Father K.?” Katie asked curiously.

“She also owns the biggest casino in the city and is the matriarch to a rather sizable drug trafficking empire.” He added.

“Okay…definitely not a do-gooder.” Katie drawled. “Have you spoken to Cami?” Klaus just shook his head as his cell phone dinged in his back pocket.

“The summit is over. No doubt Genevieve will be here soon.” He told her.

“I will be so glad when this is all done and she is banned from this house.” Katie sighed.

“That makes two of us.” Klaus told her then pecked her on the lips. “Until then we all have our parts to play.”

Katie simply blew air between her lips as she led her head fall forward to rest on his chest. Knowing what she was feeling he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

TVDTVDTVD

With Nate at her side Katie looked through maternity dresses on a rack in the local maternity boutique. “So why are you going to this party?” Nate asked as he looked through a rack then held up a black dress and she shook her head no.

“Because it’s partially my responsibility to help Klaus and Elijah make this place safe for my child to grow up in.” She answered and he held up another dress. “Ooh, I like that one.” She took it from him when he held it out to her and draped it over her arm. “And you wonder why I thought you were gay when we first met.” She commented with a playful smile.

“Hey, a guy doesn’t have to be gay to know what will look good on a woman.” He defended.

“Oh I’m aware.” she replied with a laugh.

“For curiosity’s sake why did you think I was gay?” he asked as he held up another dress that she liked and tossed it over her arm.

“You’re pretty for a guy.” She answered and he gave her a “get serious” look. “And I mean that in a very…Jensen Ackles kind of way.”

“Thanks…I think.” He told her as he held up another dress and she shook her head.

“You’re welcome.” She told him then looked at her arm to see that she had way too many dresses stacked on it. “I’m going to go try these on.” After waiting for what felt like forever for her to be done she stepped out of the dressing room in a dark blue form fitting dress that stopped just above her knees with a deep v cowl neckline and long sleeves. “Be honest, what do you think? Is it too plain?”

“I think if you wear that dress every male at the party as well as some females might have heart attacks.” He answered.

“Is that a good thing?” Katie asked with an unsure look down at the generous amount of cleavage that the dress revealed.

“Yes.” He answered. “And no, it’s not too plain.”

“It doesn’t look like I’m trying way too hard to be sexy when in reality I look like a blue whale?” she asked self-consciously.

“No.” he answered. “If your goal is to make Klaus remember what he left for a shapeless bean pole with no personality setting other than bitch, then this is your dress.”

“What would I do without you?” Katie asked fondly.

“You would be a hopeless mess too scared to leave the compound.” He answered, then smiled and shook his head. “Na, you’d be just fine, friendless, but fine. Now go change, I still need to buy something to wear to this fancy pants shindig.”

She ducked back behind the curtain of the changing room. “You’re coming tonight?” she asked knowing that parties weren’t usually his thing.

“You think I’m going to let you walk into a room of witches, werewolves and vampires without a bodyguard?” he asked as if her question was silly. “No. I’m your self appointed friend date.”

Katie just laughed to herself at his silly over protectiveness. “You know both Elijah and Klaus will be there right? Neither of them will let anything happen to me.”

“Yes, but Elijah will most likely be working the floor ensuring that everyone gets along with each other and Klaus will have his head up Genevieve’s butt.” He pointed out.

“Okay, fine, you can be my friend date.” She told him as she pulled her maternity shirt over her head then stepped out of the booth and shrugged her jacket on.

TVDTVDTVD

Loud dance music floated upstairs from the party that was kicking off downstairs and into the bedroom that was attached to the nursery where Katie stood at a vanity fastening a shimmering bracelet around her wrist. When it was secured she took off the necklace Klaus had given her and added some small shimmering beads to the chain dressing it up to match the form flattering dress. Klaus let himself in and quietly closed the door. Katie turned to see him dressed in a black suit with a black dress shirt and a black and gold printed tie. “Hello handsome.” Katie greeted with an appreciative tone that suggested if she had it her way they wouldn’t leave the bedroom at all tonight.

Klaus growled, low and deep, as he sat his hands on her waist then slid them down to her hips and caught her lips with his. “Was it your intention, when you chose that dress, to torture me all night?”

Katie laughed and he noticed a devious tone in it. “I chose it to show Genevieve that regardless of what she thinks even eight months pregnant I’m still sexier than she’ll ever be. Torturing you and making you think only of me all night was just a happy side note.”

He gave her an impressed look with his lust filled eyes. “You haven’t peeked at the nursery have you?” he asked considering he knew it was tempting to do so, but he hadn’t finished it yet and didn’t want her to see it until he was done.

“I promised you I wouldn’t.” she told him with an eye roll and he gave her a look that told her to be honest. “No, I haven’t peeked at your unfinished project.”

“And you remember your role for tonight?” he asked, getting back to business.

“Yep, hang out with Nate, look defeated when I see you with Genevieve, help keep an eye out for tension and if need be distract Genevieve catty, immature banter while you’re talking to Jackson who is the alpha of one of the two branches of crescent wolves.” She answered then slid her hands over the smooth skin of his neck.

He smiled down at her but it faded when an uncomfortable look flashed across her face and she placed her hand on her stomach. “What’s wrong?” he asked, suddenly concerned.

“It’s nothing.” She assured him with a shake of her head as her face relaxed.

“Katie.” He drawled in a warning tone.

“Klaus.” She mimicked back. “It’s just Braxton hicks.”

“You’re sure?” he asked with wide worried eyes.

“I’m sure.” She assured him then dropped her hand from her loosening stomach. “I know what contractions feel like. I’ll tell you when I start feeling the real thing.” He breathed out a heavy breath and rested his forehead on hers. “I know you grow more anxious the closer we get to the due date…” she sighed as she grabbed his hands off of her hips and threaded their fingers together as she looked into his steel blue eyes. “But we’ll be okay.”

It was rare for him to let her see him vulnerable, but every time he did it just reminded her how much he cared for her and trusted her. Eventually, as the music outside grew louder, Klaus let go of her hands and pecked her on the lips. “Let’s get this show on the road shall we?” he asked as he held his hand out to the door for her to go first.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie and Nate were sitting at a table munching on some hors d’oeuvres when Genevieve and the three harvest girls walked in from one entrance. At the same time, a group of people led by two rustically handsome men, one with long blond hair and the other with shorter, but still long brown hair, came in from the second. “I’m guessing those guys are the crescent wolves?” Katie asked Nate.

“Yep. Something tells me it’s only a matter of time before this party gets interesting.” He answered then noticed her plate was empty so he grabbed his then motioned to hers, “you done with that?” she gave him a nod so he went to pass the plates off to a waiter. While he was gone she watched Elijah join the party and Katie was going to go talk to him and compliment him on his party planning skills, but another woman beat her to it and started flirting with him. “Feeling jealous?” Nate asked as he joined her at the tall table and handed her a champagne flute of sparkling white grape juice.

“What?” she asked looking away from the woman and Elijah, to a smirking Nate. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Um, probably because you two were a thing once upon a time.” He answered getting a frown from Katie considering she never told him about her past with Elijah. “It’s kind of public knowledge that you were soul bound to him and the link only broke because your soul shattered. The recovery from which led to you being able to get knocked up by Klaus when you were still a vampire.”

“My life’s story is public knowledge?” she asked with raised brows and he nodded. “Wow, that sucks. But to answer your question, no I’m not jealous. I’m curious.” She told him with a sigh then looked to see that Elijah was elsewhere, but the woman still stood at the table choosing desserts.

“You’re curious?” he asked disbelievingly.

“Last I heard he was dating Hayley. So when I see him flirting with whoever that chick is, yeah I get a touch curious.” She defended.

“That chick is Francesca Correa.” Nate informed her with a smirk.

“Would it completely and totally annoy you if I asked you to be nosey and tell me what Elijah and Diego are talking about?” Katie asked with a nod of her head at the two men.

“Not at all, I love being nosey.” He told her with an interested smirk then noticed her giving him a look. “What, guys can be nosey too.”

“I knew there was a reason I like you.” she told him with a laugh that he playfully shushed.

“Elijah is telling Diego to be polite and welcoming to the wolves, but they killed Diego’s family and would have killed him too had Marcel not saved him.” Nate told her while continuing to listen then Katie watched as Elijah said something to Diego and walked away.

