#usual lady gazing at him as he thinks about boats or his wife

[paniniseller]

[smallraindrops-blog]

To Have And To Hold

Hypnos x female!reader

Word count: 2k

Part One

Warning:War, dead people and children, Ares ( let be real, that guy is a warning all on his own) kissing and sexual themes, no beta

The shade that came in the library was polite but clearly overwhelmed from their work. They handed over the letter quickly and gave a bow before hurrying out.

You pushed aside your own paperwork, "Lady Athena?" You asked out loud to no one but yourself. You typically only get letters from your sisters or parents.

You carefully opened it, a sense of dread unfolded in your chest.

'Dear Y/N.

I wish I was writing to you in better times. Unfortunately, I must keep this letter short. I'm in need of your help, desperately.

I can explain more when I see you. When you reach the surface, call for me.

Athena'

You ran out the library, uncaring about leaving scrolls on the tables.

You made it to the East wing and you glanced to Achilles, only to see empty space. You paused for a second then you heard it, crying and countless voices together begging and yelling.

What in the world...

"Silent!" Hades boomed and a harsh bark followed. The house quieted down, only soft sobs remained.

You walked in slowly and couldn't stop the gasp. You had never seen so many shades all in one place and you even saw some standing in the Styx.

You saw Achilles in front of Hades' desk, facing the crowd. His normally kind face was cold and his grip on the spear was tight.

Hades stood up, "Silent." He repeated. Queen Persephone and Zagreus stood next to Hades, both their faces unable to hide the worries they felt.

"Thanatos, please continue."

"Lord Ares has gone mad with war lust. Hermes nor I can keep up with the amount of dead. And as I speak, Ares and Eris are tearing through another city." Thanatos' tone was hard and flat.

You swallowed, unable to believe what you were hearing.

"What has Zeus done to step in?" Hades asked warily.

"He has yet to do so, lord Hades." Thanatos replied.

Hades opened his mouth but a shade broke past the group. "Please, you have to help us! They will follow us even in death, it won't ever stop!"

"Didn't I tell you to be silent!? And Ares can't come here, no matter how hard he tries."

The shade shook their head, "No, not him-" the other shades joined, all begging and more crying started.

"Be quiet, all of you!"

Zagreus spoke up, "Wait, we should hear them out, Father."

"No. We have bigger problems." Hades rubbed his forehead."Thanatos, give this letter to Hermes. The sooner we can put Ares and his friend down the better."

There was a moment of silence after Thanatos vanished.

You took a shaky breath, and looked around to find Hypnos. You heard him speak in his cheerful voice before you saw him, "Well, alrighty. That sure was something, huh? Line up! Come on everyone, and mind the little ones."

He wasn't in his usual spot but a little past Hades' desk along with Dusa and several workers shades. You walked over, "Hypnos."

He looked up at your voice, his eyes widened in alarm. He dropped the quill and paper he was holding. "How much of that did you see?" He whispered.

"Enough." You whispered back. "I got a letter from Athena, they need my help."

"What?" He asked in a strangled whisper. You showed him the letter. He read the letter once, his face blank.

You waited for a response, frowning at his unreadable face.

Then he folded up the letter calmly as he met your gaze, "No. Absolutely not. I will not allow you to go." He said softly.

"Hypnos!" You replied, no longer staying quiet. "You have no right to tell me what to do." You reached for the letter but he held it out of reach.

"Blood and Darkness." Hades cursed. "We do not need your marital disputes in the great hall especially now. Leave."

You flushed, realizing you could feel eyes on you. Hypnos grabbed your arm gently, "Oh of course, Lord Hades. Don't worry, I will be back shortly after I handle this." Hypnos said pleasantly, " What was the saying? Happy wife, happy life? But hey why am I telling you? You know all about that."

Hades glared down at the both of you and you desperately wished for a hole to swallow you whole.

Before you could apologize for Hypnos' lack of tact, he vanished you along with him.

You looked around, trying to push away the nausea. Thankfully he had chosen to reappear just outside of your bedchambers.

You turned on him, "For blood's sake what was that about Hypnos?"

"Can we talk in your chambers? Or the library, whichever one you want." He asked, sounding guilty.

Good, you thought viciously.

"Oh so I do get a say in something then? Or will you be 'handling' that too?" You snapped at him. You pushed out your door, not bothering to invite Hypnos in. You stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed.

Hypnos closed the door behind him quietly. "I'm sorry but Lady Athena will have to do without your help if it means you have to go to the surface. I cannot let you go up there."

"That is my decision, not yours." You shook your head. "I have to go."

"Didn't you hear how Ares has gone mad? That guy is crazy on a good day, let alone whatever is happening now." Even with the guilty look on his face, Hypnos shook his head. "You have never even seen a war, have you? It's not a pretty sight."

"We don't even know what she needs help with, I doubt I will be anywhere near a battlefield. She knows I'm not a warrior."

"The fact you have to even be on the surface is too much." Hypnos floated over to you but didn't touch you, his hands spread out. "War isn't predictable. One person's decision can cost other people's their lives, well beyond the battlefields. And it never ever ends up the way leaders plan for it to."

You stayed quiet, looking down at the ground. You couldn't get your mind off the letter even with Hypnos’ reasoning. Athena wouldn't ask for anything unless she truly needed it.

"Y/N, please look at me." Hypnos lifted your chin up, your eyes flicked toward his before you made yourself look away.

"I would give you anything if it made you happy, you know that." Hypnos spoke carefully. "You can help Lady Athena, I'm not saying you can't but you need to do it from here. There is no point in risking your safety."

Hypnos waited for you to respond only to sigh when you shook your head, too upset to speak.

"Send a letter to Athena, and I will help out too, love. Okay?" Hypnos' eyes studied your face.

"Can't you just come with me?" You asked, hating how your voice cracked at the end. "If you're so worried."

"No, I am needed here and I'm doubtful I would be a welcomed face." Hypnos gave a slight grin, "Besides, I already won the last war when I got you as my wife."

he looked at you so softly, it made you blush. You pulled away, you will not let Hypnos sweet talk you. “Oh, yes. Just remind me of another time I was mad at you. That will work out for you.”

“I-i just-“ Hypnos chuckled but he was clearly unamused. “Obviously I have a case of foot in mouth. Y/N, I just want you to be safe. Am I wrong to want my wife to be safe?”

You glared at him, “Well obviously not, Hypnos. Don’t play that game with me.”

Hypnos glared back, both of you silently glaring at each other. Hypnos broke first and rubbed his eyes with a frustrated sigh. You resisted the urge to walk over and smooth away the weight you could see on him.

When Hypnos looked back at you, you didn’t expect the serious look in his face, “Just promise me something.”

“What?” You watched him warily, not used to this reaction from him.

“You won’t try to leave without me. If- and that is a very big if by the way, we have to go up to help whoever, you won’t go where I can’t keep an eye on you.” Hypnos said, his golden eyes stayed on your face.

“I’m not a child, Hypnos.” You muttered.

“I know that. But you have never been in a war and I have and I know how ugly it gets. I hope I am overreacting, really I am.” Hypnos came closer again, “Just promise me. Please.”

“I-i but.. Fine. Okay, I promise.” You said. You glanced at Hypnos and upon seeing the relief on his face, you turned away, guilt

“Just… give me some alone time, okay?” You said, unable to hide how upset you were.

He was quiet for a few minutes. “Alright. I will have tonight’s dinner sent for you. I will check in on you later, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed, staring at the wall. "Thank you."

Hypnos looked at you a moment, a hand reached up for a second before falling back down, before he left.

You pushed down the guilt you felt, Hypnos was the one in the wrong for not helping you.

You paced around the room, biting your lip nervously as you tried to think.

You couldn't take the path Zagreus does, and you weren't sure if he would or could help you. You didn't have a boat and from the looks of it Charon wouldn't have space anyway.

And Cerberus was…

You groaned and covered your face.

You were efficiently trapped, the realization caused the fading anger at Hypnos to come roaring back.

You sat down on the bed when a knock came. "Y/N? C-can I come in?" Dusa's voice was normally a welcomed thing but right now you don't think you can stomach being around others.

But it wasn't Dusa' fault you told yourself.

You opened the door and she floated in. "Are you okay? I kinda saw what happened in the hall."

You shook your head and explained everything. You reached for the letter only to remember that Hypnos still had it. "Blood and darkness Hypnos." you muttered. You couldn't believe he was treating you like a child.

Dusa was quiet for a few moments. "Well actually, I might know a way. It is the same way Queen Persephone took to return here. She doesn't have to travel the same way everyone else does."

Hope lifted in your chest. "Do you know if Cerberus would be there?"

"Far as I know, he wouldn't be near there since Queen Persephone is here." Dusa frowned with worry, "But you know how dangerous it is, right? Meg told me stories about the last war and the kind of people she had to punish for their acts during it."

"I have to go. My family could be at risk. Can you cover for me? Just a little bit."

Dusa stared at you. "Just promise me you will be careful okay? And if anyone asks, even Hypnos, I won't lie okay?"

You hugged her. "Thank you!"

"Just please be careful." Dusa muttered.

~~

The snow was still there, unmarked and soft. You took a breath, the sharp, freezing air hurt your lungs but it felt amazing.

You weren’t sure if the hallway Queen Persephone took would work for you but thankfully it had just been an unusually long and winding hallway.

When you got back, you were planning on telling Zegreus about it. Let's see Hades do anything about that.

You watched the snowfall, gentle and pure, with a sigh. You tugged your travel cloak tighter, the last time you wore this was during your wedding.

It wasn't the same place you and Hypnos had gotten married. But seeing the snow brought memories. Of the fear, of how you almost stumbled over your vows, how Hypnos' hand holding yours was the only warm thing you could feel. Of the nervous yet serious look on his face when you both said the final vow…

You shook your head, finding your resolve. You glanced back at the opening, guilt rising in you.

And hurt.

You thought Hypnos would understand, it was your family. He was normally so big on family, bending over backward for his own family. You thought he would support you. You swallow and with one last look back, you step out into the snow.

It took you a moment but with the deepest breath you could take, you called for Athena.

Almost immediately, a warm golden light filled the field.

Athena was just tall and golden as you remembered. She didn't smile but she took your hands in her own, "Thank you. I must admit I was worried you wouldn't come."

You decided not to mention your disagreement with Hypnos as you tried to give a comforting smile.

"Of course, I am more than happy to help. But I am a bit lost on what I could offer for you." You watched her sighed and moved away.

"What I am about to ask of you is no small favor. If you wish to have no part of this, I will understand." Athena said gravely.

You nodded. "Let me decide."

After she studied your face for a moment, Athena spoke.

[solinarimoon]

A Song for the Sea

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

Pairing: Finan x OFC

Warnings: some violence, held against their will, forced marriage, hints of abusive relationship

~ ~ ~ ~

Her eyes were like the sea before a storm. Blue and green marbling together. They spoke to him. Of depths hidden under their surface. Of secrets and sadness. 

Finan could not keep his eyes from searching for her.  He yearned to fall captive to their stare once more. 

While walking through the street of Coccham, his eyes were roving every face for a glimpse of those startling eyes.  

Osferth at his side, they meandered through the market expecting that they would find them looking to replenish supplies for their journey. 

~~~~~

Muireann and her husband, Cael had docked at Coccham a few days prior. 

Upon their arrival, Cael asked to speak with the Lord Uhtred.  He claimed to be a trader of fur and wished to stay on in the burg a few days while a storm that was following them passed. 

He had a large amount of seal skin pelts he was willing to trade for the lord's permission. 

Uhtred agreed to allow them safe harbor. 

After showing them to the town’s tavern where they could pay for a room for a few nights, Uhtred informed his men that Cael and his wife were to be watched closely. He did not get an honest feeling from them. Sihtric and Osferth both agreed with their lord's appraisal of their new visitors. Finan was glad he was not alone in his judgements either.

Cael had a sly demeanor and Uhtred’s first impression was that he was either a spy (though for whom he did not know) or was looking to cheat the good people of Coccham out of their money. As a young man, Uhtred had experience with men such as these. They were not to be trusted. Several pieces of their story did not sit well with the men. Why was a trader traveling with only himself and his wife?  And by boat? 

Then there was the fact that Muireann kept her head down and was completely subservient to her husband. Finan knew that many marriages worked in such a fashion but it was not something he ever enjoyed witnessing.  He firmly believed marriage should be a partnership.  He saw that exemplified in Uhtred and Gisela’s marriage.  The same could be said for Sihtric and his wife.  

Muireann did not appear to be a threat. Instead, she gave him the feeling that she had something to hide. Some secret kept hidden from the world. This sense became pronounced when Muireann took his outstretched hand to board the dock from their small trading boat. 

She had looked up as her feet hit the boards and their eyes locked. 

And Finan was lost. 

He could become lost in those stormy eyes for eternity and he would not have cared. 

She had taken a sharp inhale of breath when their eyes met. Finan knew that she had felt some connection. Some pull. There was a meaning to their meeting on that dock, suspended above the rising waters and murky depths. 

“Thank you…” she whispered, leaving her words hanging in the air like mist off the sea.

“Finan.  I am called Finan, lady.”

“Finan” She repeated.  And he could have listened to her lovely voice speak his name for 1,000 years.

“Muireann!” Cael spoke her name with a harsh bark.

Instantly, Muireann dropped Finan’s gaze and made a hasty apology.  She practically ran to her husband’s side as Uhtred escorted them to the tavern.

Finan watched her leave and felt his world shift.  He knew something had just changed for him.  And Muireann was the cause of that change.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Back at the market. 

It took several more minutes before Osferth and Finan spied Cael and Muireann at a stall on the far end of the market. Close to the harbor. This was likely so they could keep an eye on their boat and it’s content. Muireann’s gaze was constantly shifting to stare across the water.  As they approached, Finan watched her.  Her eyes continued to return to the water.  Her gaze betrayed a sense of yearning.  

“Our lord would like it if you and your wife could join us in the hall for supper.” Finan said as he approached Cael. “He knows you’ll be departing soon and wishes to send you off with full bellies.” His Irish brogue lilted. 

~~~~~~

The pair had stayed in the village tavern, paying for one of their upstairs rooms. For several nights, a strong storm had indeed blown through the harbor at Coccham.  In that time, one or more of Uhtred’s men had staked a claim drinking and cajoling with the other tavern guests. 

Everyone agreed that the couple gave them the sense of concealed secrets. What the men could not discern was if that secret would be of any importance to them or to Coccham.  

Finan had volunteered to be at the tavern more than the rest of the men. Sihtric had a family and much preferred spending his free time at home when they were not required to be traveling with Uhtred. And Osferth enjoyed the tavern but would have struck everyone as behaving oddly if he had hung around the tavern by himself. He was not one to drink unless with the rest of the men. 

Finan admitted to himself that he was happy to take most of the time at the tavern. The fact was he was desperate to see Muireann again and determine what spark her eyes had ignited in him. He could not shake the feeling that she needed him somehow. And he needed her. 

He felt a sense of urgency where she was concerned.They hadn’t said more than a few pleasantries to each other and yet…

Finan did not believe in destiny like Uhtred. Neither did he NOT believe in it. He had never felt the need to put much stock in it either way. But he found himself thinking about it now. On destiny and Muireann’s eyes. 

~~~~~~

Back at the market

“That is very generous of your lord. My wife and I would be honored to eat at his table. Please give him our regards.” 

“Yes please tell lord Uhtred and the lady Gisela that we look forward to it. Thank you, Finan” Muireann says while meeting his gaze. 

The pull was there once again. Just as strong as before. Finan had to stop himself from reaching out to her. Time had slowed and sounds around them had become muffled. 

Muireann was shaken from their reverie as her husband called her name. 

Cael had shifted to a further stall after giving a farewell to Osferth. Muireann dropped her head and folded her arms across herself as she said goodbye. 

“Coming,” she called to her husband.

She took a final glance at Finan and then shifted her eyes towards the harbor. There, several seals were perched on a rock. 

“That’s an odd sight,” Finan remarked. 

“We don’t usually have seals this far into the harbor. They prefer to stay upstream. Closer to the ocean.”

The seals seemed to be staring at Muireann and Finan. Their dark eyes watching. 

Muireann placed her hand on Finan’s arm, gaining his attention once more. 

“Thank you again for the dinner invitation. If there is ale there that my husband can enjoy then I will appreciate the company.”

“Is your husband not enough company for ya? And what has ale to do with it?” Finan did not know what prompted him to be so forward. But he simply couldn’t shake the feeling she needed help. And she did offer the cryptic information about ale.

“The amount of his company is not to my liking nor is the quality. He… he is not a kind man. In fact he can be cruel. But when he has enough ale, I can” 

But she was unable to finish that thought.  At that instant, Cael’s harsh voice broke through their conversation once more, “Muireann do not linger.” 

“I must go. I do not wish to anger him.” 

With that final comment and all its implications ringing in his head, Finan watched her walk to her husband. 

“So your husband is more tolerable when he’s full of ale.  We will have to ensure that he gets plenty to wet his palette then.” Finan thought to himself.  As he turned to rejoin Osferth and return to the great hall, he did not notice the seal's eyes following Muireann.                             

~~~~

Dinner that evening had gone harmlessly.

Uhtred kept up a lively conversation with Cael throughout the evening. They mainly spoke of travels and common places they had both visited.  The words spoken were amicable enough.  But it did not go unnoticed that Cael stifled any attempt Muireann had at joining in on conversation around the table.  

He would interrupt her or loudly bring the subject back around to himself.  When Gisela and Sihtric both attempted to make conversation with Muireann, Cael answered for her even as she opened her mouth to reply for herself.

The one mistake Cael made was to continue to drink.  Finan made every attempt to casually keep Caels cup full.  And the man did not protest.  As Ceal became inebriated, his controlling demeanor towards Muireann lessened.  He began to lose focus on details of his surroundings, like men do when they drink.  