“What did Elijah say back?” Katie asked, but when she looked at Nate she saw that he was looking off to the side and up. She followed his gaze and realized he’d noticed Klaus and Genevieve standing on the upper balcony talking.

“Elijah used fancy words to tell him to suck it up and Genevieve just called you a walking incubator with trashy taste in fashion.” He answered. The insult didn’t bother her, it wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard a thousand times before in her life. What bothered her was when Klaus placed his hand on Genevieve’s shoulder and said something to make her smile before he kissed her.

It wasn’t passionate or even a lingering kiss, but it was still a kiss and the first time Katie had actually seen them together. “If you squeeze that glass any harder it’s going to break and slice your hand open. I don’t need to tell you how bad that would be given the amount of vampires in the building.” Katie tore her eyes off of Genevieve, who’d seen her giving them a glare that if looks could kill would have Genevieve coughing up blood, then set her flute of juice on the table. She flexed her fingers and took a deep breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She answered. He ducked into her line of vision and raised his brows at her. “No, but…I have to be.” She told him with a sigh. “Otherwise I’m not and I can’t deal with that right now.”

“Well, I would offer you a drink, but…” he motioned to her stomach.

“Yeah, trust me, if I wasn’t pregnant I would have found my way to the nearest container of bourbon and drank half of it already.” She told him with an aggravated look then picked up her glass and downed it.

“You know they say the last month of pregnancy is all hormones and mood swings. So, just, keep that in mind.” He told her in an attempt to make her feel like less of a crazy person and she gave him a thankful look.

An hour later, Nate had left her to dance with a witch that had been eyeing him all night. So Katie stood at the table by herself watching him dance with the witch and Elijah dance with Hayley. She was supposed to be keeping an eye out for fighting or tension, but so far the entire party had been going according to plan. So when Jackson, the rustically handsome brunette werewolf, interrupted Elijah and Hayley and Hayley started dancing with him, Katie left the table she’d been hanging out at to go to Elijah. “Save me from my boredom?” she asked with her hand held out to him.

“Gladly.” He took it and gave her a spin before she placed her other hand on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Did she just ditch you?” Katie asked with a glance at Hayley.

“She just informed me that she and Jackson were betrothed right after their birth and considering she is eight weeks pregnant with his child they are going through with the ceremony.” He told her with a displeased look.

“But Jackson and the other crescents haven’t even been cured for a full month.” Katie thought out loud. “So that means…” she couldn’t make herself finish her sentence. It meant that Hayley has slept with Jackson while being courted by Elijah. “I warned her-”

“It’s fine.” He cut her off.

“She cheated on you. That’s not okay in my book.” Katie argued with a frown and a glare at Hayley who saw and averted her eyes in shame.

“They got caught up during a full moon and sparks flew.” He defended Hayley. “I can’t say I do not know the feeling.” She knew from the look in his chocolate browns that he was talking about the sparks that once flew between the two of them. “I just did not feel it with her.”

“What about Francesca Correa?” Katie asked and he narrowed his eyes and shook his head not knowing what she was talking about. “I saw you two flirting earlier.”

“She flirted first and I flattered her because she is the new head of the human faction.” He explained.

“Either way, she has a thing for you.” Katie told him noticing Francesca gave Katie the stink eye. “She doesn’t like that I’m dancing with you.”

“Well, you are incredibly threatening to the entire female population in that dress.” He replied purposely making it a point to not look any lower down than her eyes.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She told him before he gave her another twirl making her smile.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie was dancing with Nate when a confrontation between the blond werewolf guy, who’s name she’d learned was Oliver, and Diego broke out. As soon as Diego threw Oliver into a glass table, shattering it, Nate whooshed Katie up to the second floor away from the fight. Soon after, Elijah pinned Oliver’s head down on a table while Jackson held Diego against one of the wooden columns with a stake on his chest. “This ends now. I won’t ask again.” Elijah told Oliver.

“Oh we’ll end it alright.” Jackson said, making Elijah look over his shoulder to see that he had Diego pinned down.

“So end it.” Katie spoke up as she left Nate and started walking down the stairs and into the middle of the courtyard. “Kill each other. Get it all over with.”

When she walked past Klaus where he had been talking to Francesca she heard her ask him, “Shouldn’t you intervene or something?”

“Why would I? This party just got interesting.” Klaus replied. “Besides, I want to know what’s going to come out of that talented little mouth of hers.”

Katie ignored him and kept her eyes on Elijah and Jackson. “Except that it won’t be over. It will just be one more hate crime to add to the long list. Let’s take a look at the “crimes” each of the factions shall we?” She air quoted the word crimes as she looked at Jackson and Oliver. “The werewolves have a natural and uncontrollable tendency to turn feral one night a month and tear people to shreds. Therefore getting on everyone’s bad side and we all know that the wolves and vampires have hated each other since the creation of time.”

She turned her eyes to Elijah and Diego. “Then there's the vampires who ticked off the witches by throwing a wrench into their harvest ritual and using one of their own to control them. And, well, they anger the werewolves and humans simply by existing.”

From there she looked at the witches. “In retaliation for the vampires and the leader of the human faction getting in the way of them gaining more power with their ritual, the witches hexed not one, but two humans. Long before that they also cursed the werewolves to live in their wolf form save one day of the month. And to top it all off they’ve angered the original vampires with their repeated attempts to get rid of my unborn child.”

Lastly she looked at Francesca, “Then there’s the human’s…” she sighed. “From what I’ve seen they turn a blind eye as long as the money keeps rolling in and when it stops they go on a killing spree of whatever faction cut them off.”

“Are you approaching a point?” Elijah asked, still pinning Oliver’s head to the table.

“My point is…” she turned to look at everyone else in the room, now speaking to them. “We all have reason to hate each other, but we need to put the past in the past, step out of the hate tainted shoes of our ancestors and come together to create a thriving community. Not just for ourselves, but for future generations as well. Otherwise we will constantly be looking over our shoulders waiting for the next war to break out…the next crime to be committed, and I don’t know about all of you, but that doesn’t seem like much of a life to me.” she paused and looked at the four men still frozen in place with their eyes on her. “So, boys, what’s it going to be, murder and war… or peace and hope for a better future?” she asked and the men let go of one other and brushed themselves off. “Alright then,” she looked at the DJ standing at a table in the corner of the silent courtyard and made eye contact with him. “laissez le bon temps rouler!” she waved her finger in the air in a wrap it up manner and the DJ turned the music back on kicking the party back up.

Klaus gave her a proud smirk when they caught each other’s eyes as she turned and headed back up the stairs where Nate still stood. “You are aware that you just did a New Orleans style mike drop right?”

“I’m not sure I’m aware of anything that just came out of my mouth.” She answered as she turned her back to the crowd, leaning on the wooden railing then stared off into the distance. “I hate being the center of attention.”

“Then what possessed you to stick yourself in the limelight?” Nate asked curiously.

She shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know, I just…I saw Elijah slam that werewolf’s head into a table and Jackson threaten to kill Diego and something in me just…snapped.” She explained then met his green eyes.

“Well, this is your home now and you’re not just a human, you used to be a vampire and you’re carrying a baby that is three out of the four factions. You have good reason to want them to all get along.” Nate pointed out.

“Yes, but that doesn’t give me the right to jump onto a soapbox and lecture them like I’m some kind of high and mighty, all knowing-”

“Queen?” she heard Klaus ask and looked to her left to see him walking over, “May I steal a minute, mate?” he asked Nate who nodded and walked off.

“I’m not a queen.” She told him with a head shake.

“That speech you just gave suggests otherwise.” He countered. “You may not see it, but everyone else does. You were born for this role. All you have to do is open your mouth and people respond.”

“Born for it or not I wasn’t born into it.” she argued as she turned around and looked down at the crowd. “This has only been my home for a little under eight months. Those people have lived here their whole lives.” Genevieve, standing at a table with the harvest girls, minus Davina, looked up at them and Katie frowned. “Queen or not we shouldn’t be talking right now. So,” she gave Genevieve a challenging look as she turned from the crowd to face Klaus and placed her hand on his shoulder. She started seductively talking to and touching him, “I’m going to flirt with you like the desperate, has been, walking incubator she thinks I am and you’re going to look at me like I’m pathetic, reject me then walk away.”

His face took on a look of disdain as he removed her hands from where they were slipping under his suit jacket then towered over her as he grabbed her face in his large hand and looked her in the eyes. “I love you.” from far away, especially from the angle Genevieve was viewing the exchange from, it looked like Klaus had told her he loathed her.

Katie’s face twisted with a pained look and she surprised even herself with the tear that slipped down her cheek as he let go of her face, turned his back on her then walked away. She kept her eyes on him as he made his way to Genevieve then asked her to dance to the slow song that was playing. While they were dancing Genevieve glanced up at Katie and gave her a snooty, ‘I win’ smile then slipped her eyes back to Klaus. “Wanna take a walk, get some fresh air?” Nate asked as he walked over and stood beside her.

“Fresh air would be nice.” She answered as she took her eyes off of Klaus and Genevieve to look at Nate as she wiped the tear from her cheek.

They were on their way to one of the main exits when she heard Elijah call her name and stopped as he walked over to her. “May I have a moment?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” She answered, wondering if she’d said something in her speech that pissed him off, then looked at Nate who had also stopped, “I’ll meet you outside.” he went ahead and she turned her attention back to Elijah who placed his hand on her shoulder and walked her over to the desserts table. “What’s up?”

“First,” he grabbed a slice of cheesecake and a metal fork and held them out to her so she took them with a roll of her eyes, “I haven’t seen you eat much tonight. Also, I have been talking to the faction leaders and we all agree that you should join us in signing the treaty tonight. They believe you should take a seat at the table.

“What?” she asked around a bite of the plain cheesecake.

“With Rebekah no longer in the picture, the people see you as the Mikaelson matriarch.” He explained. “Not to mention you put things in perspective and gave them the final push that led to them all agreeing to sign the treaty tonight.”

“You call me a matriarch, Klaus calls me a queen, both are flattering, but insanely inaccurate.” She said with an animated shake of her head not understanding why Klaus and Elijah kept putting her on a pedestal.

“Katie, you are standing in a unique place of power as an important member of this community with the fresh, un-bias, view of an outsider. We are simply encouraging you to embrace it. However, it goes without saying that you do not have to do anything you do not want to do.” He told her diplomatically.

“Can I think about it?” she asked as she dropped her eyes to her cheesecake.

“Of course.” He answered, happy that she was even thinking about it. “We’re meeting here in the courtyard at 11 if you decide to sign it.” she just gave him a nod and headed outside where she found Nate sitting on a bench.

“So, what did Elijah want?” he asked as she sat down next to him.

“He asked me to sign the treaty.” She answered with a sigh as she slipped her hands over the itching skin of her stomach.

“Are you going to?” he asked curiously.

“I don’t know.” She answered with a shrug. “On one hand I’m flattered and I want to step up to the plate, but on the other I just want to be a good mother.”

“You know, this is the twenty-first century, you can choose to be both.” He told her, making her look at him across her shoulder. “I think I speak for the masses when I say I think you should go for it. Take your place at the table and use your voice to make a difference.”

Katie took in a deep breath as she lifted her shoulders then let them fall as she let it out.

TVDTVDTVD

Elijah gave Katie a surprised look when he saw her walk into the courtyard and join him, Francesca, Genevieve, Diego, Hayley and Jackson where they all stood around a table that held the new treaty, a bowl and seven silver daggers. Diego was the first to pick up a dagger and cut his palm. Everyone else followed suit then held their hands over the bowl, creating the ‘ink’ they would sign the treaty with. Elijah dipped a quill pen in the blood then handed it to Diego who signed then handed it to Francesca who passed it off to Genevieve then on until Hayley handed Katie the pen. So Katie dipped it then signed her name and handed it to Elijah, the last to sign.

After a few words from Elijah the meeting dispersed. Katie and Genevieve headed for the stairs at the same time and bumped shoulders. Katie bit her tongue, gave Genevieve the most polite smile she could muster for such a horrid person, then stepped aside and waved for her to go first. “You know,” Genevieve started as they neared the top of the stairs, “you can flash your cleavage and flirt all you want, but you’ll never win him back.”

“Yet, I believe you’re time with him is limited and you know it.” Katie replied with a condescendingly chipper tone and her head held high as they came to a stop at the top of the stairs. “After the birth of our child he’ll be so wrapped up in his daughter and me, aka his family, that your little love spell on him will break and he’ll forget all about his witchy little play thing. So enjoy your borrowed time in our bed while it lasts.” Katie told her with a smile as she walked past her. “Goodnight.”

She knew she shouldn’t say things like that since it was technically true, but she was ninety percent sure that Genevieve saw her as a giant joke no matter what came out of Katie’s mouth.

[whittakerjodie]

Material Girl (13th Doctor X Reader)

Summary: The reader loves collecting all sorts of beautiful trinkets from their time travelling adventures. The Doctor starts to contribute. REQUESTED BY MEEEEEEE

A/N: the vibes are kinda all over the place w this one i think but here it is!

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Explosions, but nothing super severe

You didn’t just love shiny things; anything beautiful caught your eye and kept it for a long while. Part of you knew that you shouldn’t dedicate so much sentiment to material objects, but you couldn’t help yourself. The Doctor noticed your habit for keeping souvenirs when she’d barged into your room at 3 in the morning, yelling about a Silurian attack happening a few towns away. (She’d landed in the wrong month, but you were happy to see her nonetheless, as she was 2 weeks late picking you up for an adventure)

“Oh, this is from Atros!” She said with a smile, picking up a large necklace you’d purchased from the merchant-filled planet. It was glittering with dozens of unknown gems, all wrapped in a red metal native to the planet. It was one of many, many, many jewelry items you had, and it was only a small piece compared to the rest of the souvenirs you’d taken. 

“I know you said not to keep a bunch of stuff, because of the timelines and what not” You said. “But I’m not showing it to anybody, I promise. I just… like having it all, I suppose.” 

The Doctor put the necklace back carefully, thinking as her eyes scanned over the rest of your impressive collection. After a minute and a quick scan of her sonic screwdriver at a particularly suspicious looking item, she turned back to you. “It’s alright, then. Didn’t ever realize you kept so much. Is it just for memories sake?” 

She had taken a seat on the edge of your bed, peering down at you curiously. Propping yourself on your elbows, you responded: “That’s part of it, yeah, but I guess the aesthetics play into it as well.” 

“Aesthetics?” 

“It’s pretty,” You clarified. The Doctor grinned, like she’d thought of something brilliant. 

“Fair enough. You should get some rest. I’ll be back soon.” Despite your protests on account of her tardiness, she ran back into her magic blue box and it began to disappear, sending her away from you. Fluffing your pillow up with an annoyed huff you layed back down, eyes remaining fixated on your beautiful trinkets as you waited for them to close. 

It was another week before the Doctor arrived again. Every day you tried to incorporate a bit of alien accessories into your outfit, choosing the most human-like ones so you didn’t raise suspicions. Colors and designs didn’t matter, but some of them had a tendency to be secret weapons or glow in unnatural ways. The last thing you needed was questions being asked and the Doctor taking your prizes away. 

After work one day, you set the pair of sparkling star-shaped earrings, cut out of Etherian sunstone, onto the shelf where you kept everything else. You stared at the pair for several moments, lips stretching into a small smile at their beauty, which was only accessible to you and you alone. Was it selfish of you to keep such things to yourself? You didn’t care to consider things like that for very long. As long as you were appreciating them properly… that’s what mattered. 

The familiar whorp whorp of the TARDIS broke through the air and your lips stretched farther into a full grin. She was late, again, but you found it hard to complain when each trip yielded such wonderful experiences and treasures. You could hear her stomping around the living room, looking for you. 

“In here!” You called. Weeks ago, you would’ve scolded yourself for being so bold as to invite her into your bedroom, but you missed her so much, and you were sure she wouldn’t take notice of the implications. Sure enough, the door was thrown open eagerly. You stepped back from the mirror; You’d gotten dressed again, in pajamas. However, you still managed to add a little extra ‘something’ , a ring made out of resin encasing the ashes of a dead star. It was still beautiful, but in a sad way. It was a privilege to own it, knowing that each particle of ash had once belonged to a collective marvel. When you saw it in the shop, you couldn’t not buy it. 