Muireann, who had noticed what Finan was doing with Cael’s cup, even began to smile at the conversations around her.  Finan saw her shoulders begin to loosen and relax.  

“A song for the sea! That’s what Muireann calls it.  It’s a song sung to bless sea voyages.  She’s the voice of a goddess.”

Somehow the conversation had steered towards superstitions and rituals used in sea voyages.  Uhtred had recounted some of the rituals used by the Danes that were taught to him as a child.  This prompted Cael to drunkenly proclaim that Muireann’s voice would bless all his travels.

“Sing it for everyone, wife.”                      

“They do not wish to hear my song,” Muireann whispered.

“I do,” Finan said, across the table from her.

“Yes, please let us hear this magical song,” Gisela urged, smiling gently at Muireann.

Muireann had looked up to Finan after he spoke.  Their gaze was locked once again.  The edges of their reality began to blur and sounds became muffled once more.     

Cael placed his hand on Muireann’s shoulder, “You will sing it for us, wife.”  His words were a command.

Slowly, Muireann took a breath.  Her eyes were lowered to her lap. As she began to sing, she closed them. A haunting melody that stilled the commotion in the entire hall.  The breezes outside calmed and the waves crashed along the shores.  The seals jumped and danced in the spray.

“I see your face across the sea, 

you're in the waves surrounding me

I hear your voice call on the breeze,

 on the ship out on the ocean”

Slowly Muireann opened her eyes and gazed across the table.

At that moment, Finan knew.  He was captivated by this woman.  He felt it in every sinew of his being. 

She continued to sing closing her eyes or resting their gaze upon Finan.

“Sailing across the sea on a big ship on the ocean

The moon is rising in the East, the stars hang down around her

The bow is arrow to the hearts of the ones we wish to come to home to

But the newly-lit night directs this flight, singing 'The ocean road will guide you.'

I see your face across the sea, you're in the waves surrounding me

I hear your voice call on the breeze, on the ship out on the ocean

When I awake I'll cast my anchor down and dive below

I'll dive into my lover's arms and warm the ocean's cold

Across the sea into our homes, we'll meet again so soon

You'll be with me across the sea on the ship out on the ocean

I see your face across the sea, you're in the waves surrounding me

I hear your voice call on the breeze, on the ship out on the ocean

I see your face across the sea, you're in the waves surrounding me

I hear your voice call on the breeze, on the ship out on the ocean

On the ship out on the ocean, on the ship out on the ocean”                            

As Muireann’s gentle and soothing voice fades, so does the spell that held the hall entranced.  

“Your voice is a gift, Muireann.  Truly. Thank you for singing to us,” Gisela told her.

“Thank you, Lady.  I do not often sing for others.” Muireann replies as she returned her gaze down to her lap.  Throughout her song, if her eyes were not closed, they were connected to Finan’s.

Just then Cael snored.  He had fallen asleep, her song acting as a lullaby.  His head rested on the table while his hand still held his ale cup.