The Doctor gasped when her eyes fell upon it, immediately pulling your hands into her own. “Wow!” She gasped, turning your hand over. “That looks like… hmm.. Seems like the remains of Sotonus-97!” 

“You can tell by looking?” You asked in awe, blushing as she kept your hand held tightly in her own despite finishing her examination. She nodded, then reached into her back pocket. 

“Close your eyes” You did as you were told, eyebrow raising out of curiosity. The Doctor giggled softly, something that made your heart flutter. Then, your senses focused on the weight that she was setting into your palm. 

“Alright, open them” Once again following the Doctor’s orders, you let your eyes flutter open, and they landed on one of the most beautiful bracelets you’d ever seen in your life. A loud, shocked gasp escaped you as you glanced over the polished gold, curved into a ring that the Doctor could easily slip onto your wrist. All across the surface of the bracelet was a tightly woven abstract piece of circles and lines- you recognized it as the text that littered the TARDIS monitors and ceilings. 

“Doctor… wow” You whispered, running your finger across the bracelet's surface. The Timelord kept her eyes on you, gauging your reaction to the gift. She let out a small sigh as she realized the reception was positive, the edge of her lips twitching upwards. 

“I assume you like it?” She asked. You chuckled; clearly you did, but the Doctor could always use the extra affirmation. 

“Of course, Doctor” You reassured her, setting your hand on her cheek. The two of you froze, smiles not faltering but not exactly growing either. The bracelet felt a lot heavier against your skin, pulling you down and yet doing so little to ground you back into reality. Did you really just do that? Realizing that every second you were panicking was another awkward moment of your hand caressing her, you let it fall back to your side.

“I-I got it from the Patraxus system. They let you engrave anything.” 

“What does it say?” You wondered, tracing the patterns. The Doctor leaned back, scratching the back of her head with an awkward stretch of her lips. 

“It doesn’t exactly have an english equivalent,” You nodded, accepting her answer despite something in the back of your head recognizing her lie. The Doctor wasn’t always honest about some things, particularly related to her past and people, and you knew not to push it. 

“It’s absolutely beautiful either way. Thank you, really!” 

“Don’t have to thank me. Always happy to share bits of the universe. Figured I owed you for being so late, anyway. Speaking of that- were you about to sleep? I can always leave and come back” 

Realizing she was planning on whisking you away, you glanced at your closet. You could find something else to wear. “Don’t you dare. I’ll get changed, and then I fully expect you to surprise me.” 

Not that she ever failed at that. 

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

When you got changed out of your pajamas and quicikly drank a cup of coffee to keep yourself awake for whatever the Doctor had in store, you pushed open the door of the big blue box residing in your living room. The space-time machine gave a pleasant whirrr as you entered, the crystal columns growing a brighter shade of orange. In the corner of the room, Yaz and Ryan were talking with each other. Graham was nowhere in sight, and the Doctor was fidgeting at the console. 

“Hey guys, what’s up?” 

“Little tired,” Ryan said with a shrug. “Graham decided to skip out on this one, don’t think he appreciates getting his sleep interrupted that much. Hey- what’s that?” 

Noticing his gaze was focused on the Doctor’s gift, you lifted your wrist so he could examine it closer. His eyebrows raised as the gold glowed under the lights of the TARDIS. “Wicked. Where’d you get that one from?” 

“I got it from the Doc actually! Said she owed me for being so late.” Yaz scoffed and crossed her arms, taking her own turn gawking at the garment. 

“We didn’t get anything” 

“You didn’t?” 

“Maybe a quick half-assed apology, but certainly not something like this!” Ryan complained. Suddenly, your cheeks felt *very* warm. Why would the Doctor give you something and not them? Maybe it was easier to find gifts for you because of your collection habits? Or… your mind toyed with another, more romantic idea. Yaz and Ryan seemed to be following the same thread, and they smirked. 

“Well.. I’m sure it's just something she thought would look cool in my collection!” You offered quickly. They shared a look before rolling their eyes, dragging you over to the console so you could help them convince the Doctor to take the three of you to Paris (a trip you’d all been trying to organize for some time- it was hard to decide on what time period to visit) 

The gifts didn't stop at the bracelet; it seemed as though, after showing her your collection, she became quite invested in contributing to it. Even if you weren’t accompanying her on an adventure, she would find something for you to add. It wasn't like you could refuse- each and everyone was beautiful beyond description and begged to be cherished properly. 

“Do you need new shelves or anything?” The Doctor asked. Setting your hairbrush down on your dresser, you turned your head towards her. She was adding a few gemstones to your collection, frowning. There was no longer any space on any surface in your room to house more trinkets. 

“Oh. Guess I didn’t realize they were getting that crowded,” You said with a laugh. The Doctor grinned and pocketed the stones, sitting on your bed. The sight made your heart sing a little. Not the time, you reminded yourself. 

The TARDIS had taken quite the hit earlier in the day, while the five of you were getting chased by aliens. The Space-time machine was currently refueling, and Yaz and Ryan had practically thrown the Doctor at you for the night. Now the two of you were alone in your flat, staying up far too late. The Doctor didn’t sleep much, you knew that, but it felt like if you gave into your urge to sleep you’d miss out on time with her. And one-on-one encounters didn’t happen as much as you wanted them too. 

“You alright, Y/N?” The time lord asked. You nodded and she reached over to pull your blanket back, fluffing your pillow. “Think it might be time for you to sleep. Graham gave me a mouthful for interrupting his so much… Sometimes I forget how much of it you lot need.” 

“Not really tired,” You protested, but a yawn contradicted your already weak argument. The Doctor raised a brow and patted the mattress beside her. Unable to go against the Doctor’s orders you lower yourself onto the soft surface. She pulled the comforter back over you, tucking you in. 

“I’ll be in the living room if you need me. Sleep well!” As she stood, your hand caught her wrist, a million thoughts running through your head. “Y/N?” 

“Stay?” realizing how desperate you sounded, you cleared your throat and tried the request again. “Will you stay? Just for a bit? We don’t get many moments like this is all” 

The Doctor blinked, surprised, then nodded and returned to her spot. “Like this?” 

“Well, that’s fine, but you can lie down if you want too,” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it was better that way; then she couldn’t hear how much it trembled from nervousness. She slowly laid down on her side, facing you with a curious look in her eye. 

“Do you want a bedtime story?” It was too hard to fight your laugh, and the timelord rolled her eyes playfully. “I’ll have you know I’m ace at them. Dad skills. Or- mum skills? No, definitely dad skills. Not that it matters” 

“I just wanted to talk for a bit I suppose” 

“About what?” the Doctor whispered, eyes never leaving yours. 

“Anything?” 

Before the Doctor could choose from her infinite options, there was a loud bang from across your flat, followed by an orchestra of destruction. The Doctor’s reflexes were a lot quicker than yours and she shot up from the bed just as you processed that anything had occurred. There were several loud footsteps coming closer and a deafening grumbling voice. 

The aliens from earlier. The Doctor stepped into the hallway, switching into Oncoming Storm mode. You finally came to your senses and you got to your feet, looking around the room for something to grab to use as a makeshift weapon. 

“How’d you manage to escape the time loop?” The Doctor demanded to know. When you saw motion out of the corner of your eyes they dropped downward. The Doctor was motioning towards the window, the action just out of the aliens sights. 

Even without following instruction and heading towards the window, you knew any efforts would be in vain. You had no fire escape close by your window and it was too high of a drop for you to make without breaking something, which you preffered to avoid doing. 

When the Doctor didn’t hear the window open she glanced at you quickly, asking why you weren’t doing as you were told with her eyes. You shook your head and she pursed her lips in understanding. Then, her eyes went wide and she quickly dashed back into the room, slamming the door and throwing one of your dressers to the floor in front of it. 

Milliseconds after she did so, the door began to shake as the aliens pounded their fists against it, demanding entrance. The Doctor threw the window open and then her hand landed on your shoulder and pulled you downward onto the floor. Behind the door, you could hear a sinister beeping begin and the Doctor tugged on your shirt, frantically crawling underneath the bed. This time, you were able to follow orders. 

As soon as you were under the bed safely, the Doctor’s arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly to her chest. It was hard to enjoy the position when the beeping was getting louder by the second until there was a sudden wave of force pushing against you. The door gave way easily to the bomb that the aliens had placed behind it, and the splinters of wood shot across the room. Thankfully, nothing hit you, as you happened to be receiving full-body protection from an alien that was a lot less violent than the ones stepping past the destroyed door. 

The Doctor pressed you even tighter to her still as a whimper made it’s way past your lips, her fingers tangling themselves in your hair. “Don’t make a sound” 

You nodded against her embrace, shutting your eyes to make the effort easier. The aliens were stepping all around your room, throwing your belongings all over to examine them. One of the aliens reached the window, and they grunted, annoyed. By opening the window, the Doctor had let them believe that you’d already escaped. 

“Let’s leave,” One of the aliens hissed. “Clearly this place is of no use to us. The humans will pay for their disobedience.” 

Several grunts followed, and then their footsteps retreated into the distance. Just when you found yourself feeling safe enough to open your eyes, the same menacing beep started up again, coming from what seemed to be multiple sources. The Doctor smoothed your hair behind your ear, eyes wide. 

“I think we need to run, now!” Running was the status quo, but it was a lot harder to run from your own home. The two of you rolled out from underneath the bed on different sides, meeting up in the middle of the room to begin your escape. Grabbing your hand, the Doctor dragged you through your flat. All along the floor there were small black boxes, glowing red and beeping. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have a back door by any chance?” The Doctor yelled over the looping noise. You descended the stairs to the floor below. 

“One, another flight down!” The two of you raced to the back door, and you silently prayed that the bombs would be weak enough to not harm any of the other residents of the building. The Doctor kicked the door open, pulling the two of you into the outdoors. 

The move was rushed and the two of you awkwardly fell to the ground just in time to watch the force from the bombs reduce your windows to dust. Flames branched out from all of the brand new holes in your home, burning into the back of your eyes. The Doctor covered you with her body again, shielding you from falling debris. 

Twenty five minutes and a conversation with the fire chief later, you were left standing outside of your destroyed flat, waiting for the others to show up and help the Doctor and you hunt the aliens down again. A shiver ran through your body as a sharp wind moved through the air, and soon there was a sleek fabric draped over your shoulders. 

“Sorry about everything” The Doctor murmured, no longer wearing her signature coat. It was hard to think of something to say; after all, you had just lost all of your belongings and the only place outside of the TARDIS that you could call home. Understanding why you didn’t respond, the Doctor slowly eased an arm around your shoulder to comfort you. “I’d be happy to find you another flat- or a house, if you preferred. And clothes, too. The TARDIS could probably recreate half your closet using your memories alone!” 

“It’s not those things, I suppose… I talked to the fire chief. There’s only a little bit of my collection left.”  You revealed, voice thick and wavering. The Doctor sighed and hugged you tighter, reaching for your hand. You were still wearing the golden bracelet she gave you weeks ago. She smiled down at it, giving your hand a comforting squeeze. 

“We’ll just have to collect a lot more, then. Tell you what- from now on, we’re not leaving a single planet until we have at least 2 items for the collection, I promise. 3, even! How does that sound?” 

Spirits lifting with the help of her cheerful tone and eagerness to make you happier, you couldn’t help but mirror her smile. “Sure, Doc, that sounds great” 

You leaned to your side to press a kiss to her cheek. When you pulled back, the skin was pink, her eyes crinkling as her smile transformed into a grin. Voices called out your names and the two of you turned, seeing Ryan, Yaz, and Graham running towards you. 

“Come on then,” You murmured to the time lord. “Let’s get rid of these guys and then start working on that promise of yours, yeah?” 

As the Doctor pulled the two of you back into action, you didn’t bother looking back. There would be time to mourn efficiently later. For the moment, all you needed to focus on was the woman holding your hand. After all, no matter what treasures you collected or lost, the greatest one was always the Doctor

[akkeyagentofhelheim]

Before I Fall, Fall

It was quiet in the Library.

A clock ticked rhythmically in the lazy light of the morning. The constant whir of cog and wheel filled the air, punctuated by a hum and bend, phasing between Aidorinian styled bannisters, past crane carvings on the side of a bookshelf, and above a sandy blonde head hunched in front of a small shrine, tucked away in the corner. A single incense stick smoked from where it stood in its base as Juro sat in silence, his eyes closed and hands held together in prayer, glowing softly between blue and gold as he paid his respects to the Bookkeepers that disappeared several hours ago. 

Virion gave a single croon as it landed on his good shoulder in worry. He opened his eyes to give the golem a scratch on the head, “I’m fine…” he assured it softly, carefully getting to his feet. He was still sore all over, accompanied by lethargy in his limbs from the massive output of magic he made. He carefully thumbed the torn fabric of his kimono on his shoulder, lamenting the loss of the garments, the blood already dried a while ago. He had yet to change.

"I was careless. I forgot she saw everything," he murmured as Akkey's interrogation replayed in his head. "You're attached to Yun Milae." He placed a slender gloved hand on the edge of a table, leaning his full weight against it, the other covering part of his face as he struggled, "I know that. That's the problem…" 

One thought led to another as he spiraled through his memories, ones he wished to forget but couldn’t. Virion could only watch and extend its magic around its master in protection.

“You are nothing but a tool. A vessel for infinite power, destined to be alone. You can’t leave this place. There’s nothing, nobody out there for you. Don’t let her stories get into your head.” There was a scream of pain as a whip was brought down onto his handler. He saw nothing but white.

-

“Well… this was Jurou’s idea, but I can’t fault him for it, I understand where he’s coming from. We’re your family now. Our law is no help, no harm, and record what you see...” The Elder’s lopsided grin shone down on him. He smiled back in the same way, “But between you and me, I break that rule a bit. I like helping people even just a little, makes me feel more myself, more human. But don’t tell the others.” They laughed together.

-

He fought with his Mentor, “She’s bad news, I can feel it! Why won’t you listen? She’s nothing like you!” He didn’t see him for years after as the Mentor stubbornly searched for where the suspicious girl came from. 

-

“This is all my fault,” His Mentor was crying, “I’m the one who dug around and set off their radar. You need to run, Jin. I won’t have you pay for what I did!” The Elder laid in his lap, dead. He had lost control again. Everyone was gone, it was just him and his Mentor left, cowering away from the Weapon as she pressed on with her duty to bring him back to Chuugo.

A flash of light on blade. A protecting arm flung over him. The sickening sound of sword through body, streaking blood over his face. The tip of the weapon nicking him along the jaw in the process. The Mentor heaving against the pain to keep her away from him, the blade slicing him again as bodies collided. Blood trailing in two lines down his neck as he was pushed towards nix portals, whose captured users were also escaping themselves.

“Don’t forget who you are, Little Crane.”

He ran.

A bell-like sound pinged from the flat device with the multiple buttons that he used frequently to read entries from the Modern timelines, interrupting his light speed thoughts, bringing him back to the present, “It’s like Jii-jii and Jurou-san decided to reincarnate in one goat body…” Juro couldn’t help but laugh. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Juro shook his head, stretching his long arms up and growling softly at the back of his throat as he returned his focus to the rest of his intended tasks, "Right. Catch up on entries…" He pulled scrolls and devices towards him, supporting his weight against the table, and got to work.

The minutes passed, slowly turning into hours, daylight sliding across books and dust and inkwells as it filtered through the windows of the Library, only the workings of machinery and the scratch of pen heard for a long time. It was a picture of peace, just like the old days.

Juro reached for another black, flat box, fingers flying over the buttons all over its surface. The face of the box lit up brightly, its blue-white glow shining softly on his cheekbones. Text appeared from the light, and his amber eyes swept across quickly as he read them.

"Nothing out of place for Dario. Out for the weekend with friends as always. He has a show next week." 

Juro's lashes lowered. Jin's entry was right on time. They've been very regular as of late, particularly revolving around a certain seidkonur's partner, worrying and keeping an eye on him. The Worst Bookkeeper truly… he grinned to himself in reproach at the Modern Bookkeeper’s unabashed display of his affinity towards Yun and his life, but it wasn't a serious issue any longer, and more in amused surrender. After all, their neutrality was a choice--it was his that wasn’t. And it was exactly how he was reprimanded in his early Bookkeeper days as well.

His brow furrowed at the intrusive memory, gritting his teeth as he balled it up and threw it in the darkest corners of his mind as he always did. His fingers clicked away again on the buttons, and the light shifted into a different set of words. 