Everyone stifled their laughter and then continued to eat and talk. 

~~~~~

Slowly, the dinner began to come to an end.  Muireann kept sending uneasy glances at her husband.  Finally, she stood up and asked to excuse herself.  

“My husband will not move until dawn, I am afraid Lord.  He is a sound sleeper when drunk.  I feel this is a horrible way to ..” but her words had been cut off by Uhtred.

“Think nothing of it, Muireann.  He can sleep it off here.  I have guards positioned and no harm will come to him.”

“Thank you.  If you’ll excuse me then Lord Uhtred.  I will retire to the tavern.  I would like to rest before we depart in the morning.”

“Of course, lady.”

With that Muireann lifted herself from the table and walked towards the door.

Finan was standing by the doorway speaking with Sihtric before he went home to his family.  Sihtric had not missed the intensity between the trader's wife and his friend.  He cautioned his friend against making unnecessary enemies.  

“You don’t understand, Sihtric.  She is in peril.”

“Did she tell you that?  We all see that he is an ass.  She does not seem happy, but many women are unhappy with their marriage.  That does not mean she…”

Sihtric’s words are stopped as Muireann approaches them.  Both men have noticed her change in demeanor.  She breathed heavily and her eyes kept darting back to the still form of her husband.  

“Are you alright, Muireann?” Finan asked, his voice laced with concern.

“Finan, I… No I am…” She took a frantic breath.  “No, this may be my only chance.”  Muireann said.

“Only chance?” Sihtric questioned.

Muireann glanced at him then down to the ground.  

“Cael has something of mine.  Something precious.”  She drew her eyes up to Finan’s and spoke with more conviction.  “He holds it captive.  He has never given me even the slightest chance to retrieve it,” She spoke.  “But tonight, I will,” She finished.

Finan looks to Sihtric and then back to Muireann.  Those eyes like the sea.  He was drowning in them.

“We will do what we can to help you.” Finn did not know what to make of her words.  “We will do what we can to protect you.   Sihtric, keep watch on Cael and I will come with you Muireann.” Sihtric’s mouth had drawn to a tight line. He gave a short nod while looking past Muireann towards her husband. 

“Thank you.” She took Finan’s hand.

“Thank you both,” she gave Sihtric’s arm a squeeze.

Then she was past them and speeding to the tavern.  

Once they were at the tavern, Finan stood outside her door keeping watch.

He could hear her rummaging through their goods, turning over furniture, looking everywhere.  He also heard her speaking to herself frantically, in a language he did not know. After several minutes, she opened the door with tears pooling in her eyes.  

“It is not here.  It isn’t here” Muireann told him.  Her words were distraught.

Finan took her shoulders in his hands.  “Hey, hey.  I will help ya.  I will keep you safe”

Muireann was mumbling to herself.  Some words in English and others in that strange foreign tongue.  She did not hear him.

Finan grasped her chin gently in his hand and tilted her head to look up at him. “Muireann, , it will be alright.  I won’t let him harm you.  We will find it.” Finan shifted his palm to cup Muireaan’s cheek. His thumb made gentle strokes along the curve of her face. 

Muireann’s eyes brim with unshed tears. 

She took a long shaking breath and leaned into Finan’s hand. 

“I would have liked to have met you that day on the beach, instead of my husband. I do not think I would mind you holding me.”

“I do not understand. Muireann… help me understand,” Finan voiced with uncontrolled concern. He touched his forehead to hers. 

The moment was broken when the two heard Cael screaming in a voice hoarse from ale. 

“Muireann...Muireann!”

Muireann took a steadying breath then turned and walked down the stairs and out to meet Cael. He stood outside the tavern, breathing heavy and wavering as if standing on waves.  

Sihtric was running towards them attempting to keep himself between Cael and Muireann. He had a large bruise forming around one eye and a small line of blood mingled in his hair under his nose. 

“Where were you Muireann?” Cael barked at her. He did not attempt to reach her. The two warriors blocked his path. 

When she didn’t answer him, he spoke again. His voice quieter and with more malice. 

“Where were you?”  

Muireann brought her eyes to meet his gaze.  She walked between the warriors and took two more steps towards Cael.  Still silent.

By now, Osferth and Uhtred were standing watching the wordless exchange take place as well.

Muireann kept her eyes locked with Cael.  

Then he understood.  

She was looking for it.

And that was when he made his second mistake that evening.  Upon instinct, Cael’s eye could not help but flit towards his carefully selected hiding place, the stables across the square.  

Muireann didn’t miss his look.  And she remembered him visiting the stables with Uhtred upon their arrival, claiming they may carry on their journey on foot.  He must have hidden it there.

Quick as lightening, Muireann had bolted towards the stables.  Equally as fast, shocking for someone so drunk, Cael lunged forward and grabbed her arm whipping her back.  The back of his hand connected with her cheek with a loud crack.

In the next instant, the men were in action.  

Sihtric and Finan restrained Cael but not before Finan placed a few well aimed blows to his gut.

Osferth ran to Muirann’s side and helped her rise to her feet.  She brought her hand to her temple and gripped Osferth’s arm to steady herself.

“ I will not tolerate someone to strike a woman in my presence,” Uhtred spoke.

“Just let me take my wife and we will leave.  You will need never see us again.”

“I will not leave with you,” Muireann spat.

“You must. I hold you. Your will cannot overcome it” Cael spat back.

“Of what do you speak? You hold her?” Uhtred asked.

“She can never leave me. I …” Cael began.

His words were stopped short as Muireann drew a blade across his throat.

As Uhtred had gathered Cael’s attention from her, Muireann had grabbed the dagger from Finan’s belt.

Sihtric and Finan dropped Cael and the warriors all remained silent.

Muireann panted as she watched Cael’s eyes dull and the life leave his body. She looked up to Finan.  As he took a hesitant step towards her, she dropped his knife.

Then, as if compelled by an unseen force, Muireann streaked towards the stables.  It was as if she ran for her very life.  From the still form of her husband, the warriors.  From Finan.

When Muireann reached the stables, she wrenched open the doors and sank to her knees in the first empty stall.  Buried underneath the rushes, she found it.  A small wooden chest, locked.  

Muireann picked up the chest and with the strength of five men, hurled it at the stable wall.  The chest, weathered and sea worn, cracked into splinters.

Muireann grabbed the contents and ran towards the river.  Her breath was coming in gasps and her motions were frantic.  Once she reached the river, she continued along it until she reached a clearing with a small beach.

Muireann had removed her dress and was stepping out of it as she heard Finan approach her from behind.  Muireann swung around to face him.  He was not alone, but he was the only one her heart could see.  

Uhtred, Sihtric, and Osferth had stopped at the bank on the top of the clearing.  They allowed Finan to walk towards Muireann.  She clutched the contents of the box to her chest.  So hard that her knuckles were white.  Finally, Finan got within arms reach of Muireann.

He stopped and she stared at him with wide, terrified eyes

Finan held up his hands, “We won’t hurt ya, Muireann.  I won’t hurt ya.”

“I know.  I meant it when I said I don’t think I would mind if you had a hold on me.  If you kept me bound to you.”

“What are you talking about, Muireann.  I don’t understand.  What did he do to you?  What did he keep to bind you to him?” Finan’s voice was desperate for answers.  For understanding.

“I will return.  Near midsummer’s eve, look for me from the river,” She whispered.

Slowly, Muireann backed away and careful to never lose grip of her precious bundle from the box, she slipped her shift from her shoulders.  It fell away and lay at her feet.  

She never broke eye contact with Finan. 

They all watched her. 

Transfixed.  

Under her spell.

Muireann walked slowly into the water letting herself glide backwards.  She was going home.  Her head slipped below the surface and they all waited with baited breath.  

A few moments later and slightly closer to shore, a seal broke the surface of the water.  The sleek, beautiful creature stared at them all with human eyes.  Her gaze lingered the longest on Finan.  Then she slipped back under the dark waters and was gone.  The seals from the harbor slipped away into the depths to join her.

“A selkie” Finan whispered.

“Was that..?” Sihtric asked.  The companions had walked up to stand next to Finan on the shore.

“She’s a selkie.”

Osferth stared at Finan questioningly.  

Uhtred answered for his brother.  “She is one of the seal folk.  Shapeshifters.  Seals who can shed their skins to reveal a human form,” he spoke, entranced.  None of them could believe what they had witnessed.  Uhtred continued, “If a man takes a selkie woman’s skin and keeps it from her, she can never leave him.  She can not be without her skin.  That is how Muireann’s husband was holding her captive”

“We will see her again, Finan.  She will return to you.” Sihtric said. “ She looks at you like my Ealswith looks at me. And how Gisela looks to Uhtred.  I noticed it in the hall.  She will return.”

“Aye,” Finan said, with tears in his eyes.  “And when she does, I will not hold her captive. But I will love her.  By the sweet lord, our God, I will love that woman.”

A few notes:

Moodboard is mostly stock photography found on Google/Pinterest.  The top left corner is Woman in Tattered Dress by the Stormy Sea by Jill Battaglia.  The song in the story is Across the Sea by The Wailin’ Jennys.

Muireann - An irish name meaning "sea white, sea fair". Pronunciation is like the surname of the actress Helen Mirren, but with the spin of a w sound after the initial M.

Cael - An irish name meaning “narrow, slender”.  Pronunciation is like kale, the leafy vegetable.

[the-badger-mole]

Traditional

“You scared?” 

Zuko’s mouth pulled down slightly at the corners, but after years of practicing diplomacy and his uncle’s lessons on holding his temper, that was the only show of Zuko’s displeasure. 

“I have no reason to be afraid,” he said. He quirked his brow at Katara and met her gaze pointedly. “According to you.” Katara shrugged, though it was difficult to tell under her heavy, fur lined parka. 

“Well, Dad and Sokka already like you,” she reminded him.”It’s just everyone else you have to convince.” 

Zuko rolled his eyes, wishing that the Southern Water Tribe was like...well any place else in the world. Having the Chief and his heir on his side would have been enough in literally any other country in the world. But this wasn’t anywhere in the world. This was the Southern Water Tribe. Their numbers were still small after all this time, and they were fiercely loyal to each other. Families were intimately involved in each others’ lives. Beside him, Katara nudged him gently. He felt the comforting pressure of it through his own thick parka. 

“You’re going to be fine,” she promised, flashing him a reassuring smile.

 Her eyes were full of trust and confidence, and it bolstered Zuko’s own. But only just slightly. After all, he was about to ask her entire extended family for their blessing to marry her. It was...daunting. 

“What if...what if they don’t like this?” Zuko asked. Katara shrugged with a bravado that Zuko knew she didn’t feel. 

“I already said yes,” she said. “I’m old enough to make my own choices. Dad, Sokka and Gran Gran will understand. If anyone else has a problem with it...well, we just won’t invite them to the wedding.” 

“I don’t want to cause problems with you and your family,” Zuko lowered his voice, as if anyone could hear him. He and Katara had climbed to the ship’s crows nest, both for the privacy and to catch the first glimpse of Katara’s home. Katara sighed and rested her head against Zuko’s shoulder.  “You’re my family,” Katara said firmly. “I love you, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Besides, we’ve been dating for two years. There were only two ways for this to end.” 

Zuko sighed and pressed his forehead against  Katara’s hair. She was right, of course. As Fire Lord, openly courting a woman meant that she was being seriously considered as his wife. He and Katara had spoken at length about the expectations before they decided to start dating. Then they spent another eternity talking with Iroh, Hakoda and Sokka about the expectations before going public with their relationship. If anyone was taken by surprise by their engagement at this point, then it was really out of Katara and Zuko’s hands. They had followed protocol more strictly than any Fire Lord and potential Fire Lady had in at least the last two centuries.Still...

“Why won’t you tell me what’s going to happen here?” Zuko asked. Katara sat up and shrugged. 

“I’ve told you what I could,” she said. “You have to speak to my father, Gran Gran and Sokka about your intention. Then you present me with your gifts, and then my closest male relatives take you hunting.” 

That was the part that gave Zuko pause. He knew better than to think Hakoda or Sokka would harm him (permanently), but Katara said that Bato and Pakku would likely be there as well. Zuko had interacted with both men a handful of times since the end of the war, and they had been courteous, if a bit cold. They grew even more frigid after he started dating Katara. He wasn’t sure how either of them would treat him out on the tundra. Away from Katara. Away from witnesses in general. It would be all too easy to arrange an accident...

“Would you stop worrying?” Katara reached up and poked Zuko where his brow furrowed over his nose. “It’ll be fine. You’ve been hunting before.” 

“Not on ice,” Zuko grumbled. “And never while trying to impress my fiancee’s family.” 

“Don’t worry, they already like you!” 

Zuko recalled the last time he had interacted with Katara’s step-grandfather and waterbending master. He had given the Water Tribe elder a deep, respectful bow-something unheard of for a Fire Lord to do. He rose to find Pakku eyeing him critically and prepared with a comment on how sloppy the bow was, and how in the Northern Tribe, young men were taught to show their elders the utmost respect. 

“We’ll be there soon,” Zuko said, casting his narrowed gaze over the horizon. “Are you ready?” Katara leaned up and pressed a kiss to Zuko’s cheek.

“I’ve been ready for this for two years.” 

****

Per the Southern Water Tribe’s custom, Katara disembarked the ship first, on a dinghy, so she could greet Zuko with her family. As the chief’s daughter,  all of the Southern Tribe was considered family, and so had the right to be there when Zuko came to ask for a blessing on his and Katara’s upcoming marriage.

 For two days Zuko was left on his ship while the village prepared for his official arrival. Any representatives from the surrounding villages who wanted to be present would arrive during this time, and the family members who would be joining the hunt would make sure that their supplies were ready. Ordinarily, the suitor would have his own preparations to make, but Zuko had done everything he was supposed to before he left Caldera. All he could do for two days was drive himself, his uncle and his crew insane with last minute worries. 

“What if she doesn’t like what I got her?” Zuko asked his uncle.

“I’m sure she’ll love your gifts,” Iroh assured him. 

“Has the guest room been prepared in case her grandmother wants to come back with us?” Zuko asked the ship’s captain. It was a possibility that Katara had prepared him for. Usually, the mother of the intended went with her daughter to her future home to help get her set up and meet her future in-laws. Kanna might not feel up to the cross ocean trek, but she might decide to go after all. Zuko wanted to make sure the voyage was as comfortable as possible.

Then Zuko had inventory taken on all the supplies he had brought for Katara’s village. In the eight years since the end of the war, the Southern Water Tribe had slowly, but surely begun to come into their own power. Still, Katara assured him that the extra fabric, metal, and spices would be welcomed. When he was done with all of that, there was nothing left for him to do but wait. 

Finally, at around noon on the second day, it was finally time for the Fire Lord to arrive in the village. Stepping off of the boat felt eerily similar to the first time he had first set foot onto the icy land eight years earlier. Things had certainly changed. He was no longer a desperate 16 year-old boy on an impossible mission. He wore practical wool and furs instead of slightly too large battle armor. The piers had been rebuilt in the intervening time, and Zuko had seen them himself several times before without the odd knot in his stomach. But like that first time, he was met with rows of solemn faces staring at him, uncertainly. He was once again an unwelcome foreigner come to disturb their peace.

There were some friendly faces in the crowd, Zuko had to remind himself. There a few Tribesmen and women he had gotten the chance to know over the past few years of peace. Some he had begun nascent friendships with before he had even allowed himself to hope Katara liked him the way he liked her. Nukilik, the village armsmith flashed him a grin and what Zuko could only assume were two thumbs up. It was hard to tell through the thick mittens, but it made more sense than the man balling his hands into fists. 

Hakoda and Sokka were there, too. Zuko noticed with relief that neither of them seemed upset to see him. Hakoda smiled the placid, slightly tired smile Zuko had learned to recognize over the years. Sokka’s grin was slightly more disturbing- more of a baring of teeth than a smile, paired with a mischievous gleam.

“Welcome, Fire Lord Zuko,” Hakoda greeted him formally, but warmly grasping his forearm in the traditional Water Tribe greeting. “I heard your trip was smooth. I hope it was also pleasant.”

“It was,” Zuko said loud enough for the bystanders to hear.”We made better time than I’d hoped.”

“Of course you did,” Sokka declared, grabbing his friend’s arm the way Hakoda had. Then he pulled Zuko into a one armed hug, slapping the young Fire Lord hard on the back. “You had a master waterbender with you.”

“We should get going,” Hakoda said. “There are others who are anxious to see you’ve made it here safe.” Zuko blushed a deep red as a wave of laughter passed through the crowd. They knew exactly what Hakoda meant. And just like that, Zuko was accepted by them. The awkward suitor of a daughter of their tribe.

The crowd fell in line behind Zuko’s small entourage. He walked at the head with Hakoda and Sokka in an informal procession through the town. The buildings were nowhere near as ornate as those he had seen in the Northern Water Tribe, but Zuko recognized a bustling, prosperous town. The houses and shops were like the people of the Southern Tribe- practical, sturdy and possessing a unique grace all their own. In the middle of the village stood a long low hall that served as Hakoda’s seat of power, the village community center, and for today, a banquet hall. 

Katara sat at a table on a raised platform with her Gran Gran and Master Pakku. She wore a parka lined with pristine white and grey fur. Her hair had been done in elaborate looping braids that had been fastened with bead and ivory combs.On her forehead had been painted a dark crescent moon. The mark of the brave she earned years earlier, she had once explained to Zuko. She was all Water Tribe today. To Zuko, she had never seemed more regal and queenly- not even in her Ambassador’s robes- and he wanted to stop and thank everyone present for giving rise to the most compassionate, strong, intelligent and beautiful Fire Lady the world would ever know. But he restrained himself. He hadn’t officially declared his intentions yet. 

Hakoda and Sokka clapped Zuko on the back almost hard enough to knock him to his knees, but Zuko managed to stay standing. Then they left him at the foot of what he now recognized as a dias, and took their seats. Hakoda at the center with his children on either side of him. 

“Fire Lord Zuko,” Hakoda addressed him in a somber tone. “Why have you come?” It wasn’t exactly a friendly start to this conversation, but Katara had told Zuko to expect this.He glanced up at Katara and found her watching him. She gave him a small, supportive smile and nodded slightly. Spirits, she was gorgeous. Zuko tried to swallow and unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth and say the words Katara had told him to say. 

“Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe,”he managed to say clearly.”Honored elders,” he bowed to Kanna and Pakku, “beloved family,” he turned to acknowledge the people gathered in the hall. “I have come to make it known that I intend to marry your daughter, Master Katara, and I humbly ask your blessings.”  The room fell uncomfortably silent. After a moment, he risked a glance up. Hakoda was watching him with a stoney eyed stare.  It wasn’t quite angry, but it wasn’t exactly encouraging, either. 

“Here in the Southern Water Tribe a marriage is not to be entered into lightly,” he began after a long pause. “When a couple decides to join their lives together, they agree to protect each other. Each has their own duty to the home and family they will build together, and neither is more or less important. Can you promise to help her build a safe and sturdy home together?”

Safe and sturdy were so subjective. He could provide Katara a palace with loyal and well trained guards. Even with the Fire Nation’s funds diminished with the costs of rebuilding infrastructure, providing for the financially devastated poor and making reparations to the nations damaged by his family’s war, Zuko’s wife and children would want for nothing substantial. Still he knew that as beloved as Master Katara, the Water Tribe Ambassador had become, there would always be people opposed to a foreign Fire Lady, just as there would always be opposed to the Fire Lord who ended the war that made whole generations of Fire Nobility wealthy. But Katara had acknowledged those obstacles, and she had still chosen him- him!- in spite of the risks. Zuko wasn’t afraid for her or himself or their children. They had faced down worse odds together. Zuko met Katara’s eye once more, taking courage from the way they seemed to gleam in the lantern light. 

“I promise,” Zuko swore. He knew what was coming next. He was neither surprised nor dismayed when Hakoda spoke again. 

“Words are not enough. Words alone are empty and can be spent lightly.” Hakoda’s stone-faced expression broke slightly, and Zuko thought he saw the beginning of a smile. “You will have a chance to prove your ability to provide. Tomorrow you will join me and my son, Sokka on a hunt. If your kill is acceptable to my daughter, it will serve as your betrothal feast.” 

 With that, Hakoda stood and left the assembly with Sokka and Katara following behind him. Kanna and Pakku feel in behind them, followed by the village elders. Finally, Zuko and his entourage were guided to where they would stay for the duration of the trip. Iroh, who had been uncharacteristically silent for the ceremony, nudged his nephew in the ribs. He grinned up at Zuko excitedly. 

“You did so well, Fire Lord Zuko!” he stage whispered. “I’m very proud of you. And so, may I add, was Master Katara.” Zuko didn’t feel that he had done much at all. He’d barely spoken- had barely had the chance to speak- and he would have to trek the icy tundra the next day and hope he didn’t embarrass himself too badly in front of his future in-laws. But then he remembered how Katara’s proud look when he’d caught her eye, and Zuko knew he’d go anywhere and accomplish any task if it meant he got to be with her for the rest of his life. 

*.*.*.*.*

“I know Dad has to look strong and dignified in front of everyone,” Katara said.  “But he could have at least cracked a smile up there.” 

There hadn’t been an official banquet that evening. Hakoda had predicted that his guests would be tired after their journey, so Zuko’s crew had gone to dinner at the inn where they would be staying for this trip, and Zuko and Iroh, along with a couple of guards, were staying with Hakoda and his family. After dinner, everyone adjourned to their rooms for the evening, leaving Zuko and Katara the common room. They were curled up together on a pile of cushions and rugs in front of the fire, discussing the day, just like they had done almost every night for the past two years. 

“I’m sure this isn’t easy on him,” Zuko pointed out in reply to Katara’s complaint. “You’re his only daughter, and you’re not only getting married, you’ll be moving across the world from him.” 

“I’ve been the Water Tribe Ambassador for three years!” Katara reminded him. “It’s not like my living situation is going to change. Well,” Katara looked up and winked at Zuko, “not much.” 

“It’s going to be  a bigger change than you think,” Zuko said thoughtfully. “The Ambassador thing was always going to be temporary. Eventually, you would have decided to move on to something else, or get married and start a family-” Zuko allowed a small smile to cross his face as he pulled Katara a bit closer. “He probably assumed you would be a little closer to home when that happened. He’s going to miss you.” 

“I’m going to miss him, too,” Katara admitted. “And Sokka and Gran Gran and Suki and Pakku. But I’ll visit as often as I can. Besides, it’s not like I’ve ever been Daddy’s Lil’ Princess.”

“Katara, your dad is the Chief of the entire Southern Water Tribe,” Zuko chuckled. “You’re everyone’s princess.”

“I told you, that’s not how it works down here,” Katara huffed. “I’m not-”

“Officially a princess,” Zuko completed, rolling his eyes. “I know, I know. But you are still really important here. Whether you want to admit it or not, you pretty much are a princess.”

“I am not!” Zuko noticed with no small amount of amusement that Katara was blushing. He grinned mischievously. 

“I think I should talk with your dad about getting you a crown,” he teased. Katara jabbed his ribs with her elbow. 

“Don’t you start giving people ideas,” she chided. “If dad gives me a crown, Sokka’s going to insist on having one, and his head is swollen enough without adding the weight.”

“You’re going  to have a crown soon anyway,” Zuko pointed out. “Maybe you should have one just to get used to it.” Katara hummed thoughtfully and nestled into Zuko’s side. 

“Do I have to wear a crown?” she asked. “What if I just got some really fancy beads?” 

Zuko reached up and brushed his fingers against Katara’s braids. The truth was he couldn’t care less about what she wore when she was Fire Lady. He’d made it clear to his advisors that she would be welcome to integrate elements of her own culture in their day to day life at the palace. Still..

“You should probably have one for formal occasions, at least,” he said thoughtfully. “But aside from that, you can do whatever you like with your hair. And your clothes.” Zuko’s fingers wandered away from her hair to the thick fur lining her hood. “I wouldn’t recommend fur, though.” 

“I don’t know,” Katara shrugged. “I think showing up to a council meeting in a full fur parka would be a serious power move.”

“Most of them are already afraid of you. But whatever you want, my love, is fine with me.” 

“Aw!” Katara twisted around and planted a kiss on the edge of Zuko’s jaw. “You’re so good to me.” Despite two years and many kisses, Katara still managed to make Zuko blush. 

“Ick!” The pair turned to find Sokka cringing in the doorway. “You two are so gross.”

“Oh, please!” Katara snorted. “You and Suki are just as bad.” At the mention of his wife, Sokka’s face crumpled miserably. 

“Suki!” he wailed. “Why’d you have to bring her up? I’d almost forgotten to miss her today.” 

“She’ll be home in two weeks.” Katara rolled her eyes, unsympathetically. Suki was back in Kyoshi to visit her aunt. It was the first time she’d been back since her and Sokka’s wedding almost a year earlier, and Sokka had been supportive of the trip, but he hadn’t counted on missing her so much. 

“It feels different being apart when you’re married,” Sokka lamented. “You’ll find out.” Then with a menacing smirk he added, “You know, assuming you come back from the hunting trip.” Katara felt Zuko tense up and she glared at her brother. 

“Stop teasing him,” she scolded. She brushed her fingers across Zuko’s cheek. “He’s going to be fine.” Zuko turned his head and kissed the palm of Katara’s hand. Sokka shuddered. 

‘Have you ever actually been hunting?” Sokka asked Zuko. “This is a pretty big deal. The entire village is invited to this party. It’s a bad look if you don’t bring enough food for everyone.” 

“Sokka!” Katara sat up and fixed her brother with a warning glare. Sokka threw his hands up in surrender. 

“Whatever,” he said. “But you really should go to bed soon. We’re leaving early tomorrow. Anyway, I’m turning in. Go back to being gross.” When he was gone, Zuko glanced down at Katara nervously. 

“I have hunted before,” he said softly as if spilling some deep dark secret. “But it was just small animals. It was right before...before Ba Sing Se. Never anything like...” Zuko motioned around the room at the trophies from other hunts. There were large ivory tusks hanging from the walls and thick, furs trapping the precious heat. Everything came from animals at least as big as he was. 

“Are you worried you can’t do it?” Katara asked. Zuko felt a rush of heat to his face. 

“Well...what if I can’t?” he asked. “If this is how I propose, will we not be allowed to marry if I can’t bring in a...a...” Once again, Zuko gestured around the room. Katara sat up, pulling away from Zuko’s embrace so she could face him. 

“First of all,” she held up a finger under his nose, “I’ve already agreed to marry you. All we’re doing here is telling people and giving you a chance to bond with my family. Second,” another finger joined the first, “Dad and Sokka are expert hunters. You’ll come back with something, I guarantee it. Third, I love you, and there’s nothing that can change that, so stop freaking out about this. It’s supposed to be fun.” 

“Fun,” Zuko snorted, but he did feel better. 

“Promise you’ll at least try to have fun?” Katara rolled her eye, feigning exasperation. Zuko kissed her forehead and nodded. 

“I’ll try,” he promised. 

“Great!” Katara resettled into her previous spot, curled up with Zuko with a happy sigh. 

“I have to go to bed,” Zuko protested weakly. 

“Fire more minutes,” Katara said. “I won’t see you for a few days, so I want my cuddle time now.” 

Part 1, Part 2,   Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

[potatosoldier]

Are you still there?

  /Part 7/

I am hot, I am sweaty, and I am crammed into a small cot surrounded by equally sweaty men. It was the 6th of September, and we had just boarded the Great Samaria a few hours ago. We were now on a journey to Europe. 

How they managed to jam us into this ship, I have no clue. It isn’t like there is 20 men over the capacity of this ship. No, this ship was made for 1000 passengers and now there were 5000 men from the 506th shoved in. I could have made the choice and went to the officers and made my stay there, I want to be near the men. 

“Joe, darling, your shoulders are like barn doors, I can’t fit”

Oh yes, as the passenger count was so high, the cots were shared by two soldiers. I was sharing with Joe. At first I also considered going to Skip, but then I came to a conclusion that I could stand Joe’s singing in this suppressed place, but listening to Skip talk non-stop would make me an irritable person. And I truly did not want to become that. These men are my companions and I want to treat the with the respect they deserve. I did not have the right to become rude even in these circumstances. 

Also, if I was put too high, Bull would have to carry me around like a baby monkey. 

“For God’s sake, just turn the other way”, Joe grunts as I try to maneuver myself without jostling the cot too much.  

“Joe, please move”, I whine and try to push him. He rasps and looks at me teasing smile on his lips. 

“you wanna continue trying, Bambi”, he teases. I scrunch my brows and pout. Why did he have to make this so difficult. Then I put on my most motherly glare. “Joseph Toye, this is not how you should behave”, I scold. 

He chuckles once again, but proceeds to move over so I’m finally able to fit in next to him on the cot. It was a tight squeeze, both of us were on top of the bed springs, but we tried to be so that it’s the least uncomfortable. Physically and mentally. 

“So you told Muck, huh?”, he whispers once we are in and he hears Skip talking while making his way around the ship. I nod as we both look at the cot above us. “You sure that was a good idea?”, he asks. I could hear in his voice that he didn’t doubt Skip personally, but he was just checking in. 

I smile. “He has been good to me since I came here, He won’t betray me now. And it does feel good to let it out”, I tell. He nods. 

“So, what do you think about going to Europe?”, he asks. I shrug. “I’m glad I’m here, maybe we can speed up the process of ending this war and Matias and dad can go back home”, I answer. Matias was my older brother. I think he is the reason I’m so fond of Skip and Luz, Matias was such a jokester too. It broke my heart to think of him out there somewhere, fighting for his life. 

“I’m glad we’re going to Europe too. Hitler gets one of these right across the windpipe, Roosevelt changes Thanksgiving to Joe Toye Day and 10,000 a year for the rest of my fucking life”, he says in a much louder voice. 

I look at him trying not to laugh. “Joe, I promise I’ll celebrate Joe Toye Day from now on even if you don’t succeed”, I manage to say without laughing. 

“What if we don’t get to Europe, what if they send us to North Africa”, Smokey points out from above us. 

The conversation doesn’t awfully concern me, till I hear these words: “ I like Winters, he is a good man. But when bullets start flying, I don’t know if I want a Quaker doing my fighting for me”

My head turns sharply up towards Bill’s bed. My blood starts running cold with the rage I’m feeling. He had the audacity to condemn someone by their religion and to add to that doubt MY husbands skills in combat. 

“How do you know he’s a Quaker?”

“He ain’t Catholic”

I’m about to jump up and teach the boy some manners when, Joe apparently notices my open mouth and shoves my head under a blanket. And by shoving, I mean shoving. Nothing gentle about it. I can only imagine the looks people are throwing at us. 

“Okay Bambi up we go” he then says and starts lifting me up, my head still covered. I can hear Liebgott and Bill still having a spat and am about to turn to go towards the noise, but Joe keeps me covered till we are away from the scene.

“You need some fresh air, you angry hedgehog, to he deck we go”, Joe says and pushes people around to make us way forward. He really saved me from making a mistake. 

With Richard

The Boat was far from comfortable, that was the only thing Richard Winters would say to the circumstances at hand. Last time he had been this hot, was while running in full gear in Toccoa. 

“They really filled this Troop ship to the brink”, Lewis says looking just as sweaty as his friend. “If I’m going to be this hot, I’d rather have 5000 ladies here. At least there would be something to look at”, Nix says. 

“Yeah, and by the time you’d make it to your destination they’d have eaten you alive, after finding out about Kathy”, Dick teases. Keeping your mind light in situations like this was the key to keeping your head together. His friend had his own lightness hidden in Dick’s footlocker. 

Lewis let’s out his trademark chuckle. “Easy for you to say”, he snarks back. Dick knows exactly what he means. It was easy for Dick to judge other men for seeking affection because his own wife was there. 

Dick only looks at his friend with a dry look and they remain silent for a while. 

“Never thought this day would actually come, of course I knew it was coming, but hell we’ve come a long way”, Nix says and takes a swig from his flask. Dick lets out a small huff. It really was a miracle that Sobel hadn’t found some way to get rid off them. 

“You think we can make it Nix, back home I mean”, Dick asks thoughtfully and plays with his fingers. It was a curious question, not one of sadness or fear. 

“That’s not for us to decide, but hey I’ll drink to the thought of seeing your children some day”; he says raising his flask in what was supposed to be a happy remark, but when he sees Dick’s face, all the happiness goes away. 

He furrows his brows and looks at his friend more closely. “You okay Dick?”, he asks while still studying his now pale friend. Dick just continues looking ahead like he was not there at all. 

“Yeah, Nix, I’m okay”, he finally whispers and they drop the topic replacing it  with silence. 

Sonja / Day 3 on the Samaria/

“Better out than in, there we go”, George says as he brushes some of my hair back. I had been throwing up for the last two hours. I wasn’t sure was it the sea or the smell of the fish soup that made me so nauseous. 

“I fe- ugh”, I puke again in the middle of my sentence. I was not the only one throwing up, no. But I felt very embarrassed to be in this situation. I was a nurse, not a patient. 

Suddenly a pounding of boots is heard and I feel someone place themselves on the other side of me. “There we go, a Hershey bar for the lady. Got it from Winters, tried scrounging and he was kind enough to offer when he passed”, Skip says as he opens the wrapper for me. 

And what I can take from his story is that, that he went to tell Richard I’m unwell and Richard gave him the bar. 

“Thank you”, I whisper and take the piece Skip snaps me. Luz takes the bucket from my hands and gives water to rinse my mouth.  “For a small lady, you sure puke your guts out like a grown man”, Luz teases. 

“Shut up, I’m only three inches shorter than you”, I grumble and lean against him while savoring the chocolate to get the taste of vomit out. He only chuckles and makes a mocking “UGH” noise. 

“Thank you boys for getting me out, I thought Joe was going to kill me”,I giggle softly. They both huff in laughter. “I mean you did puke on his chest”, Skip points out. I grimace, that I sure did. His chest and neck where running with fish soup after I retched on him. 

“Someone get her a bucket, fucking hell, if someone isn’t gonna help her, Imma kill every fucking one of you”

“Skip, go get us some cards, I don’t think she can handle the sweat level yet”, George says as he strokes my back, as I gag again a little. 

How long was I going to be stuck on this boat.

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

The night was awful, I felt sickly and I noticed that Joe was turning more than usual, probably because of the back pain. We were lucky enough to fit on the cot so that we could both sleep in it, but nothing seemed to get me catch sleep. I was afraid of throwing up again. 

“Nurse”, I hear a whisper. I jump and look up. Even in the dim lighting I can recognize my husband. I carefully stand without jostling Joe too much, and gently put the blanket on him again, after raising it up a little to get a little cool air on him. 

“Yes sir?”,I ask professionally as I stand before Richard. He just nods his head towards the deck. 

As we make it to the deck we quickly and quietly find a corner with no one sleeping in it. He takes a look around and has a seat. Before taking something out from his pocket: chocolate.

“Richard, you don’t have a sweet tooth, how do you have all these”;I ask looking at him oddly. 

“I got this from Nix, he was willing to sacrifice it for I quote ‘holy business’“, I giggle at my husbands expression as he quotes Lewis. I take the bar from him and put it next to me. I honestly felt too sickly to eat it now. 

I look at Dick biting my lip. He seems to notice the softness in my gaze as he utters a gentle “come here”, and gently guides me to lay my upper body onto his legs. 

“Don’t worry, darling. I can keep watch, and if they ask more, I can say that I was just looking out for you as your officer”, he soothes and rubs his hand along my arms. Which feels amazing on my sore muscles. 

“I think it’s time to tell the men soon anyway. They need to get used to the idea before we jump, and I think that they know you well enough to not judge you”, he then brings up. I nod against his leg, this living in secrecy was starting to become more and more difficult. 

I then squeeze my eyes shut as nausea takes over me. “Richie I think I might puke”,I whimper. I always got very stressed when I had nausea, and sensitive. “I don’t wanna puke on you”,I say and try to rise, but in all honestly rising just made it worse.

Richard guides me back gently. “If you puke on me, then you do. Don’t worry about that. Let’s just get you comfortable”

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

On the 15th of September we finally made it to Liverpool. I was still quite pale after the ride. Eating had really become a task, and without food, you lose strength. But with the threats from Joe and gentle urging from Carwood Lipton, I was able to get food down. 

“You feelin’ good ma’am?”, comes a familiar Arkansas drawl as I give a happy sigh to be on the steady ground. I chuckle “Aye, sir, better than ever”, I say teasingly. He mock salutes me and we start walking for our shelter for the night. 

I walk on Joe’s side keeping a firm hold of his sleeve as I had been told by Lip.

“We don’t want you getting lost, you are harder to find than most of us”

At first I had wanted to tell him that I am a grown woman with military training, but his truly caring gaze changed my plans.  If I could express in words, how thankful I was for that mans care I would shout it at his too humble face. Okay, these boys are really rubbing off on me, I wouldn’t shout, maybe gently lecture. 

Tomorrow we would be going to our final destination. 

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

Aldbourne was vastly different from all the places I’ve had my training and from what the men told me, it was also very different to them. We were in the middle of a village! We could actually see other people. 

“Come on Sonja, please, please please”, Skip was begging on his knees. We had gotten our passes to go to Swindon for a Saturday night dance this weekend. The boys were all excited about being able to go and actually getting the passes this time. 

“Skip, you know I get uncomfortable with many people, also it’ll be nice to have some time alone”, I try to reason as he keeps pushing my skirt and blouse towards my hands. 

He looks at me with his green puppy eyes. “please, Bambi, for me, Joe is coming too. Aren’t you? Hear that Joe is there too”, he begs. I sigh and look at both of them. 

“Okay, but when I say want to come back, I will”, I say pointing at him. 

“Yes!!”

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

I didn’t put on my skirt and blouse, instead I took out my light blue swing dress and let my hair down. It was nice to feel girly again, and actually have a reason to get dolled up. That was not the best part, the best part was actually putting my wedding ring onto my finger. I gave a small kiss to my cross and said a little prayer of gratitude before going to the boys. 

The boys were happy to have me, their lady with them. 

“Your husband is one lucky bastard”. George had said when he saw me. Bull had even blushed when I gave him a kiss on the cheek as thanks for helping me with my jacket. 

All the girls in the dance were dolled up too. I found the music in there absolutely delightful. It might have not been completely in my taste, but I appreciate it nonetheless. Also the sound of shoes clapping against the floor was beautifully relaxing. 

“Would my lady like to dance?”, Skip asks bowing at the waste. I shake my head at his antics but take his hand none the less. And boy did I make a mistake. I was tosses from Skip to George, to Bull, to Joe, to Don (who mind you, was an excellent dancer!) and god knows who. The Easy boys really decided to hit the floor. 

Once I was able to make a run from them, I found Joe drinking a beer at one of the tables. “You having fun?”; he asks and takes a long sip. I nod and smile widely. 

“I can’t remember the last time I’ve been able to dance so much! But I do wonder”, I bite my lip. “Am I a bad person to be here, without Richard?”; I whisper. 

Joe shakes his head. “You’re too good for this world. There ain’t nothing wrong with you being here. He trusts you and you trust him. And hell, you were giggling like a school girl when you realized you still had time to go to him after this. You aren’t committing any sin”, he soothes with a little teasing making me blush. 

Who can blame me, I just want to grab my Robert Burns poems and go read with Richards head on my lap. Was that really too much to ask for? He was my husband.

We continue our conversation, with me sipping a cup of water, until I hear a similar interruption as in the boat. 

Bill and Skinny make it to our table chatting. “He might be a good man, but Quakers aren’t meant for this shit” My patience had been running thin with these comments for so long and now my patience was all run out.

“He is not a Quaker”, I snap. Bill turns to me with an odd look on his face. 

“And how do you know that Bambi”, many of the Easy men were now near our table from hearing my raised voice. 

I don’t know what made it come out of my mouth, but this did anyway: “If my husband was a Quaker I think I’d be the one who knows that and not you”

I quickly realize what I said and plant my palm against my face, trying to remember how to breathe. I hear Joe sigh from next to me: “Well, now you fucking said it”

@iilovemusic12us​

@georgeparisole​

[mrsalwayswrite]

Anchor in the Waves- Epilogue

Here it is, lovelies! The final part! 

A huge thank you to everyone who has read/commented/liked. Y’all are the best! 

No real warnings, fluff mostly and a little bit of *cough* sexy times *cough*

As always, translations are via google. 

Tag List: @happyveday @evelynshelby

Anchor in the Waves Masterlist

"WOMEN OF COCCHAM! WE ARE BACK!!"

 Aine smiled, shaking her head as she heard Finan's voice. Immediately, she followed the small parade of people making their way towards the dock to greet the Lord of Coccham and his warriors. She noticed her friend up ahead and headed over to stand next to Gisela, baby Stiorra in her arms. 

 The Lady of Coccham (even if Aine only called her in good humor) smirked, bouncing her young daughter. "There goes our peace and quiet."

 Aine laughed, watching the boat being tied to the dock and men jumping off. "I suppose it is a good thing we like them."