Binate World. A fairly new thread that appeared only a month ago. It wouldn’t have garnered such attention from Juro if it weren’t for two things: the timing, and the nature of the timeline. And he might have an idea of why.

He didn’t have as deep an understanding of other universes as either Yun or Milae, but he could still tell what generally happened. Two threads twisted into one, spawning two bookkeepers housing the same soul. Juro skimmed the entries from the timeline, a small laugh escaping him. The bookkeepers were young, and the way they wrote reflected it, wonder and awe seeping into their words as they learned how to string their sentences together in neutrality. They were growing fast, their world a mix of magic and mundane. They were already 8.

But there was still the question of when it happened that metaphorically raised a brow more. First, the Battle of the Jaw kicked off way earlier than it was supposed to, bringing a seidkonur all the way to the opposite side of the multiverse. Then, within days, the unnatural thread was created, seemingly out of nowhere. There's outside forces affecting these, I'm certain… His eyes lowered even further as he stared blankly at the entries, thoughts turning in his head. Immense power surges. Twisting threads. Disappearing marionettes and souls of the Court. Weaving of time and stories.

Golden eyes and a creeping darkness.

"I can't think of anyone else but her. It must be Frigga…"  Juro’s lips barely moved when he commented, his eyes going out of focus.

The sounds of the Library became muted, like a veil was hung in the dimension where it existed within the Golden thread. Light and shadows began to melt together through his vision, becoming more hazy and indecipherable. The pen in his hand was still. Stringy shadows streaked across his line of vision. The Library disappeared.

Juro found himself in a bottomless abyss peppered with stars, standing on nothing, hearing nothing, feeling nothing. Across from him was a large, arch shaped shadow that hung from an unseen ceiling. He could barely make out the chains that wrapped around it, then shot outwards in millions of directions in a horrible scrape of metal sounds. 

A small lonely figure stood in between him and the shadow, faced away from him, yet he knew who she was, with her light locks and bare feet.

“You’re a fucking mess, aren’t ya…”

Her voice bounced around in echoes, filling up the entire space, doubling, cycling, amplifying. Chains began straining against the dome, moving and pulling across space. She spoke again.

“All this power you sealed, uncontrolled, creating problems that you can just solve on your own if you would just accept it and learn… but you don’t want that, do ya?”

Several of the chains began to glow blue then gold, and his mouth opened in a voiceless scream at the sight, crying desperately for the light to stop, to keep the lines intact.

“You’re ashamed of who you were, and you want to erase yourself by locking it all up. You detach from anything that could cause you pain, and disguise it under neutrality. You’re addicted to this solitude. You want it. You need it.”

The child turned to face him finally, but her face was void of any features, a creepy mask of smooth skin and porcelain. Her movements were choppy, unarticulated, inhuman. Her cadence was different.

“You’re trapped, yet you have the key.”

It burst into a chaotic twist of dark lines and threads from behind her, tensing and pulling to its most extreme without snapping. The space around Juro flickered violently, the space phasing in and out of reach in two, three, four, five waves, threatening to rip at the seams, streaking past the girl and heading straight for him, wrapping itself around his limbs and torso and body and face in that familiar, terrifying way. His right side pulsed.

“So many new lines to trace, new stories to collect... and their words…. words are so important,”  a different voice whispered in his ear, and his body seized, the sound crawling everywhere on his skin, the dialogue sounding familiar but incorrect, like they were spoken by the wrong lips. Light left his eyes as he stared blankly before him, unseeing. Another chain glowed with his colours.

“...fā vald ađ rifa örlagaröđina,” he replied to seemingly nobody, his voice a hollow sound.

”That’s right, darling,” the voice remained soft, “You know the importance of words and stories. Then maybe…”

It was inside his head now, “...maybe you can rewrite yours.”

The echoes of metal links and soft voices came to an abrupt stop. 

Complete silence.

Darkness faded back into the Library as cog, wheel, and hum returned. The second hand of a clock ticked once more. The late afternoon light filtered through the windows again. Everything was still in place.

Juro was staring wordlessly before him, unaware, like there was no alarming bend of space that glimmered around him. With an accompanying sigh, his eyes slowly, finally came to a full close, lashes slipping over amber in one smooth motion. He fell sideways, his knees buckling and collapsing towards the ground until he hit something soft and feathery. His golem caught him in its wings with a worried caw, as his arm dropped to the side, pen rolling out of his fingers onto the wooden floor as he laid within his golem, unmoving. 

Virion crooned again in concern, but relaxed when it realized that his breath was steady, “Sorry Vir… I’m… suddenly… really tired…” Juro could only mumble under his breath, sinking into the sea of blue and white. 

He had fallen fast asleep.

It was quiet once more in the Library.

[dabidevito]

[fic] rules for lovers

rating: t | wc: 1.1k

summary | pride colours: an interpretation. title + lyrics taken from rules for lovers - richard walters 

written for @phandomficfests pride flash fest 🏳‍🌈

read on ao3 or continue under the cut:

the sound, the size of truth, of lies a kick, a word unsaid, unheard who decides the rules for lovers?

___________

The shape of him is the most familiar one you know. You know him inside and out and upside-down and backwards, with your hands and your eyes, lips and tongue and heart. You know every one of his smiles and the lines etched into his face and the freckles dotted like stars across his skin.

He lays himself bare for the whole world to see but when he’s pressed against your skin he whispers it’s always been you like a sacred promise.

(And you believe him, you’ve always believed him.)

-

Today, here is what you know:

You know that red is for the life you built together, years and years all piling on top of one another until you began measuring time in decades instead of minutes. Red is his pulse thrumming under his skin where his body touches yours, where you forget your own ending in his beginning. The spines of the photobooks are soft and stretched and marked red with loving hands, marked with stories told tandem in two voices.  Red is the beating of your own heart in your chest, thump-thump, thump-thump, steady and slow under the press of his palm while you sleep.

You know that he is alive, and he is yours.

-

You know that orange is for all the shattered parts, for the way you held out tape and glue and string for him to piece himself back together. Orange is the way you tried to take the sharpest thorns for yourself, would bleed any colour for him if it meant he’d sleep easier at night.

(But he can’t stand to watch you bleed, either.)

You were made to be whole together, the universe made you each half a man and then sent you into its depths to find your other part. He pushed while you pulled, the sea against the moon, and the whole world marveled at the way he created radiance out of blackness.

You know that he is healing, and he is yours.

-

Oh god, how you know him in every possible shade of yellow! You know him drenched in golden summer sun, you’ve lost yourself tracing constellations into his skin while his laughter fills every hollow of your heart. He tastes like sweat and expensive sun cream, his pulse races fast and strong under your tongue and you - you love him, desperate and unashamed.  

You know him in the pale, daffodil-toned morning, know the curve of his body against yours while he sleeps and the gentle sounds he makes while he wakes. You know the way the sheets, the flat, the whole of your existence is warmed because of him. You’ve forgotten how to not wake up next to him and now there’s nothing else except that you love him, quietly and peacefully.

You know him in yellow so bright that it’s hard to look at him, but you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. He’s got flowers in his hair and paint in his cuticles and you have known him through all the days where being yellow was nothing more than a distant illusion. You love him, you love him, you love him. This is what you know.

-

You know that green is for your future, for a home and a life that is just within your reach. You know this because you’ve glimpsed it in the dark of night, your dreams show you the lush, thick grass and the leaves in the spring and the life clawing its way up out of the dirt. Life that you poured your own being into, your hands turned the earth while he played Chopin for you through the open window.

It’s a sad song, you tell him, leaning on the windowsill and sipping spiked Ribena while the sweat gathers at the nape of your neck.

It’s not, he says, it’s about coming home, and the A-flats follow you into your waking hours.

Your entire universe spins around him. This is what you know.

-

You know that blue is forty-five minutes and twenty-nine seconds long.

You know the way he clings to you, fully clothed and too-warm under the weight of the duvet, the fan on high to drown out the buzzing in both your heads as well as the incessant notifications locked on the other side of the bedroom door. Blue is the way he cries against your chest, happy and overwhelmed and terrified. Blue is his ragged voice saying you’re crushing me when it’s the forty-fourth minute, almost time to go. You try to loosen your grip but you just can’t, you want to crawl into his skin and protect his baby bird heart along with all the pieces of yourself that he keeps there.