 "Mmm...most days." Gisela commented dryly, before moving closer to both greet her husband and wrangle her toddler. 

 The Irishwoman stayed back, observing the greetings and the breath of life that came with the men's return. They had been gone over a month this time, fighting rogue Danes on Wessex's border. However much she and Gisela teased one another about the men being gone, thanking the gods for a respite from them...Coccham did not feel like home until they returned. 

 She nodded at the warriors who passed her, making their way into the village. Some were attacked by children leaping into their arms or family members looking them over for injuries. It warmed her heart to witness the scene before her. How this small village had become a home for the many who lived here, filled with laughter, love and hope. It was a place for both Dane and Saxon...something Wessex desperately needed...with a couple Irish thrown in to make it interesting.  

 The first to approach her was Osferth, his boyish grin making her smile. "Welcome back."

 "It's good to be back." He accepted her hug, only blushing slightly at the show of affection. It had taken a few months before he would not turn red as a tomato when she hugged him. He was a younger brother to her. Even though he would deny it with all the breath in his lungs, she knew he enjoyed the special treatment she gave him, always making sure he had extra food and taking care of his sewing. 

 "Food is on the table in the Main Hall." She released him, looking over him quickly and relieved when she saw no injuries or dried blood. "Better hurry up before the others get there."

 He did not need to be told twice.   

 Sihtric found her next. Before she could stop him, he wrapped his arms around her waist and spun her around, making her squeal. "Aine!" He cried out. 

 "Put me down, you crazy Dane!" She gripped his shoulders, terrified he was going to drop her. He set her down, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. Soon as she was on her feet and stable, she punched his shoulder. “What was that for?”

 “Can I not be excited to see you?”

 Smoothing down her red dress, she rolled her eyes but the fond smile gave away her true feelings. "Go on, food is on the table."

 "You are a gift from the gods themselves!" He busted a loud kiss on her cheek, completely surprising her.  

 "Oi! Sihtric! Hands off my woman!!" Finan yelled. He stood on the dock, arms crossed, having been talking to one of the village men who managed the small boats in Coccham. 

 "She has chosen a new path and will be my woman now!" Sihtric wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "She said you smell like a pig more often than a man and cannot stand your stench any longer!"

 She swatted at Sihtric's chest, unable to suppress her laughter both due to the Dane's complete shit-eating grin and Finan's aghast look. Part of her wondered if Sihtric was drunk since he was usually so reserved in front of the others. All she could figure was there some teasing going on that she did not know the full story of. Although she had no problems playing along. In all the times Finan was pulled away to help Uhtred with whatever King Alfred needed him for, Sihtric and Aine had no problems creating their own amusement with the mischief they caused. Of course, they never got caught since no one would expect it from the two of them. 

 "Sihtric!" Uhtred called over, his arm around his own wife. "You have my approval, though that whore in Wintanceaster you are so fond of will be most upset to no longer receive your silver."

 "Go on." Aine pressed a quick kiss to Sihtric's cheek, hearing Finan's shout in the background. "Osferth is already eating, I am sure."

 As Uhtred and his little family walked towards her, she bowed her head slightly. "Welcome back, my lord."

 He stepped over to give her a hug. His hugs were always so warm and all-encompassing. Just like everything Uhtred did, he did with his whole heart, including his hugs. "Thank you, Aine. It brings me joy to know you are here to watch over my family while I am gone."

 "I consider Gisela a sister and your children as my own family."

 Blue eyes flashing as he beamed at her. "That pleases me greatly."

 She watched the little family head back towards the main hall for a lingering moment, happiness filling her at the sight of the love and family Uhtred now had. He was such a different man from when they first met. So much had changed over the years but most for the better. What had once been a broken man, now stood tall and strong. It brought her joy to witness. 

 A pair of strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her back against a broad chest. "And what of me?"

 She opened her mouth to reply then almost gagged as her nostrils were assaulted. Pushing out of his embrace, she turned to examine Finan keeping him at arm's length. "Ya smell."

 "Oh? No affection for me? Your beloved husband."

 "I will once ya don't smell like shit…" She paused, eyeing him warily. "Why do ya smell like shit and no one else?"

 He sighed, sending a glare towards the main hall. "Let's just say Sihtric's a right bastard, aye?"

 She bit her bottom lip, trying to keep a neutral face. He looked so forlorn, she wanted to wrap him in an embrace but not with the foul stench radiating off him. “Ya need to wash before eatin'."

 "But I'm hungry and tired." He whined, taking a step closer to her, hands reaching out to grab hold of her.  

 She jumped back as he tried to move closer, batting his grabbing hands away. "Too bad. Go wash or Osferth will eat it all. Lord knows where that child packs all the food away. He eats like a horse."

 "Mmm…" He placed his hands on her hips, a gleam in his eyes. "Not even a kiss for ya husband to welcome him home? To give me the strength to continue? Tis such a long walk back to the river, but with a kiss..."

 She rolled her eyes at his dramatics. With a huff, she conceded, knowing he would be relentless if she did not give him some kind of affection. Rising onto her toes, she pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "Now, go ba...ah!" Before she could settle back on her feet, he easily lifted her up and threw her over his shoulder. "Finan!" 

 "Ya husband requires help, and it’s ya duty as a lovin', loyal wife to help in whatever I need."

 “Is é sin do bharúil. Is féidir leat folctha a dhéanamh duit féin.” She pounded with her fist on his back, but he only laughed. (That is what you think. You can bath yourself.)

 "Fíor. Náire áfach. Anois, is cosúil go mbraitheann tú boladh agus go dteastaíonn folctha uait freisin." He swatted her arse cheerfully, making her yelp. (True. Shame though. Now, it seems you smell and require a bath also.)

 She tried to wriggle away, only causing him to laugh and swat her arse again. Grumbling, she eventually gave up as he walked towards the secluded spot in the river reserved for bathing. She had no intentions of getting in the water. No matter what he said or did. 

 *****

 At the riverside, he gently set her down, grabbing her upper arms as she wobbled slightly. 

 "I've no need a bath. Ya get in there. I'll stay with ya since I'm such a lovin' and loyal wife." She stepped away to plop down on grass nearby, smoothing her red dress down. Unconsciously, she ran her fingers through her long, brown hair that hung loosely down her back, staring at the river. 

 Unable to remove his gaze from her, he watched, a contentment filling his soul at the simplicity of the moment. His woman… his beautiful wife waiting for him as he bathed so they could return to their home together. Though he would much prefer for her to join him. It had been years since they first met in Islond, yet he found her only becoming more beautiful with each passing year. 

 Over that time, he had also fallen more in love with her as different facets of her appeared, now free of slavery. She had a quick wit and sarcastic streak he loved to witness. She was always going out of her way to help others, particularly the mothers and children in Coccham. In the quiet moments, there was usually some kind of knitting or sewing in her hands, saying it helped calm her mind. He knew she loved giving gifts though, seeing people's faces light up when she gave them something for no reason other than she wanted to. Behind the closed door of their home though, she was a temptress that he wholeheartedly would sell his soul to. With just a look or wink, she could drive him wild. Many a time he threatened to lock them in their cottage and not come out for three days if she continued to tease him so. 

 The time he was forced to spend away from her side, fighting for Uhtred and King Alfred, killed him but it gave him another reason to fight better and harder. She waited in their home for his return...and there was nothing he would not do to keep her safe. He would move mountains for her. Even years later, the promise he gave still held as true now as then. He wanted her safe and happy.

 "Are ya goin' get in the water or just stare at me?" She leaned back on her elbows, hair dancing around her as she watched him. 

 A lazy smirk grew on his face as he slowly and carefully began removing his armor. He dropped each piece into a small pile next to his feet, keeping his eyes on her the whole time. She just watched, a small, coy smile on her lips. Next, he took his time taking his clothes off, unable to suppress his bodily response as he noticed her eyes roaming over his body greedily. There was no shame in his nakedness before her. Even the scars he loathed from his time as a slave, the whip marks and scars on his hands from the oar, he hardly noticed when alone with her. On more than one occasion, she kissed those hateful scars away, reminding him he survived and they only showed the strength within him.   

 "Ya sure ya don't want to join me?" He teased once more, purposefully placing his hands on his hips. Where her eyes seemed to linger did not go unnoticed by him. If anything, it made him ache for her more. 

 "Mmm...if we both get in that water, it'll be next year before we leave."

 "I do not see a problem with that."

 She laughed while giving him a shooing motion. 

 Naked as the day he was born, he finally stepped into the water. The chill shot through his body but it felt pleasant, refreshing. Finally stopping at his waist, he submerged himself. Weeks’ worth of filth seeped into the water around him. He scrubbed his hands through his hair, cleaning the grime from it. For a long moment, he lingered there, allowing the absolute silence of the river around him to drown out the thoughts and noise from the past month of hard fighting. He returned home, everyone he cared for was safe. The worry and fear glided off his shoulders, dissipating into the water. He was home.

 Rising, he shook his head like a dog, the water spraying around him. When he opened his eyes, he expected to see Aine still on the grass laughing at his antics and prepared to tease him. 

 Instead she stood just out of arm's reach in the water. 

 Naked. 

 He smugly grinned, reaching his hands out towards her. "Could not resist me, huh?"

 Rolling her eyes, she stepped closer, placing a hand over his heart. His hands automatically moved to her hips, pulling her closer. He opened his mouth to further tease her but caught the words on his tongue. Her eyes seemed distant as she stared at her hand on his chest, biting her bottom lip. 

 "Cad é, mo grá?” He trailed a hand up and down her bare back, waiting for her to speak. He knew from experience it did no good to pressure her, so he continued to gaze at her, touch her and find happiness in her presence. (What is it, my love?)

 After several tense moments she finally whispered, not meeting his eyes. "An bhfuil tú sásta anseo?" (Are you happy here?)

 "Cad?" (What?)

 "An bhfuil tú sásta anseo ... i Coccham? Le mise? An bhfuil tú sásta?" (Are you happy here...in Coccham? With me? Are you happy?)

 "Cad a thug air seo?" He tipped her chin up to look into her face, looking into those bronze eyes he adored. (What brought this on?)

 "Bhí mé ag smaoineamh ar Éirinn agus tú imithe." (I was thinking about Irland while you were gone.)

 Ah. He waited for her, mixed feelings swirling within him. They had shared their pasts with one another about their lives in Irland before slavery. He had been so terrified to tell her of who he was there, what he had done. Yet instead of holding his past actions against him, she just kissed the tip of his nose and told him she would not be cleaning up his messes around their home, even if he was a prince. At that moment, he was unsure if he could ever love her more.

 "Ar mhaith leat riamh dul ar ais?" She asked, looking across the river. Something she had never asked before, after hearing his story. (Do you ever want to go back?)

 He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck for a second. This was not an easy question to answer and he appreciated her silence, letting him find his answer. Cupping her cheek, he tilted her face back up to meet her eyes. "Tá áiteanna ann a chailleann mé ansin, aye. Beidh Éirinn i mo chuid fola i gcónaí ... ach ní hé mo theach é a thuilleadh. Tá m’áit anseo. Le Uhtred ... agus Sihtric ... agus an manach leanbh. Agus tusa. Níor mhaith liom riamh a bheith gan tú. " (There are places I miss there, aye. Irland will always be in my blood...but it's no longer my home. My place is here. With Uhtred...and Sihtric...and the baby monk. And you. I never wish to be without you.)

 They pressed their foreheads together, eyes closed as they allowed the waves of memories from their past to crash over them for the briefest of minutes. The water from the river lapped against their bodies. The sunshine warmed their exposed skin. He ran a hand through her long hair, knowing she loved the sensation. They stayed that way for several minutes, just being with one another, no words needing to be spoken, born from familiarity and contentment. 

 "Ar mhaith leat filleadh ar Éirinn?" He ventured. (Do you want to return to Irland?)

 "Is tú mo bhaile. Sílim go raibh a fhios agam ar bhealach éigin nuair a chonaic mé tú i ndáiríre den chéad uair. Tháinig tú i mo dhóchas, i mo ancaire ... agus tá tú fós." (You are my home. I think I somehow knew that when I first truly saw you. You became my hope, my anchor...and you still are.)

 When she smiled at him, he pressed his lips to hers, overwhelmed by her statement. Soon what meant to be a reassuring, tender kiss became more. Hands roamed. Tongues clashed. Bodies pressed so close, water could not even find a way between them. He scooped her up, making her giggle as her legs wrapped around his waist and his hands on her arse. A fire built within him, her touch scorching him but he did not care. If anything, he wanted more. Finally, their lips broke apart, both of them breathing heavy. He wasted no time as his mouth trailed kisses along her jawline and down her throat. 

 "Finan…" She moaned, hands tangled in his hair. She tipped her head to the side so he had better access to her neck. "You are not humping me out here."

 "Why?" He asked between kisses. "This seems like a perfect spot."

 "Anyone could come by."

 "No one will come by, now shhh...let me worship you." Dropping his head to her chest, he traced her collarbones with his tongue. The whine it elicited from her made him rock hard just at the sound. 

 "No, oh Christ! Finan…"

 He chuckled, his tongue trailing downward. Shifting her slightly so she was at the perfect height, he kissed the valley between her breasts. He groaned when she tugged on his hair. A soft mantra of his name spilled from her lips, one of his favorite sounds. He tucked his head down, ready to lavish affections onto her breasts until she begged him to fill her. He squeezed her arse, making her rise slightly at the sensation, timing it so he opened his mouth and just about….

 "FINAN! AINE! Lord Uhtred needs you both at...AAAHHHH!!" 

 "DAMN IT, BABY MONK!!"

 Aine laughed loudly as she pressed a quick kiss to Finan's cheek. Then slippery as an eel, she slid out of his arms and swatted away his hands, desperate to pull her back. "We are coming, Osferth, thank you." She called out, taking a step towards the bank. 

 "No, we are not!" Finan yelled, knowing that Osferth was most likely racing back, red-faced and stuttering. "Tell Uhtred we are busy and…"

 She interrupted his outburst by splashing him as he tried to snake an arm around her waist. "Finan, your lord needs you. You cannot say no."

 "I am certain he would understand why." He grumbled, pulling her against his body. He began peppering her shoulder with kisses as his hands went to where his lips should have been right now. 

 "Níos déanaí, mo ghrá ..." She batted his hands away, slipping from him once more. (Later, my love…)

 His eyes narrowed as he stalked closer, matching her retreating steps. That same hot blood still coursed through her veins as his own if her rosy cheeks and pupils that resembled full moons said anything. Though, as they moved closer to the bank, the water's height lessened around their bodies. The view it gave him was something he certainly did not mind. She was glorious in her nakedness, completely unashamed before him. He wondered if she would allow a quick romp in the grass...to help them dry off, of course.  

 Somehow reading his mind, she stopped and pressed a single finger to his lips as they almost reached the bank. "If you behave, we can play a game."

 "A game? Like what?"

 Her finger trailed down his lips, down his chest and stomach to his manhood, giving it a quick pump that caused him to groan aloud. "Guess you will have to be good to find out." She released him with a flirtatious wink and stepped out of the water. 

 "Woman! You cannot tease me like this!"

 She blew him a kiss, wringing out her brown locks and giggling. 

 He just stood there admiring her. Through all the shite he had lived through and pain he endured, she was the treasure at the end of the rainbow. He thanked God daily for bringing her into his life. Even after meeting her in Islond, she continued to save him, be his peace, his support and his joy. He loved her. There was no question about that. There was no one else he wanted by his side, in his bed or holding his heart. She meant everything to him. But the part that still astounded him daily; he knew she reciprocated those same feelings and sentiments. 

 Who would have guessed that the worst time in his life, he would also find his salvation...the love of his life.

[ivarthebadbitch]

Strange things can happen

Chapter 8 summary: Ivar fucks around and finds out.

Canon divergent, everybody lives, arranged marriage AU after 4x14. Read this chapter on Ao3.

Previous chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

On Ao3: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Pairings: Ivar x OC, Ivar vs. basically everyone

Warnings: None

Word count: 3468 (big chapter this time!)

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @nukyster-blog @bae-roman @adhdnightmare (let me know if you would like to be tagged)

CHAPTER 8: And lead us not into temptation

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.”

“Have your debts been forgiven, Father Wilfred?” the boy asked.

The priest looked up warily from his prayer book. He had been reluctant to teach Ivar again after their first lesson, but under pressure from Prince Aethelwulf and his daughter Aldreda, he had little choice but agree—on the condition that Ivar was not to touch any of his books ever again, let alone eat the pages. Everyone had felt that this was a reasonable request, and so lessons had resumed.

Father Wilfred cleared his throat and continued the prayer. “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.” He crossed himself and frowned at Ivar. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The boy raised his eyebrows. He reached out, grabbed at the priest’s sleeve, and poked his finger through a hole in the fabric just below his wrist. “I think you do,” he said slyly. “I heard you had a problem with your debts, Father Wilfred. As a matter of fact, I heard you stole from the church.” He clicked his tongue. “I can help you.”

Father Wilfred scoffed and pulled away. How in God’s name had the boy heard about that? “I doubt that very much. I sinned, but the king has been gracious.”

“Of course,” Ivar nodded. “And I am sure you have done nothing since then that would cause him to regret his decision to show you mercy.”

He dabbed at the small beads of sweat forming on his forehead. It was a bluff, surely. There was absolutely no way that this boy could know that, in a moment of weakness about a month ago, he had taken a small silver bowl that had been carelessly left out on the altar after mass. Although Ecbert had pardoned him before, he wasn’t the only individual to whom he still owed money, and those others were not so forgiving. But Ivar didn’t know about that. Or did he? 

He swallowed hard. “What do you want?”

Ivar leaned in close and lowered his voice. “I want you to help me escape this place and return home to Kattegat. I promise you that the reward will make it worthwhile.”

Father Wilfred stared at him. To meddle with the family of the king bordered on treason, and was a far worse crime than stealing or gambling. As the son of Ragnar Lothbrok, Ivar would no doubt be fine if they were caught conspiring, but Father Wilfred certainly could not plead for leniency on the basis of maintaining important diplomatic ties. His head would be on a stake in the courtyard in hours. 

His jaw twitched. “How much can you give me in return?” 

Ivar told him, and his eyes widened. With that amount, he could pay off his most demanding creditors and still have enough left over to leave Wessex and begin a new life somewhere else, far from Ecbert’s reach—assuming, of course, that Ivar could actually deliver what he was promising, which was no certain thing. It was reckless and risky. But it was a way out. Perhaps God had provided for him after all.

“Is it enough?” Ivar asked nervously. For a brief moment, Father Wilfred could see the desperation in his eyes. If he didn’t agree, then the boy had told him his conspiracy for nothing. And given their first encounter, it gave him some small amount of satisfaction to watch him sweat.

“It is,” he said at last, and watched Ivar breathe a small sigh of relief.

The boy stuck out his hand and after a moment and against his better judgment, Father Wilfred reached out and shook it. “So it’s agreed, then?”

God, he was absolutely going to regret this. “Agreed.”

                                                            ***

Ivar dedicated the next two weeks to reconnaissance while Father Wilfred arranged his transportation to the nearest port and secured his spot on a boat home. He worked out the schedule of the guards that were assigned to patrol the hallway during the night. He found a suitable location to meet the priest for when he made his escape. He discovered that the gates to the villa were usually closed at sunset, except for the nights before and after a feast for one of the many Christian saints. On those nights, it was normal for carts full of food and drink to arrive and depart at all hours, and the guards tended to be more lax in their inspections. Lucky for him, one such feast was fast approaching.

The Feasts of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, as Aldreda explained to him with probably more patience than he deserved, commemorated the martyrdom of the two apostles. The main thing he took away from the whole story was that Christians had some sort of unhealthy fixation on crucifixion. Aldreda gave him a little smack on the shoulder when he told her this, but she didn’t exactly deny it. 

Since their trip to Mercia, she had been more relaxed around him and wasn’t going out of her way to avoid him any longer. By the gods, she had even kissed him. To his profound relief, nothing had happened after that and she hadn’t pressed him on it. Not that he wasn’t interested—even though she didn’t look much like the usual type of woman he liked, he found her attractive enough in her own way—but the prospect of trying and failing with a woman once again terrified him. It wasn’t even important if nobody else ever found out. He would know and she would know for certain that he wasn’t really a man, not in the way that mattered.

At any rate, he would be gone soon and then it really wouldn’t matter. He just had to sit through an exceptionally long and boring mass first. He was too on edge to nod off to sleep as he usually did during these things, so he ended up fidgeting and shuffling around in his seat until Aldreda inevitably jabbed an elbow into his ribs. 

“Ow,” he whispered, pretending she had hurt him more than she actually had. She rolled her eyes and he grinned back.

Finally, after an eternity of listening to the archbishop blather on in Latin and watching everyone else in the room but him go up to the altar to eat the bread god, it was time for the actual feast. The guards carried him to the main hall, which had been fully transformed for the banquet. The first dishes had been brought out by the servants and the wine was already flowing by the time he settled into his usual place at Aldreda’s side at the highest table, which was reserved for Ecbert’s family. Ecbert stood up and clapped his hands, gave a mercifully short blessing, and the feast began in earnest.

Ivar cast his gaze around the hall in what he hoped was a casual manner, until he finally spotted Father Wilfred on the far side of the room. When he caught the priest’s eye, he gave him a cheerful little wave. Father Wilfred immediately looked away. As long as the miserable little priest wasn’t planning to betray him, that was fine. Now it was time to set the next part of his plan in motion.

A servant came by with a wine jug, and he held out his cup. After the girl had filled his cup, he gestured for her to fill Aldreda’s next. “To my wife,” he said, and clinked his cup against hers. Aldreda blushed and took a long sip.

He made sure to keep her cup full throughout the feast. Though she was not a particularly small woman, she was no match for him when it came to holding her liquor. She soon grew tipsy and then somewhat more than tipsy. By the point she nearly fell backwards out of her chair, he decided he had gone far enough. The banquet was winding down anyway; the hall was already half empty and the servants were busy carting empty platters back to the kitchen and mopping up spilled food and drink.

With a word to the ever-present guards, one man draped Ivar’s arm across his shoulder and levered him up while the other offered Aldreda a hand and steadied her when she stumbled. Ivar felt a sudden surge of frustration as he watched. He was her husband and that was supposed to be his job, if only...

“Ivar?” Aldreda asked him woozily. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he lied. “Let’s go to bed.”

They finally made their way back to their room, albeit more slowly than usual. Aldreda stumbled to the bed and sat down heavily beside him, hiccuping and then giggling at her own hiccups. She fumbled a little while undoing the buttons on the front of her dress, and Ivar waved away the servant who stepped forward to help her. “You can leave us,” he said. “I’ll take care of her.”

Once the servant was gone, he took over the task of helping her out of her dress, letting down her hair, and unclasping her necklace. “I don’t know why, but I think you wanted to get me drunk tonight,” she accused him, words slurring together. She giggled again and bunched the fabric of her shift between her fingers. “Are you trying to seduce me? Do you think that if you give a lady enough wine, you can get her to do whatever you want?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, unable to stop himself from blushing. He hoped he could hide her necklace before she noticed, but she stood up, crossed the room on unsteady feet, and dropped it on top of the dressing table where she usually kept it. Then she plopped back down on the bed and watched as he undressed. For the first time in weeks, he suddenly felt shy around her. 

“You could try, if you want,” she said. “To seduce me, I mean. I wouldn’t mind. We’re married, after all.”

“You’re drunk,” he told her bluntly as he set aside his shirt. He didn’t think she was mocking him, but he couldn’t quite believe she actually meant it either. At any rate, her timing couldn’t have been worse. “And you know I can’t do that.” 

His words came out more harshly than he had intended, and she winced. “I meant no offense,” she said.

He sighed. “I know you didn’t.”

They didn’t talk after that. Aldreda turned on her side, facing away from him. Before long, he heard her breathing grow slow and steady. He lay on his back, wide awake, and watched the shadows move across the ceiling. There was nothing he could do now except wait until Father Wilfred was ready for him, but his mind was already racing ahead to the next thing. By evening the next day, he would be on a boat headed home. He could already picture the approach to Kattegat and the curious crowd gathered on the dock, with his parents and brothers at the front waiting for him...

The bells rang. It was exactly one hour after midnight. With his heart thumping in his chest, Ivar slid out of bed as quietly as he could and started to get dressed. Usually, he would just scatter his clothes on the ground and let a servant pick them up for him later, but tonight, he had been careful to keep everything he needed in a neat pile so he wouldn’t waste time fumbling around. As he pulled on his boots and laced up the leather braces he wore around his legs, he listened to Aldreda snoring faintly on the bed. She was normally a heavy sleeper anyway, but with all the wine he had plied her with, he felt certain she would not wake.

Once he was fully dressed, he crawled over to the dressing table she had left her necklace on top of. Ivar suddenly realized that it was just out of his reach while he was on his hands and knees. He let out a quiet curse as he gripped the edges of the table and painstakingly pulled himself to his feet. 

Aldreda shifted in bed and he froze, his legs trembling underneath him as he tried to keep his balance. “Ivar?” she asked sleepily. 

“Go back to sleep,” he told her. He could feel the table starting to tip and he threw all his weight forward to prevent it—and himself—from crashing to the floor. He had prepared an excuse in case Aldreda woke while he was getting dressed or leaving, but it would be a little more difficult to explain to her that he had inadvertently knocked over her dressing table while trying to steal her mother’s necklace as a bribe for his escape attempt.

“Mm,” she answered. She rolled over and her breathing slowed once again, and Ivar let out a silent sigh of relief. He quickly snatched the necklace, lowered himself back down to the floor, and shoved it into his pocket before he could change his mind. It’s just a necklace, he lied to himself. Her father can get her another one.

He knew he couldn’t linger any longer. The guard that patrolled the hall outside their room would be changing soon, and he had to time it so that he left while the hallway was clear and before the next set of guards arrived. He crawled to the door and strained his ears, listening to the faint murmur of voices on the other side. An eternity passed before he finally heard them walking away.

Ivar exhaled slowly and waited another moment. He cast one final look back at Aldreda before reaching up to grab the handle and tentatively pushing the door open.

The hallway was empty. The next set of guards was late, no doubt caught up in the aftermath of the feast. He silently thanked the gods, dragged himself into the hall, and carefully shut the door behind him, checking again to make sure he hadn’t been seen. Then he made his way as quietly and as quickly as he could to the meeting place he had chosen with Father Wilfred. 

The priest was already waiting for him inside the rarely-used storage room down the hall, tapping his foot impatiently as Ivar crawled inside. “You’re late,” Father Wilfred snapped. The man looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and he kept anxiously glancing over his shoulder even though it was just the two of them in the room. He held out his hand. “I want what you promised me.”

“Fine.” Ivar took the necklace out of his pocket and reluctantly handed it over. The priest held it in his hands for a moment as though weighing it, and then he stuffed it down his shirt. They both knew there would be no going back for either of them after this. 

“Cover yourself,” the priest ordered, tossing Ivar a large, dirty blanket in return. After Ivar wrapped himself in the blanket and covered his head, Father Wilfred picked him up with a grunt and slung him over his shoulder, staggering under his weight.

“Really?” Ivar groaned as Father Wilfred started walking. It would be extremely obvious to anybody they passed that the priest was carrying a body, blanket or no blanket. “This is the best disguise you could come up with? We’re going to get caught.”

“We will definitely get caught if you keep talking,” Father Wilfred whispered back. “And if you had a better idea for a disguise, you should’ve told me. You’re the most recognizable person in this entire palace!”

“That’s not my fault,” Ivar said, but he shut up after that. From inside the blanket, he had no clue which direction Father Wilfred was taking him, and for a moment, he wondered if he had horribly misjudged the man. The priest could be taking him straight to Aethelwulf to tell him everything. Then they’d toss him in the dungeon and leave him there for the rest of his life. He could call the man a liar, but it would be no use—after all, it was hard to come up with an innocent explanation for why he had just stolen Aldreda’s mother’s necklace and had himself wrapped in a blanket to get smuggled out of the palace.  

Fortunately for him, Father Wilfred did not take him to Aethelwulf. After a considerable amount of huffing and puffing and Ivar repeatedly banging his chin into the priest’s back as he went down some stairs, Father Wilfred finally paused, dumped Ivar on the ground, and pulled the blanket off his head. 

Ivar blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. They had ended up on the grounds just outside the kitchen, behind a cart full of wine barrels. Father Wilfred was saying a few words to a burly man that Ivar assumed was the owner of the cart. Then he turned back to Ivar and gestured to an empty barrel that was lying on its side. “In you go,” he said. “Everything has been arranged. My friend here will take you directly to the closest port and the boat to Kattegat.”

Ivar looked dubiously at the inside of the empty barrel. It seemed far too small. “You can’t be serious,” he complained, but after a moment he scooted inside and discovered that it was indeed a very tight fit. His joints protested as he tried to fold his legs in closer to his body in a hopeless attempt to get comfortable. The wood reeked of wine and it made him slightly nauseous. 

Once he was in, Father Wilfred and the other man turned the barrel upright and lifted it onto the cart. Ivar looked up to see the priest staring down at him with a thoroughly annoyed expression on his face. It occurred to him that he was unlikely to see Father Wilfred after this. He opened his mouth to speak.

“I hope I never see you again in my life,” Father Wilfred said before he could say anything. Then he jammed down the lid and left Ivar in almost complete darkness.

He waited there for what felt like years. Finally, the cart began to move. He gritted his teeth as they hit seemingly every pothole in the road and he attempted without success to find a better position for his cramped legs. With the lid on the barrel, the smell of stale alcohol was nearly overwhelming and he could hardly keep himself from retching. 

His adrenaline had kept him going all night, but as the cart rattled on through the darkness he finally felt himself growing sleepy. Despite the discomfort of being squeezed into a barrel, he ended up dozing intermittently and then jolting awake whenever the cart hit a rough patch. After the first few times this happened, he found himself longing for the soft sheets and down-filled pillows on Aldreda’s bed, and the gentle warmth of the sunlight hitting his face in the morning, and lying there half-awake until finally Aldreda yawned and nudged him to get up…

Gods, what was wrong with him? He had left all of that behind. He tried instead to think about home, and everything he was going to do when he made it back to Kattegat—assuming his mother ever let him out of her sight again. But he would wear her down eventually. He always did.

After a long while, he could hear the birds starting to chirp, and around the edges of the lid, there was the faintest hint of light. He inhaled deeply, trying in vain to pick up the smell of salty air over the stench of old wine. Father Wilfred had told him it would be a day’s journey to reach the port by cart, but perhaps he had overestimated it. They might be there sooner. 

The cart came to an abrupt halt. Ivar heard men talking and then the sound of somebody climbing onto the back of the cart. His heart beat faster. Perhaps the cart driver had decided they were far enough away from the royal villa and it was safe to let him out. Or maybe they had already arrived. Once he was on the boat, nothing—barring another storm or some other intervention of the gods—would keep him from making it home to Kattegat.

The top of the barrel was suddenly wrenched open. Ivar blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light only to find Aethelwulf glaring down at him. His father-in-law’s face was red with fury.

[shining-red-diamond]

Over the Rainbow (ACT I)

Genre: Fluff, angst in some parts, Wizard of Oz!AU

Word count: 7.1k

Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence, kidnapping, illness, and death; fluff, some peril

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Reader x TBZ English line (Jacob, Kevin, and Eric) (feat. Sangyeon and Kim Chungha)

DISCLAIMER: I’ve changed a few elements to make this story have my own spin on it. It still follows the same basic storyline of the 1939 film.

Dust from the dirt path kicked up from Y/N’s shoes as she ran with her dog away from Mrs. Gulch’s garden. The old grouch had nearly put Toto out of his misery with her rake. Y/N she was going to be in trouble for allowing her precious dog to chase Mrs. Gulch’s cat, but all she worried about now was if her dog was hurt.

“I’m calling the sheriff, young lady!” Mrs. Gulch had threatened the second the two had escaped the garden. “And you better had put that mutt away!”

As soon as she felt far away enough from the old woman’s house, Y/N knelt down by her dog.

“Did she hurt you, boy?” she asked the small, black, wiry-haired dog as she checked his back. Toto just wagged his tail as if nothing was wrong, which told Y/N that he was fine. “She tried to, didn’t she?” –She snuggled him to her chest- “Come on. We’ll go tell Auntie Em and Uncle Henry what happened.”

It was only another half mile before Y/N spotted her family’s farm just about a football field in the distance, and within a few seconds she had reached the gate camouflaged in the white picket fence. Y/N found her aunt and uncle busying themselves in the chicken coop counting baby chicks as the little birds peeped.

Emily (Em for short) was about mid-fifties, her golden-washed hair pulled back into a low bun, revealing the wrinkles on her careworn face. She was a kind and gracious woman in town, but when she was working on the farm or busy in the kitchen, there was no stopping her. When she wanted something done, she made sure to get it done. Her husband Henry was her age, maybe a couple years her senior. He had a few more wrinkles than Em and was balding at the top of his head. Like his wife, Henry was kind and caring, but he was a little more laid back when it came to busy work. However, he was still a hard-worker and had established the farm from scratch.

Y/N had come to live with them after her parents passed when she was ten years old. It was an adjustment from the city into life in the country, but Em and Henry were gracious to let Y/N to come live with them.

“Auntie Em!” Y/N called as she rushed in, Toto following close behind her. “Auntie Em! Uncle Henry!”

“22, 23, 24,” Em counted each chick.

“Auntie Em,” Y/N was now right next her aunt, “you’ll never believe what Mrs. Gulch did to Toto. She-“

“Now, Y/N,” Em sighed, “can’t you see we’re busy? We’re trying to count.”

Y/N didn’t listen as she ran over to her uncle. “Uncle Henry, I was on my way home-“

“Did you not hear, your Aunt, dear?” Henry interrupted. “The incubator’s broke, so we’re trying to make sure we didn’t lose any babies.”

“Oh, the poor little things.” She managed to stroke one of the chicks’ fuzzy, yellow head with her fingertip. “But Aunt Em, Mrs. Gulch hit Toto right over the back with her rake, because she says he gets in her garden and chases her nasty, old cat every day.”

Em took that chick and said, “Why don’t you run along, and we’ll talk at supper?”

Y/N ignored her. “But he doesn’t do it every day,” she continued her rant. “Just once or twice a week. And he can’t catch her old cat, anyway. Now, she says she’s gonna get the sheriff-“

“Y/N, please!” her aunt begged.

With a defeated sigh, Y/N knew she wasn’t going to get her aunt and uncle’s attention right now. Instead of trying again, she decided to try to console to the farmhands, Toto trotting behind her.

All three of them were friends to Y/N. Kevin was the comedian of the group. He always got his work done, but he also new how to make others laugh while doing so. He was once caught dancing with a pitchfork when Uncle Henry played his record player to pass the time. Jacob was the gentle father figure; maybe it was because he was a dad himself. He and his wife had moved into to town about a year earlier, and Auntie Em had helped her deliver their daughter. As a farmhand, he always made sure to work hard at whatever task he was assigned. The youngest of the bunch, Eric, was Y/N’s best friend, but he always tended to act like it was something more. He was a sweetheart, but like the other two, he was a hard worker.

Most days, Eric always had a smile on his face, but now, with a smashed finger, he was not in the best mood.

“There goes my finger,” he groaned.

“Better your finger than your head,” Kevin said as he started carrying food to the pigs’ feeding trough.

“Kevin,” Y/N went up to him, “what am I gonna about do Mrs. Gulch? Just because Toto chases her old cat-“

“Listen, honey,” he interrupted her, “I’ve got the hogs to feed.”

“Now, listen, Y/N,” Eric chimed in, “you’re not using your head about Mrs. Gulch. Think you didn’t have any brains at all.”

“I have brains.”

“Then, why don’t you use them? When you come home, don’t go by Mrs. Gulch’s place, then Toto won’t get in her garden, and you won’t get in no trouble. See?”

“Oh, Eric,” Y/N scoffed. “You just won’t listen, that’s all.”

Eric began on another task before replying, “Well, you’re head’s not made of straw, you know?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and walked away from him. She wandered over to where Kevin was rounding up the pigs into their pen.

“Come on,” he commanded them. “Get in there before I make a dime bank out of you.”

Out of boredom, Y/N climbed onto the wide fence and started to walk across them, keeping her arms out to maintain her balance.

“Listen, kid,” Kevin said before filling the pigs’ trough. “Are you gonna let that old heffer mess with you? She’s nothing to be afraid of. Have a little courage, is all.”

“I’m not afraid of her,” Y/N justified as she continued her walk.

“Then, the next time she squawks, walk right up to her and spit in her eye. That’s what I’d do.”

Kevin was also the most reliable to talk to when you had a problem. Even the smallest of issues you would be facing would be met with advice from Kevin, even if it came of as a joke or a bit of sarcasm.

Y/N started to laugh, but it ended up making her lose her balance. She flew down into the pigpen as they began running around in fear of what just dropped into their living area.

Afraid of getting trampled, Y/N cried for help.

“Kevin, help!” she screamed. “Get me out of here! Help!”

Within a split second, Kevin had booked it over to her, scooped her out of the pen, and carried her to safety. Eric and Jacob helped her stand, and poor Kevin sat down with his hat off and a hand over his heart.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Jacob asked with concern laced in his voice.

“Yes, I’m okay,” she assured, her voice trembling a little. “I fell in, and Kevin-“ She noticed the farmhand shaking; sweat beginning to run from his dark hairline. “Why Kevin, you’re just as scared as I am.”

“What’s the matter?” Eric teased. “A little pig make a coward out of you?”

“What’s all of the jabber-whopping when there’s work to be done?” Auntie Em’s voice disrupted the laughter. The other four immediately went silent. “I know three farmhands who’ll be out of a job before they know it.”

“Well, Y/N was walking along-,” Jacob chuckled as he tried to explain, but was interrupted by Aunt Em.

“I saw you tinkering with that contraption, Jacob,” she shut him up quickly. “Now, you and Eric get back to that wagon.”

“Alright, Mrs. Gale,” Jacob sighed as he began to walk away, be he almost immediately turned back around. “But someday they’re gonna build a statue of me in this town, and-“

“Well, don’t start posing for it now.”

Eric laughed, and then Aunt Em gave them some dill pickles to snack on.

Kevin took one and tried to explain what had happened, but Em put her foot down.

“It’s no place for Y/N around a pigsty,” she informed. “Now you go mind those hogs before they worry themselves into anemia.”

“Yes, Mrs. Gale,” Kevin nodded.

Em and Y/N began walking away, and Y/N took the opportunity to try to talk to her aunt again.

“Auntie Em, really,” she whined again, “you know what Mrs. Gulch said she’s gonna do to Toto? She said she was gonna-“

Em just shook her had and told, “Now, Y/N, you must stop imagining things. You always get yourself into a fuss over nothing. You just help us out today, and find yourself where you won’t get yourself into any trouble.”

She scurried off, leaving Y/N standing in shock. Her aunt was always there to help her when she needed it, but Y/N had a tendency to exaggerate things at times. She guessed that her aunt thought this was one of those times, but she understood. Maybe Mrs. Gulch was just threatening her and Toto out of spite as usual, but the look on the old grouch’s face said otherwise.

“Someplace where there isn’t any trouble,” Y/N sighed. She looked at her furry friend, who was sitting on the ground and looking up at her as if taking in her every word.

“You think there is such a place, Toto?” Y/N asked, her mind wandering as she strolled over by the old tractor. “There must be. It’s not a place you can get to by a boat or a train. It’s far, far away. Behind the moon, beyond the rain.”