Blue is the forty-sixth minute, walking hand-in-hand up the stairs on shaky legs to face a new world.

He stands tall with the bravery of millions, and he is yours.

-

Violet is the colour he wears when you marry him. You know this, you’ve got the namesake flower pinned above your heart but the sight of him draped in it still takes your breath away. He is bright and open and wearing the smile that you’ve come to think of as your smile, the one he doesn’t give away to anyone but you. Your hands shake terribly but he steadies them against his own, steadies your entire being with the way he looks at you under the April sun.

Violet is the colour of the vows you say, the paraphrased and ad-libbed version of the ones you wrote down because you couldn’t bear to let go of him long enough to pull the paper out of your jacket pocket. You remember the important parts though, the four thousand yellow mornings and another twenty thousand or so green ones stretched out in front of you. Two red strings entwined throughout an entire lifetime, stitched and mended with threads of orange in the places where they were thin and torn. The cloak of blue you both wear proudly, you’ve wrapped your entire life in the colour and let it propel you here, to this exact moment.

This is what you know: it’s right. You love him in every iteration and every timeline and every lifetime, you have a soul painted in streaks of colour and there is no version of you that exists without him.

It’s right.

It’s right.

It’s right.

__________

the hand, the heart an end, a start

who decides the rules for lovers?

(you and i) (we choose each other)

[azaisya]

stars in our veins

I have a modern fantasy au?? I don’t want to post this to ao3 bc my timeline has changed but , , , i still like it and also the Peredhil kids and Aragorn are Good

Whispers shifted at the edges of Aragorn's consciousness, pulling him from the dark mists of his dreams. With great reluctance, he found himself awake.

Brow furrowing, Aragorn twisted in his blankets, instinctively reaching for his girlfriend. When his fingers grasped nothing but empty sheets — startlingly cool despite the warm night — Aragorn sat up, blinking bemusedly in the dusky light.

New York — eternally awake, even when in the throes of night — glittered faintly beyond the gauzy white curtains that covered the windows. The quiet felt pervasive and unnatural; it felt as if a haze had fallen over the normal honking and nightlife of the city.

Aragorn had just opened his mouth to call for Arwen — their apartment wasn't very big, after all — when he heard her voice, lowered to a whisper.

"—won't tell Ada, and that's why you're here, isn't it?"

Another voice, lower and indistinctive, responded. Aragorn's frown deepened. That vice, muffled though it was, tugged at something in his memories, like a once beloved dream.

Arwen's soft murmur sharpened into something more dangerous. "I said I wouldn't. But I still think you should tell him."

Another indistinct reply sounded, different from the first but still eerily similar. It was like listening to an echo, or a memory.

"I don't care," Arwen's gentle voice replied, "He worries. He deserves to know that you're still alive."

With mounting concern, Aragorn kicked his legs over the side of the bed and padded silently into the living room. The shadows in the apartment seemed to come alive at this time of night, twisting and fumbling and seeking to tear themselves away and join their fellows in the night sky.

It's the witching hour, Arwen always said, voice glittering with traces of star-bright laughter.

Without a sound, he poked his head through the hall, seeking his girlfriend's dark hair and summer-blue night gown. He found her easily, a brilliant wisp of a dream in the quaint lamplight of their almost painfully mundane living room. She sat on the arm of the couch, bent over another figure, her pale fingers flashing as she wrapped a strip of gauze around pale flesh.

For a second, Aragorn thought he was seeing double. Two seemingly young men sat perched on the couch, long limbs sprawled carelessly on the suede. They were raven-haired and fair of face, with slate-grey eyes and danger in their footsteps. There was a strange feyness to the slant of their eyes and the overwhelming grace of their bodies, a trait they shared with the lovely girl standing over them.

But unlike Arwen, there was a haggardness to their faces, a terrible sickliness that seemed to cling to their bones and seep from their pores.

Aragorn knew them both, knew their every mood and jibe, and their state both startled and worried him.

Now content that Arwen hadn't summoned a demon while he'd been sleeping, Aragorn entered the room fully, scuffing his heels on the floor as he did so.

Arwen looked up, the movement bird-like in its abruptness, and her lips twitched into their customary smile: brief but genuine, like the moon at its height.

But the twins reacted as if they'd seen a ghost, faces paling and jaws falling slack. "Estel?" Elladan asked, puzzled, "What are you doing here?"

Aragorn leaned against the couch beside Arwen, dismayed at seeing the bloody cuts that covered both twins. The first-aid kit was propped open on Elrohir's lap, and the younger twin twisted around to stare at Aragorn.

Arwen made a clicking sound in the back of her throat. "Don't move unless you want me to make this hurt."

Elrohir dropped back into his previous position, watching Arwen warily as she stitched up a particularly bad cut on his arm.

"What happened to you two?!" Aragorn demanded, shocked. He'd grown up sparring with the twins, and he'd never seen them with anything worse than minor bruises.

Elladan, who was not being tended to and thus could move however he wished, swiveled his head to stare at Aragorn, fathomless grey eyes narrowing. "Why are you here?"

"I live here," Aragorn replied patiently, already reaching for the alcohol swabs to clean the cuts on Elladan's face. "Now tell me what happened."

Elladan was as poor a patient as ever, twisting out of the way when Aragorn tried to clean his face. "But why do you live here?"

Arwen finished her task and fixed her oldest brother with a sharp stare. "I'd like to know what happened as well."

Elladan ducked under Aragorn, who mumbled something inappropriate under his breath, and protested, "But, Arwen, why is Estel living with you?"

For the first time that night, the vicious creature that dwelt beneath Arwen's skin was revealed. Eyes piercing, she smiled deliberately, teeth suddenly sharp beneath her thin lips. "Elladan."

Elladan immediately sat still, and Aragorn happily began cleaning the grime from his cuts. Stripped from his humor and bristling, he felt suddenly brittle, as fragile as a fledgling fallen from the nest. His skin felt papery beneath Aragorn's fingers, and he frowned to see the thin black threads — like forgotten shadows — that twisted beneath Elladan's skin.

Elrohir shifted until he was at his twin's side, gaze oddly defiant. "We've been putting to right what is wrong."

Aragorn tossed his swab into the trash and replied warily, "Righting wrongs is not always your right." He knew his brothers, knew how quick to anger they were.

They made a sorry sight, sitting on the couch with their marble skin marred by strange cuts and all-too-human bandages. Darkness lurked beneath their eyes, and there was a stalwart defiance in the sets of their shoulders. But exhaustion exuded from them both in waves, and Elladan seemed nearly sick with it.

There were those who said Elrohir was the gentler of the twins.

They would be wrong.

Elrohir's lips drew back into a feral snarl, and a streak of raven feathers erupted across his skin. "We did not come here to be judged by you!" The feathers faded, and his skin returned to its unnatural whiteness. The cuts that Arwen had not covered stood out, starkly scarlet against his star-pale flesh. "By either of you," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Of the three blood siblings, Arwen had always been the intellectual one. Elladan and Elrohir were the ones with their souls forged in flames; Arwen had always belonged to the stars, distant and cold. "Yes, but you came anyways and knew we would.” She paused, considering, and amended, “Or, you knew I would. You didn’t know Aragorn was here. Tell us what happened, El."

Elrohir looked down, unexpectedly chastised by the childish nickname. Aragorn seized the lull in the conversation and extended his hands towards the younger twin, fingers brushing feather-light above his injuries. A power — as natural and unexplainable as the universe itself — shifted, pooling at Aragorn's fingers and spilling into Elrohir. The burning of his cuts calmed, and his flesh knitted itself back together.

Elladan raised his head to look at his sister, allowing her to see the emotions that stormed beneath his glassy grey eyes. "We need somewhere safe to stay, Arwen."

There was history in those words, history that Aragorn didn't understand, and he paused in his work to frown at his girlfriend.

A shadow passed over her face, and her voice was carefully neutral when she spoke. "You've been hunting the Corrupted?"

Elrohir felt the shock that lanced through Aragorn at those words, and his eyes flashed fleetingly to him. "It's not as bad as she makes it sound."