She then remembered a song Aunt Em would sing to her whenever she felt sad and began to sing.

“Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high

There’s a land that I’ve heard of

Once in a lullaby

Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue

And the dreams that you’ve dared to dream

Really do come true

Someday I’ll wish upon a star

And wake up where the clouds are far behind me

Where troubles melt like lemon drops

Away above the chimney tops

That’s where you’ll find me

Somewhere over the rainbow, blue birds fly

Birds fly over the rainbow

Why then, of why can’t I?”

Toto jumped up on the seat of the tractor, and Y/N snuggled him for a second before listening to a few birds chirp. She looked up and gazed up some rays of sun pouring into a tear in the clouds, lighting up the gloominess of the farm just a little bit, almost giving a sense of hope.

Y/N then finished her song.

“If happy little blue birds fly beyond the rainbow,

Why oh why can’t I?”

-

“That dog is a menace to the community!” Mrs. Gulch barked. “I’m taking him to the sheriff to have him destroyed.”

The forty-something year old woman sat up straight in the chair across from Em. Her raven locks were pulled into a tight bun, and her hat was perched on top of her head as if it would fly off at any given moment. Mrs. Gulch had dressed in her Sunday best, but she wasn’t here for a church sermon. She had come for something sinister.

Her words were like punch in the stomach to Y/N. “D-Destroyed? Toto?”

Mrs. Gulch gave a slight nod.

“Oh no, you can’t,” Y/N begged. “You mustn’t! Auntie Em, Uncle Henry, you won’t let her take him, will you?”

Uncle Henry gave her a reassuring smile. “Of course we won’t, dear,” he promised. “Will we, Em?”

Y/N turned to her aunt, who now had a conflicted look on her face.

“Please, Auntie Em,” she begged. “Toto didn’t mean to. He didn’t know he was doing anything wrong. I’m the one who should be punished. I let him go in her garden. You can send me to bed without dinner.”

“If you don’t hand over that beast,” Mrs. Gulch threatened. “I’ll bring a damage suit that’ll take your whole farm. There’s a law protecting folks against dogs that bite.”

“How about if she keeps him tied up?” Em suggested. “He’s really gentle, with gentle people, that is.”

Mrs. Gulch was taken aback at her neighbor’s words. “Well, “ she huffed, “that’s for the sheriff to decide.” –she reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper- “Here’s his orders allowing me to take him, unless you want to go against the law.”

Auntie Em took the sheet and read it, and Uncle Henry came over to take a look at the order as well.

“We can’t go against the law, Y/N,” Em shook her head as her voice began to shake. “I’m afraid poor Toto had to go.”

“Now you’re seeing reason,” Mrs. Gulch scoffed as she opened her basket. “Here’s what I’m taking him in, so he can’t attack me again. Just put the little rat into the basket.”

This triggered Y/N’s anger even more. “NO, I WON’T LET YOU TAKE HIM!!!” she screamed as she forcefully pushed the basket away. “YOU GO AWAY, OR I’LL BITE YOU MYSELF!”

“Y/N!” Em snapped.

Y/N didn’t take her angry eyes off of their grouchy neighbor. She could feel her tears start to push through.

“You wicked old witch!” she spat as her tears started to fall. “Uncle Henry, Auntie Em, don’t let her take Toto.”

Mrs. Gulch tried to grab Toto out of Y/N’s arms, but she fought against her.

“Henry, just put Toto in the basket,” Em sighed as she massaged one of her temples.

As much as Y/N wanted to resist, she wouldn’t fight her beloved uncle. He was a gentle man, not a fighter. Unless matters got too out of hand, then he would take the appropriate action to settle a dispute. This being why Y/N froze the moment he gently pulled Toto from her arms. The same man who had given her a best friend when she was fourteen was now the one taking him away from her. Sorrow even began to grow on her uncle’s face.

The water works flowed as she watched her best friend being put into the wooden basket. Toto even started to whine a little. Y/N’s heart felt heavy, her head dizzy, and she felt sick. Her feet ran her to her bedroom. She slammed the door and threw herself on the floor and sobbed. She was heartbroken.

For about ten minutes, Y/N cried on the floor, not caring who heard. Toto. Her sweet little dog. Y/N had only tried to let Toto run around to exercise, but why the old grouch’s garden of all places, she’ll never figure it out.

Once she was calm, she sat up and leaned against her bed, beginning to accept that Toto was gone for good.

Two little barks interrupted her thoughts. She looked up and Toto jumped through her open window and onto her bed. He licked her face as if to say, “I’m never leaving you.”

“Toto!” she cried before embracing her pet. “Oh my gosh! You came back!”

Y/N held Toto for about a minute before she realized, “They’ll probably be looking for you once they discover you’re gone.”

Although he was only a dog, Y/N always knew he was smarter than the average canine. If he somehow escaped Mrs. Gulch’s basket, he could possibly escape bigger situations than that.

However, Y/N wasn’t about to let anyone take Toto away from her again. She pulled back, looked at Toto in the eye, and said, “We’ve got to run away.”

As soon as she had packed all that she would need and could carry such as some clothes, shoes, and some of her own money stash from under her bed, she and Toto escaped out of her bedroom window. The two of them took the back roads and headed south. Y/N didn’t know where she was going, but she wanted to be as far away from all of her troubles as much as possible.

After a few minutes of walking, Y/N and Toto came across a large caravan painted in blue with gold and red lettering declaring, “Professor Lee! Acclaimed by the Crowned Heads of Asia.” The closer Y/N got, she could hear a man’s voice singing random tunes.

The owner of the voice then rounded the corner of the caravan and immediately spotted Y/N. He was fairly tall, young man of Asian decent and wore a dark green suit and chocolate brown dress shoes.

“Well, a house guest,” he greeted her with a smile before crossing over to sit by a fire pit that Y/N just now noticed was burning. “Now, may I ask who you are? No, don’t tell me. Let’s see.” –He scanned Y/N up and down- “You’re…going on a visit.”

Y/N shook her head.

“No, that’s not it.” The professor thought again. “You’re traveling in disguise. Nope, wait, you’re running away.”

“How did you guess?” Y/N asked with a smile.

“Professor Lee Sangyeon never guesses,” he claimed with a chuckle. “He knows. Now, why are you running away? No, don’t tell me. Uh…They don’t understand you, or appreciate you. You want to see the world. Cities, oceans, mountains, everything.”

Y/N nearly jumped out of her shoes. “It’s like you could read what was in my head! Oh, please, professor, could Toto and I join you and see all of the crowned heads of Asia?”

“You know any?” Professor Lee asked, then realized what she was talking about. “Oh! Well, I don’t do anything without consulting my crystal first. How about we head inside and I’ll show you?”

Sangyeon guided Y/N to the entrance of his caravan, allowing her to step in first. The inside of the caravan was full of all sorts of treasures. A skull sat on top of the doorframe, colorful paper lanterns lined the ceiling, small jade figurines of various gods lined the walls, and suede furniture sat in the center of all of his collection of treasures. Wax candles sat on each side of the chairs. The furniture surrounded a small wooden table with the most sparkling crystal sphere Y/N had ever seen perched in its holder.

“Have a seat,” Sangyeon motioned towards one of the chairs. When she did so, he began lighting each candle. “This is the same magic crystal used by the priests of Isis and Osiris in the days of the Pharaohs of Egypt in which Cleopatra saw the approach of Julius Caesar and Mark Antony and so on and so forth.”

Y/N watched in awe as the professor prepped the room for his reading. She knew it was probably all an act for a circus somewhere, but she still wanted to see what he was doing.

“Now, you’d better close your eyes, my dear,” the professor instructed. “Just for a moment to be better in tune with the infinite.”

With a nod, she did as she was told. What she didn’t realize was Professor Lee was looking through her basket to find some sort of picture of her and her family to better set up his act. He found one of her, Uncle Henry, and Aunt Em taken in front of the farm the previous summer.

“We can’t do these things without reaching out into the unknown,” he continued before putting the picture back in the basket. “Alright, you can open your eyes now, and we’ll gaze into the crystal.”

Y/N opened her eyes again and watched as the professor stared the crystal ball as if he were studying it very closely. She couldn’t see anything happening, but the act displayed in front of her was making her believe it was real.

“What’s this I see?” he asked to no one in particular, his eyes glued to the crystal. “A house with a picket fence, and a barn with a weathervane. And also, a running horse.”

“That’s our farm,” Y/N pointed out.

“And there’s a woman with graying hair at the temples, a striped dress, and she has a careworn face.”

“That’s Aunt Em.” Is he really seeing everything? She thought.

“Short for Emily?”

“That’s right. What’s she doing?”

Professor Lee’s face twisted into a confused expression. “I can’t quite see. Oh, she’s crying. Someone has hurt her. Someone has just about broken her heart.”

Y/N’s own heart was about to break just hearing this. Of course she was angry that Toto had to be taken away, but was running away the best option?

“Me?” she asked.

“Well, it’s someone she loves very much,” Professor Lee shrugged. “Someone she’s been very kind to and cared for in times of sickness.”

Y/N was getting anxious. “I had really bad pneumonia once. But she stayed right by me every minute. What’s she doing now?”

He had figured she was running away out of some sort of anger, and just from the picture he could tell she was close to her family. Y/N was the first young person to come to him in hopes of finding something better, however, he knew he should at least try to help them make amends with their families. Y/N was no different.

Seeing how upset Y/N was getting, Professor Lee had one last trick up his sleeve. Glancing at his crystal again, the professor’s face displayed a look of shock. “What’s this? She’s placing her hand on her heart, and dropping down on her bed.”

“No,” Y/N began to sob.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but the crystal’s gone dark.”

She couldn’t stay any longer. If her beloved aunt was having a heart attack or stroke, then she needed to go home and try to help her or call a doctor.

“You don’t think she could really be sick, do you?” Y/N suggested as she hastily stood from her chair. “Oh, I’ve got to go home right away!”

“What’s this? I thought you were going to travel with me.”

“Oh, no, I have to get to her right away. Come on, Toto.”

The dog immediately followed Y/N out of the caravan. Professor Lee also followed her out and waved good-bye to her.

“Good-bye, Professor,” Y/N called back to him. “And thank you!”

Professor Lee noticed the drastic change in the weather. What began as a sunny autumn day quickly turned into a mighty windstorm. A tornado was approaching, and he needed to get himself and his horse to the nearest shelter possible.

“Woah, there, boy!” he instructed his horse, Gold Foot, as he caught hold of his reigns. “Better get undercover. There’s a storm brewing up. Poor kid. I hope she gets home alright.”

Back at the farm, chickens were running around panicked, horses were neighing in fright, the cows didn’t seem to care, but the pigs squealed in terror. Kevin and Eric were busy getting the animals to safety as much as possible. Jacob had rushed home to join his wife and baby daughter in their tornado shelter. He helped as much as he could, but Em and Henry told him to go home and protect his family. However, it was still chaos.

“Hurry up and get them horses loose!” Kevin shouted orders to Eric over the loud and wailing winds. “Where’s Jacob?!”

“He has a wife and child to protect!” the younger farmhand reminded him. “So he’s gone into shelter with them!”

Kevin looked up at the sky as Eric went to release the horses from the barn. No longer was it just a partly cloudy day. The sky was covered in a thick black, blanket as a cylinder of wind and dust violently pirouetted though neighboring fields.

“It’s a twister! A twister!” Kevin cried.

Em and Henry gathered everything they needed for the shelter such as food, lanterns, and a few blankets, and Em had gone to get Y/N. To her horror, her niece was missing. She thought Y/N had been in her room, but it was empty. Panicked, she ran around the house and farm, calling out for her every few seconds.

“Y/N! Y/N!” she screamed her nieces name over the tornado.

“Come on, everybody!” Henry rounded everyone up. “In the storm cellar!”

“Help me, Henry! Y/N’s somewhere out in the storm!”

“We can’t look for her now! We have to get in the cellar!”

Em was terrified she wouldn’t see her precious niece again. All she had to do was hope she would be okay once everything calmed.

The wind used all of its might to knock Y/N down as she and Toto made their way back to the farm. The dog began to bark, not wanting to brave it by standing on his own two feet. Y/N was quick to scoop him up and carry him back; leaning forward as she marched to she wouldn’t be knocked over.

“Auntie Em!” she called out. No answer.

The gate was jammed as she fought it open, breaking the lock as she did so. She had some leverage as the house blocked some of the winds force, but Y/N still had to fight her way in. She got the screen door open, but it immediately broke off and was carried off into the storm. However, Y/N was able to get herself and Toto into the house and shut the main door.

“Auntie Em! Uncle Henry!” she called again.

When she went out back to try to open the shelter, it was too late. It was closed and locked. She kicked and screamed for her relatives, but there was no chance of her getting in. She would have to brave the storm alone with her dog and hope for survival.

Y/N retreated to her bedroom, told Toto to hide, and she set her basket down.

“Auntie Em!” she called again just before her bedroom window broke off and knocked her in the back of her head. The impact knocked her out, the darkness consuming her as she fell.

-

When Y/N opened her eyes, she had no idea of how much time had passed. Toto was licking her face as to wake her up, and Y/N pet his furry head. However, the house was…moving? The wind was blowing, but it wasn’t violent. It was more like a windy day right before it rains. Wind howled much louder until a rooster’s crow broke the silence.

Looking out the window, Y/N couldn’t see anything but a dark gray wall. However, she spotted what she guessed was the roof of the farm’s chicken coop with the rooster standing on top of it. A cow floated around in the air, mooing without a care in the world. A wooden rocking chair floated up, and Old Mrs. Ahn was sitting in it and knitting a quilt. She looked up and waved hello. Confused, Y/N waved back before the old woman floated away again. Two fishermen in a rowboat were next to be in Y/N’s line of sight. They made eye contact with her, tipped their hats, and she waved.

Out of curiosity, Y/N looked down and nearly lost her balance.

“We must be up inside the cyclone!” she shouted over the wind so Toto could hear her.

When she looked back, she saw a familiar face riding her bicycle in the tornado.

“Oh!” Y/N cried out in disgust. “Mrs. Gulch!”

Then, without warning, the grouchy neighbor morphed into something horrible. She now had an ugly, green face, and was dressed in all black with a pointed hat. A large broom was now her choice of transportation. It was a witch. Frightened by the sight, Y/N retreated back to her bed and covered her eyes as the witch released an ear-piercing cackle.

The wind began to pick up. Toto jumped into Y/N’s arms and started to whimper. The house spun more times than Y/N could count. She screamed out of fright and sobbed as she didn’t know what was happening. Was she about to go out like this? She began to regret everything she had done earlier that day from the time she allowed her dog to run around in the neighbor’s garden to running away.

Then, everything stopped. The house seemed to land, and everything went silent. Her room was a mess, but that could be taken care of later. All Y/N cared about was if her family was okay. Some thick trees blocked her outdoor view, so she couldn’t see what was going on outside. She figured the house landed in the nearby woods.

“Are you okay Toto?” Y/N asked her dog. He licked her chin as if to reassure her that he was fine. She then picked him up, gathered her still intact basket, and exited her room.

The house was dark, but Y/N could make out the outlines of the furniture with the help of some light peaking through the curtains. Everything was either broken or knocked over, and a few family pictures were smashed. The important thing was that Y/N was alive, and so was Toto.

Holding Toto close to her, Y/N carefully opened her front door and almost fainted. On the other side of her front door was not her farm, but rather a new world on display in front of her eyes. Colorful plants and flowers surrounded a small duck pond and a stream leading away from it and under a bridge. Next to it was a spiral imprinted in the ground made from yellow and red bricks. In the surrounding area, small, white cylindrical houses with straw and burlap roofs populated around the pound and brick paths, but there seemed to be no one in sight. The sky above was the most gorgeous shade of blue Y/N had ever seen. It was as if she had jumped into a storybook.

“Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore,” Y/N said to her dog as she wandered around. “We must be over the rainbow.”

After setting Toto down, Y/N glanced up at the sky and noticed a spherical object floating towards her. Was it a bubble? It looked like one, but it wasn’t your average bubble. As it got closer, Y/N noticed it was changing colors and getting bigger. Stepping out of the way, the bubble, now the size of a horse, turned a bright shade of pink as it landed on the brick path.

The bubble dissolved away, revealing a beautiful woman with velvet red, shoulder-length hair and an extravagant silver crown resting on top of it. She was dressed in a sparkling periwinkle dress with glittering butterflies decorating various spots. The skirt part of her gown was almost as wide as a dinner table towards the bottom, and her sleeves were puffed as large as egg crates. In her hand, she carried a long wand with a diamond star at the top.

“Now, I definitely know we’re not in Kansas.” Y/N was speechless. It was the first sign of human life, and all she witnessed was a woman with a wand fly in inside a bubble.

The woman makes eye contact with Y/N and approaches her, her skirt flowing behind her.

“Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?” she asked.

Y/N was taken aback by her question.

“Me?” she asked, and the woman nodded. “I’m not a witch at all. My name is Y/N, and I’m from Kansas.”

“Oh,” the woman replied, and then motioned towards Toto. “Well, is that the witch?”

Y/N just giggled. “Toto’s my dog.”

“Well, I’m a little muddled. I was informed by the munchkins that a new witch has just dropped a house on the Wicked Witch of the East.” She turned towards the slightly damaged house. “There’s the house, and here you are,” –she pointed towards a pair of dark burgundy legs with opalescent shoes on the feet sticking out from underneath the house- “and that’s all that’s left of the Wicked Witch of the East.”

Y/N was in shock. She had accidentally killed someone. She felt bad, but from the tone of the woman’s voice it sounded like it was a good thing.

“And so,” she continued, “what the munchkins what to know is, are you a good witch or a bad witch?”

“But I’ve already told you I’m not a witch at all,” Y/N reassured. “Witches are old and ugly.” A plethora of giggles sounded from behind her. “What was that?”

The woman chuckled. “The munchkins. They are laughing because I am a witch. I am Chungha, Witch of the North.”

Y/N eyes nearly popped out of her head. “You are? My apologies if I’ve offended you, but I’ve never heard of a beautiful witch before.”

“Only bad witches are ugly. The munchkins are happy because you have freed them form the Wicked Witch of the East.”

“Well, if you don’t me asking, what are munchkins?” The laughter sounded again.

“They’re the little people who live here in Muchkinland, and you are their national heroine, my dear. It’s alright, now.” Her attention was on someone else. “You can all come out and thank her. Come out, come out! Wherever you are, and meet the young lady who fell from a star.”

From everywhere in the greenery and behind the small houses, small people no taller than about three feet high began to come into the light of the circle. Their clothing was just as bright as the flowers. The men wore colors of blues, greens, and reds, while the woman wore lighter shades of greens and blues with purples and pinks. Most of them wore hats, their curls sticking out from underneath, and a few of the women’s’ bonnets were decorated with various kinds of flowers such as roses, marigolds, and daisies.

“She fell from the from the sky,” Chungha sang, “she fell very far, and Kansas she says is the name of the star.”

“Kansas she says is the name of the star,” the munchkins repeated as more of them began to appear and surround the new faces in town.

“She brings you good news, or haven’t you heard? When she fell out of Kansas a miracle occurred.”

Y/N was lead to the center of the town, and she began her story. “It really was no miracle. What happened was just this: this wind began to switch, the house to pitch, and suddenly the hinges started to unhitch. Just then the witch, to satisfy and itch, went flying on her broomstick, thumbing for a hitch.”

“And oh, what happened then was rich,” a man in a tall gray hat hopped out.

A few of the woman munchkins joined in on finishing the story. “The house began to pitch, the kitchen took a slitch. It landed on the Wicked Witch in the middle of a ditch, which was not a healthy situation for the Wicked Witch, who began to twitch and was reduced to just a stitch of what was once the Wicked Witch.”

The citizens of Munchkinland performed a small celebratory dance in their freedom from the witch’s clutches, and a horse drawn carriage pulled up. Y/N was guided into it before two citizens approached her with some candy a bouquet of yellow and blue roses.

“We thank you very sweetly,” the first one said with a smile, “for doing it so neatly.”

“You’ve killed her so completely,” the second one said, “thank we thank you very sweetly.”

“Let the joyous news be spread,” Chungha declared, “the Wicked old Witch at last is dead!”

As the carriage began to move, the munchkins cheered wildly and chanted their victory:

“Ding dong, the Witch is dead

Which old Witch? The Wicked Witch!

Ding dong, the Wicked Witch is dead

Wake up, you sleepyhead

Rub your eyes, get out of bed

Wake up, the Wicked Witch is dead

She’s gone where the goblins go

Below, below, below

Yo ho! Let’s open up and sing

And ring the bells out

Ding dong, the merry-o

Sing it high

Sing it low

Let them know the Wicked Witch is dead.”