"No," Aragorn agreed, "It's not. It's worse." He drew his hands away, for his hands were shaking now, and he didn't want the healing bond to be active when he was so distressed. "The Corrupted are twisted abominations of that which was fairest. They’re dangerous." There was some resentment in his tone, just the barest whisper of anger. He loved the twins, but he would forever be angry with them for vanishing without a trace on his eighteenth birthday, taking nothing but the clothes on their backs and the ceremonial longswords that hung in Elrond's study.

Elrond had been shattered to discover his sons had left, vanished into the night as they had decaded prior, and Aragorn had missed them terribly.

A bright light — foul and foreign — entered Elrohir's eyes, and he insisted, "We're dangerous too, Estel! Elladan and I— it is our sacred duty to keep the streets free of those monsters."

"But you needn't vanish for years on end!" Aragorn said abruptly, louder than he'd intended to.

Both twins flinched, for Aragorn so rarely raised his voice. He'd always been a happy child, and he'd grown into a noble adult.

"You don't understand!" Elrohir cried, making to stand. But Elladan grabbed his arm and kept him down.

"We have other people to fight," Aragorn protested. "Glorfindel has always kept the peace in Imladris—"

"But Imladris' borders don't even reach Maine," Elladan said quietly, "And Glorfindel cannot protect everybody."

Confused, Aragorn asked, "So you take it upon yourselves to singlehandedly hunt down all of the Corrupted?"

"If that is what it takes to protect innocents, then yes," Elrohir snapped.

Frustrated, Aragorn demanded, "Do you know how many of them there are on the East Coast alone?"

Arwen's voice, soft but powerful, cut through their argument. "Naneth died to give us a second chance."

The twins flushed angrily and, for a second, something foreign and ugly and dangerous filled their eyes. Elladan exclaimed, "And we're taking it by avenging her!"

Arwen's eyes flashed, and something very old awoke within her. "She didn't die so you could waste your souls on something as foul as revenge! Did you learn nothing from Ada's lessons? Would you honor her memory by squandering your souls on killing?"

"What else would you have us do?!" Elrohir cried, voice cracking. "Go to a school that can teach us nothing? Buy an apartment in New York? Live with our little brother?"

Arwen stood still as a statue, but there was something darkly angry under her passive expression. "Aragorn is not my bother. I was not raised with him, and what little blood we share has been diluted enough that I don't care. I don't care if you think college is useless! I'm not telling you to live my life. I'm telling you to live. You deserve so much better than devoting your life to vengeance."

Aragorn murmured, "Ada will be happy to see you again. He hasn't been the same since you left."

Something crumpled beneath Elladan's eyes. "I- I don't know if I can do that," he whispered, and everybody in the room noted his switch from we to I.

"You can," Arwen said fiercely, reaching forwards and grasping his hands, "You can let go of your anger and your revenge and even your oath!"

Elladan just stared miserably at her. "You don't understand," he said, but the words were weaker than before. "We've spent so many years hunting. If we give up now, what was it all for?"

Elrohir cut off whatever Arwen had been about to say, eyes blazing. "We can't just stop! We swore an oath, Arwen!"

"Then break it," she replied, matter-of-factly.

Elrohir's lips curled into a sneer. "You don't understand."

"But I do!" Arwen exclaimed, her frustration finally breaking her calm mask. Something swift tore across her face, and she leaped from the couch and turned away from them. "You don't! I loved Nana just as much as you did, but I don't go on a massacre because she died!" She turned abruptly, star-bright eyes suddenly glittering with tears. "Can't you see that you're doing nothing but hurting everybody?"

Taken aback, Elrohir could only stare. Aragorn scowled at his brothers, and raised his head to look at Arwen. He felt her mind, feather-light, touch upon his, and he sent a wave of reassurance to her. The panic in her eyes faded a little, but she didn't stop crying.

Elladan slowly stood, and it didn't escape Aragorn's notice that he was favoring his right leg. "Oh, no, don't cry." Dismayed, he tried to step forwards, but Arwen stopped him with a look. "Arwen, please. We're sorry. I'm sorry. I just—" He trailed off, clearly miserable.

Quietly, Elrohir murmured, "I'm sorry too." He looked sheepishly from his blood sister to his foster brother. "We've been idiots, haven't we?"

"Yes!" Arwen cried, tearfully furious, "You need to grieve, not kill." She sniffed and rubbed at her eyes.

Aragorn perched on the opposite side of the couch and asked, "You'll stop disappearing now?"

Elrohir shrugged. "We'll try. We can't break our oath."

Aragorn only knew bits and pieces of the twins's story. He'd picked up hints and whispers and sorrow from his foster father and from Arwen, and it horrified him to learn that his brothers had truly sworn to wipe out the Corrupted.

"But you can visit home more often," he suggested, tactfully not mentioning the last three years that had passed without a word from either twin.

"Or not bring swords to Thanksgiving," Arwen added, "And . . . I know I cannot ask you to break your oath. Just . . . please don’t be so reckless." She alighted on the suede, hair fanning out on the back of the couch, and Aragorn instinctively reached out to rest his hand o her shoulder.

Elladan closed his eyes. "I don't know if we can stop, Arwen."

"You can," she said decisively, "Hunting the Corrupted is not a bad thing, El. But to do so out of hate? For revenge? That will destroy your souls."

Both twins flinched and Aragorn's eyes widened. "It has, hasn't it?" His grey eyes suddenly flashed silver, and the sleep-mussed human man that had been sitting there moments ago was replaced by something otherworldly. To his eyes, Arwen gleamed with starlight. She was pure and beautiful and whole; she belonged here. But the twins. . . .

Their souls were torn nearly to ribbons, blackened feathers drifting from pale strings that strained to hold skin onto bones and life onto flesh.

Horrified, Aragorn reached out. "You can't Phase anymore, can you?" His fingers touched Elladan's knee, lightly, and the older twin flinched as though struck. Milky light streamed from Aragorn into Elladan, soothing the rifts in his soul.

Elladan relaxed against the couch, eyes fluttering shut. "Estel, we haven't been able to Phase since Nana died."

Arwen shuddered and ran her hands over her bare arms. "I can't imagine being trapped in my own skin."

Elladan cracked one eye open. "It's not fun," he said miserably.

Aragorn maneouvred around Arwen to repeat the process with Elrohir. Elrohir protested at first, but Aragorn firmly placed his hands on the younger twin's shoulders. "I've gotten better since last time," he said mildly, "I won't turn your skin blue."

"As if I'd trust you," Elrohir said, his voice trembling with the memory of the banter they'd once had.

Aragorn flashed a brief smile, unsure if he had forgiven his brothers yet, and sent his power into Elrohir. The younger twin immediately sighed and fell limply against Elladan, eyes slipping shut as well.

Arwen unfolded herself from where she sat, eyes lidded with exhaustion. "They'll fall asleep soon," she murmured.

"That's good," Aragorn replied, holding his arms out to her. "They need healing, and lots of it. How long have they been hunting?"

Arwen threw herself at him, her form shifting into a raven halfway through her leap. He caught her and held her close to his chest, taking comfort in her familiar feathers. In his mind, she said, Too long.

"That's true enough," he agreed, checking one last time to make sure the twins were alright. They were both sound asleep, expressions peaceful for the first time that night. "They'll need Ada to see to their souls. I'm not sure if they'll ever be whole enough to Phase again."

In his arms, Arwen trembled, and he ran his fingers over the soft feathers on her head. They wouldn't have come to us if they hadn't been injured. Their promises tonight might just be their exhaustion.

"I'll text Ada in the morning," Aragorn said decisively, turning to head back to the bedroom, "And I'm linked to them right now. I'll notice if they leave."

They'll be angry, she murmured, They've spent so long avoiding any sort of comfort.

Aragorn shrugged. Arwen shifted and took to the air. By the time she hit the bed, she was human again, her night-dress stained pitch black, and she curled up in the covers and closed her eyes.

Smiling softly at her, Aragorn settled in beside her. "They'll be alright though," he murmured, burying his face in her hair, "We won't let them fall into darkness again."

She turned to grasp his hand, and he could feel the stars beneath her skin. "Not ever again."

(The Peredhil are shape-shifters in this world. Aragorn, who’s descended from Elros, isn’t able to Phase like Arwen can because his “other” blood is too diluted by “human” blood, but he has enough “otherness” to heal)