The carriage stopped in front of a larger homestead, where three trumpeters came out and blew a fanfare as a large-bellied munchkin in a bright blue suit approached Y/N with seven council like people followed behind him.

“As mayor of the munchkin city,” he announced, “in the county of the land of Oz, I welcome you most regally.”

“But we’ve got to verify it regally,” and officially stepped in. “To see…”

“To see.”

“If she…”

“If she…”

“Is morally, ethically, spiritually, physically, positively, absolutely, undeniably and reliably dead.”

Y/N wasn’t sure what was happening at first, but she realized that the council wanted proof that the witch was, in fact, dead. She hadn’t heard anyone scream in fear or seen a dead corpse try to squeeze itself out from under her house, so they must be in the clear.

A munchkin in dark purple robes and holding a scroll approached the council and gave his two cents. “As coroner, I must aver, I thoroughly examined her, and she’s not only merely dead, she’s really most sincerely dead.” He then unraveled the scroll, revealing a certificate of death.

“Then this is a day of independence,” the mayor stated happily, “for all the munchkins and their decendents. Let the joyous news be spread, the Wicked old Witch at last is dead!”

With another wild cheer, the citizens sang their chant in celebration. Y/N was then given thanks from three girls in pink tutus and three boys in colorful suits, both presenting her with candy and a song. Chungha then guided Y/N back to the square where the rest of the people continued their welcome.

Everything then came to halt, when a cloud of bright red smoke exploded from out of nowhere. Munchkins screamed in fright and began to either hide or drop down in fear, and Toto began to bark at who or whatever was unwelcome. Y/N was quick to pick up her dog, but he still growled in protecting her. As the smoke dissolved, the witch Y/N had seen earlier was revealed to be the uninvited guest to the party. Upon seeing her in person, she was more horrid in face as she wore all black clothing and held a broomstick.

“I-I thought you said s-she was dead,” Y/N whispered to Chungha, confused.

“That was her sister, the Wicked Witch of the East,” the Good Witch explained. “This is the Wicked Witch of the West, and she’s worse than the other one was.”

The ugly hag examined the two legs sticking out from underneath the house, and a look of pure wrath shadowed her green face.

“Who killed my sister?” she growled, her voice an unsatisfying pitch. “Who killed the Witch of the East? Was it you?”

“No,” Y/N answered immediately as the witch approached her. “No, I didn’t mean to kill anyone. I promise it was an accident.”

“Well, my little pretty, I can cause accidents, too!”

“Aren’t you forgetting the Opal Slippers?” Chungha asked, unfazed by the witch’s anger.

“The slippers. Yes!” An unsettling smile had appeared on her face as she began to go back to her dead sister’s feet. However, the shoes in question disappeared, and the legs and feet curled up and snaked underneath the house.

“They’re gone!” the witch cried before returning the pair. “The Opal Slippers. What have you done with them? Give them back to me or I’ll-“

“It’s too late,” Chunga stopped her. “There they are, and there they’ll stay.”

Y/N looked down to where the Good Witch was pointing to and realized the slippers were now on her feet, matching beautifully with her pink socks. When did they slip onto her feet? Not that she was complaining about having beautiful shoes on her feet instead of the plain red converse she wore, but the slippers didn’t belong to her.

“Give me back my slippers,” the Wicked Witch demanded. “I’m the only one that knows how to use them. They’re no use to you. Give them back to me. Give them back!”

“Keep a hold of them,” Chungha whispered to Y/N. “Their magic must be very powerful, or she wouldn’t want them so badly.”

“You stay out of this, Chungha, or I’ll break you, as well!”

Chungha just laughed and told her, “Rubbish! You have no power here. Be gone, before somebody drops a house on you, too.”

The witch glanced up at the sky before announcing her departure. “Very well. I’ll bide my time.” Her attention went back to Y/N. “And as for you, young lady, it’s true, I can’t attend to you here and now as I’d like, but just stay out of my way. I’ll get you, my pretty, and you’re little dog, too!” With a cackle, she dashed into the square and disappeared in a thunderous cloud of red smoke followed by a small explosion of fire.

“It’s all right,” Chungha reassured the munchkins. “She’s gone.”

“What just happened?” Y/N asked.

“I’m afraid you’ve made rather a bad enemy of the Wicked Witch of the West. The sooner you get out of Oz altogether, the safer you’ll sleep, my dear.”

“I’d give anything to get out of Oz,” Y/N sighed. “But which way is Kansas? I can’t go the way I came.”

As beautiful as the land was, Y/N just wanted to be back home with her family and friends and bring Toto back with her. She didn’t know if her Aunt was still alive, or even if everyone else was looking for her. It didn’t help that a wicked witch had basically threatened her life over a pair of magical shoes.

“No, that’s true,” Chungha agreed. “The only person who might know would be the great and wonderful Wizard of OZ himself.”

The munchkins immediately bowed at the mention of the man’s name.

“The Wizard of Oz? Is he good, or is he wicked?”

“Very good, but very mysterious. He lives in the Sapphire City, and that’s a long journey from here. Did you bring your broomstick with you?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Then, you’ll have to walk, I’m afraid.”

Thanks, Captain Obvious, Y/N thought.

“The munchkins will see you safely to the border of Munchkinland,” Chungha reassured her. “And remember, never let those slippers off your feet for a moment, or you will be at the mercy of the Wicked Witch of the West.”

“But how do I start for the Sapphire City?” Y/N asked.

“It’s always best to start at the beginning, and all you do is follow the yellow brick road.”

-

Tagging: @barsformars​ @barnesbabee​ @daybreakx​ @juyeonzz​ @cosmixity​ @philosopher-of-fandoms​

[karmaholmes221]

Vicomte de Phantom II

Pier 69

Paris, 1895- A mysterious fire consumed the Opera Populaire. A mob rampaged through the theatre's twisted catacombs baying for the masked man they held responsible. Only his mask was ever found...

I flicked a strand of wet hair out of my face and began messing with the sleeves of my dress. It was busy down at the piers for this time during the day as relatives stood and waited for the disembarking passengers to make their way through the custom house. I stumbled slightly as I was jarred by a young man, who rushed past me to join a rather large crowd just outside the gates. Unable to extinguish my curiosity, I moved closer to see what all the commotion was about, slipping into the crowd of reporters, photographers, well-wishers, and gawkers without notice.  The man, who was clearly a latecomer, turned to the man beside him.

“Has the Persephone docked yet?” he panted.

The man nodded. ”Yeah, the passengers are going through customs now.”

”Here they come!” A young woman whispered loudly to the two men as the first of the passengers made their way through the gate.

”It’s Mrs Astor!” one of the reporters called as a portly lady wearing an enormous plumed hat stepped through the gates, being escorted by a dapper gentleman.

”Hey, Mrs Astor! Over here!” the photographer called. Mrs Astor turned and several flashbulbs went off.

”How was your trip?” one reporter asked.

”Is that the latest Paris style?” another called.

Mrs. Astor  just smiled and blew them a kiss before turning away and allowing herself to be escorted to her waiting carriage.

”Look, there’s Colonel Vanderbilt!” A young man near the front of the crowd called.

”Hey, Colonel, enjoyed those French pastries, did you?” the reporter asked.

Vanderbilt smiled broadly. “There’s nothing there we don’t have bigger and better over here, I assure you.”

”Thanks Colonel!” the photographer said loudly, trying to be heard over the chattering crowd. The Colonel smiled indulgently, patting his ample waistline lightly as the photographers flashbulbs went off before moving off to hail a carriage.

”Hey, there she is!” Someone yelled and all heads turn to the gates, I glanced over, only slightly curious as to the reason to who this mystery person was that they were all standing here waiting for and felt my breath catch in my throat at what I saw.

There, framed in the gateway, clutching the hand of a young boy, stood Christine Daae’. She was nearly obscured by veils and a cloche hat but she was gorgeous, iconic, every inch a star. There was a moment of awed silence as I tried to reign in my pounding heart and push the dread that was seeping through me away. ‘Why, after all these years, why did she have to show her face here, in this town? If Erik finds out she’s here…’  I refused to complete the thought, I didn’t want to think about how far Erik would go to regain his hold on the former prima donna. I pushed the thoughts away as the crowd burst into pandemonium  as flashbulbs exploded and the reporters and photographers began shouting, all vying for Christine’s attention.

Christine remained silent, pulling the boy at her side closer to her and wrapping a protective arm around his shoulders as a familiar voice rose above the shouts of the crowd. “Her name is Madame de Chagny! Stand aside! Stand aside, please!” As Raoul appeared through the gate,  I couldn’t stop myself I gasped. The woman just ahead of me glanced back but I could hardly find it in me to care. It was Raoul, older and slightly more weathered looking than I remembered, but still the same man that I had been married to all those years ago, still dapper and handsome and, in this moment, brusque irate. “No pictures, do you hear? No pictures of my wife, no pictures of the boy!”

”Hey Christine, why Coney Island?” one reporter called.

”Your first concert in years, why ain’t you singing at the Met?”  A reporter in front of me, a young man with ink stains on his shirt, called out and Raoul looked towards him, a dignified look on his face.

“The Vicomtesse has been engaged by the well-known impresario –”

”Well-known?!”

No one’s ever seen the guy” the same reporter cut him off,  before launching another into another question. ”How’d he lure the great Christine Daaé over here, anyways?”

”It’s the money, right? All that American moolah!” The photographer said mockingly.

”Hey Christine, whatcha gonna sing, “Yankee Doodle Moolah”?”A man in the crowd called and the people around him sniggered.

Raoul turned towards where the man’s voice had come from. “My wife is an artist, sir - - !” Raoul began heatedly.

”Yeah, and her art is paying off your gambling debts, is what they’re saying in France.” The photographer scoffed. I was hit with a moment of surprise at the news, I had heard of there financial burden because of some poor investments but I hadn’t realized how badly off they must be if Christine was coming out of retirement to pay their debts off.

”Is it true you left your entire fortune on a roulette table in Monte Carlo?” the reporter asked and Raoul’s eyes blazed angrily. “Why, you insolent jackal! How dare you -” Raoul said taking several steps toward the reporter.

“Father-” The boy began in a quiet voice that was unlike either of his parents.

“Not now, Gustave!” Raoul snapped as reporters turned their questions on the boy.

”Hey kid, how does it feel to have a famous mother?”

”This is your first time in America?”

”What do you plan to do here at Coney?”

The child glanced around shyly, clearly not sure how to handle the attention. ”I… want to learn how to swim.” He said quietly. There were hoots and laughs from the crowd and I couldn’t help but feel a small amount of sympathy for the boy shrinking back against his mother.

”I said, leave the child alone!” Raoul snapped,  glancing around anxiously. “For God’s sake, didn’t this Mr Y send someone to receive us?”

I felt another stab of shock at the sound of Erik’s new name here. It was the name he had been using in the public eye at least, to me he was still Erik. The shock gave way to anger as I realized that he had been in contact with Christine and Raoul, however vaguely, while I had been forced to sever all ties with everyone in Paris because of his actions. I was brought out of my thoughts as the boy suddenly became very animated, he stepped forward and pointed at something across courtyard. “Mother, look..?Right over there… Across the square.. What is it?”

Everyone turned and I wasn’t surprised to see the sight of Erik’s carriage, fancifully designed with horses that were entirely mechanical and a driver whose face was completely obscured. The crowd around me began to buzz as words of astonishment, wonder, and even fear  were thrown back and forth. “What on earth could it be?”

“I’ve never seen such a thing before in my life!”

“Damn strange, that’s what it is!”

“The most peculiar conveyance!”

Suddenly the door of the carriage opened and three familiar figures extricated themselves from the vehicle. I ground my teeth as the three figures bowed in unison to the crowd before turning to approach Christine and her family with their usual bizarre yet beautiful motions. “Are you ready to begin? Are you ready to get on? You’re about to start out on the journey of your lives.” Squelch said before reaching behind the child’s ear and pulling out a colored handkerchief.

” Is this some kind of joke?” Raoul demanded, his voice filled to the brim with bewildered outrage.

One of the onlookers closest to Raoul scoffed. “No, it’s a publicity stunt for that freak show on Coney!”

”It’s a front page feature, is what it is! You getting this, Smitty?” One of the reporters asked his photographer as he rushed to write in a small, leather book and I couldn’t help but smile at the idea of such good publicity for free.

There was yet another flash from the photographer’s camera.“You betcha!” he replied, taking yet another picture.

Gangle stepped forward. “If you’re ready, then get in. Once you’re in, then we’ll get gone. And who knows, once it goes, Where you’ll be when it arrives?” Gangle spoke and, in one fluid motion, he had removed Raoul’s top hat and suddenly made it vanish into thin air.

“This is outrageous!” Raoul snapped as the crowd began to murmur again, this time in approval.

“It’s amazing!”

”Brilliant!”

”I’m telling ya, that Mr Y is an absolute genius!”

Gangle and Squelch quickly moved to flank the family and walked them towards the carriage as the bird-like Fleck beckoned them forward. “It’s a fun house where the mirrors all reflect what’s real.” Fleck said mysteriously.

“And reality’s as twisted as the mirrors reveal.” Fleck and Gangle whispered.

Squelch added his voice to the mix. “And the fun is finding out what the mirrors show…” By now the whole group had reached the carriage and Christine was helped into it as Raoul continued to protest.

“This is unacceptable, do you hear me? I will be taking this up with your employer! Whoever he is!” Raoul snapped as he was finally coaxed into the carriage, leaving only the boy, Gustave,  outside it.

Gustave gazed at the carriage and then at the crowd, his face and voice excited as he spoke.”Everything and everyone, it’s all just how I dreamed…All the freaks, and all the fun, exactly how I dreamed…And Phantasma still awaits…Wonder what’s behind its gates…” The boy climbed into the carriage and it silently rolled off as the onlookers watched, speechless. As the carriage disappeared from view I quickly turned on my heel and began to push my way through the crowd, catching snatches of conversation. ”That was something’, wasn’t it?” A boy who couldn’t be older than sixteen told the woman who was hanging on his arm.

”I was hoping she’d sing. Caruso sang half of Pagliacco for us when he got off the boat.” A woman complained to her friend.

“I bet she ain’t got it no more, not like the old days. Sure, she’s pitch perfect… But empty inside, like the flame went out or something’.” One of the reporters said simply, digging in his coat for a match.

I slipped passed a woman who looked to be my age as she suddenly began pointing to the arrival gates, calling out to the crowd. ”Look! It’s the Rockefellers!”

I finally made it through the last few people and slipped down the busy street, a plan forming in my head. I veered off the main street and into a dismal back alley. I would take a  shortcut back to Coney Island and Phantasma, and I would find out exactly what was going on.

[cosmicbug379]

Ever Northward Gaze

Guys I made myself really sad with this one. Like so sad I cried writing it at 11 last night. It’s not my normal thing, but here we are. Also the title is actually from the book of Lord of the Rings! In the book, when Boromir dies, Aragorn and Legolas sing the Lament for Boromir and it’s really sad and I’ve been listening to the version on Youtube that Karliene did (she’s one of my favorite artists honeslty and she has some really good LotR and Game of Thrones stuff so definitely check her out, she’s amazing!) and I was being sad about it so here we are. It does not have a happy ending so be warned. Also, i picked some pieces from the book, and some from the movies and I combed through the timeline of the fellowship and looked up a lot of distances and stuff so the timeline and days is as accurate as I could make it and it’s literally only mentioned like 3 times so that’s fun. I also only tagged a couple people cuz I really honestly don’t know who even wants to read this. Okay sorry for the world’s longest Author’s Note.

Fandom: Lord of the Rings

Pairing: Boromir x reader

Words: 1496

Warnings: Major character death 

It had been months since you had last received a letter from Boromir, and you hated it. You understood why-the need for secrecy had been clear-but you still didn’t like it. The last letter he had sent was from Rivendell, he said he was joining a quest, a fellowship that was setting out to bring the One Ring to Mordor. You knew he left because Lord Elrond had sent word that it had been found, there had been a council called to Rivendell to discuss what to do with it. His father wanted him to bring it back to Gondor, so they could attempt to use it against Sauron, but the Ring was evil, it couldn’t be used against it’s master.

You missed Boromir terribly. He was supposed to come right back, instead it had been 241 days since he had left for Rivendell and 132 days since his last letter had arrived. He was only supposed to be gone a little over 100 days, and now it had been more than twice that since you had last seen your husband.

You had spent most of your time since Boromir’s departure in the Houses of Healing. Ioreth had taught you from a young age, and you quickly discovered you enjoyed it and you were good at it. Faramir always said you were the perfect balance to his brother. He was always the soldier, ready to fight; you always wanted to help people, heal them. 

When you weren’t in the Houses of Healing, you were in the rooms you usually shared with Boromir. You enjoyed painting, and you had a balcony that overlooked Pelennor Fields and you could just see Osgiliath in the distance. You also enjoyed singing, and Boromir insisted you had the voice of an angel, even when you told him he was wrong. You were writing a song for when he finally returned to you, but you were stuck. You had been on edge for over a week now, you weren’t sure why, but you had a bad feeling about something. Your sleep had been restless and your dreams troubled when you had them.

7 nights ago you had dreamt that you saw Boromir’s body in a small boat passing down the river Anduin. You were sobbing when you woke up, and stumbled your way to Faramir’s room. He said he had the same dream, and it made you even more uneasy. You were worried. A weight had come over you, you feared you would never see your husband again.

You sat in your room now, reading over his last letter again. The ink had started to fade and the edges were worn. You read his letters often, trying to remind yourself of him, but this was your favorite.

My darling wife,

It has been too long since I last saw you, and I fear it will be even longer still. I regret to tell you this will be my last letter for some time. I have volunteered to accompany a brave young hobbit in his quest to bring Isildur’s Bane to Mordor. I hope our path will bring us close to home and I will be able to see you, but I am not so sure. 

We are walking, it is best that way, horses will draw too much attention. It will be a long time before we pass into Gondor or anywhere close to the White City, but I will count the days until I can see you again. 

I miss you more than I can put into words, my love. I miss sleeping beside you and waking up with you in my arms. I miss your smile and the way your eyes shine when you do. I miss the sound of you singing to me, and I miss the sound of your laugh. I even miss the way you scold me when I distract you from your work. I cannot wait to hold you again, to kiss you again. You know me better than anyone, and I think you may even know me better than Faramir does. I miss you.

I must stop now, before someone walks by and sees me becoming a blubbering mess over a letter to my wife. Watch over Faramir, father is too hard on him. Don’t let him take anything my father says to heart. 

All my love,

Boromir

You weren’t sure when you had started crying, but a few tears dropped onto the fading words. It was a few moments later when you jumped, hearing the sound of a horn. The horn that signified someone was approaching the Citadel. Was Faramir back so soon?

You raced to the courtyard and saw a messenger there. He was carrying something wrapped in a cloth and he had a grim look on his face. The uneasiness you had been feeling for days crept up inside you, stronger than ever. The messenger looked at you and showed you what was wrapped in the cloth. The Horn of Gondor. Cloven in two. Boromir had taken that with him when he left for Rivendell. That means…

“I’m sorry, my lady,” the messenger said quietly.

You heard a scream of anguish, the saddest thing you had ever heard. It took you a moment to realize the sound had come from you. You weren’t sure how long you stayed there sobbing, but it was long enough that your handmaiden became worried. She and Ioreth found you and took you to your rooms, but you barely even noticed they were there.

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

You knew Gandalf had arrived in the city with a hobbit that day, and you waited outside the throne room while they spoke to Denethor. You had worn nothing but black for 6 days, since news of Boromir’s fate had reached Minas Tirith. You knew you should put on a finer dress to greet your guests, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wear anything else. All your dresses were ones Boromir had bought for you.

You looked up as Gandalf exited, followed by the halfling. He stopped when he saw you and gave you a look of sympathy. 

“My lady… I wish we were meeting again in happier times,” he said quietly.

“As do I, Mithrandir,” you replied. Turning to the halfling you spoke again, “I know Gandalf, but we have not met, what is your name?”

“Pippin, my lady. You are Boromir’s wife aren’t you?” 

“Yes, Boromir was my husband… I understand you are a friend of his,” you said, waving away Gandalf’s attempt to scold the hobbit.

“I like to think so... He spoke of you often. He loved you, and he was right, you are indeed beautiful, my lady,” Pippin blushed a little and looked down. 

“Thank you,” you hesitated. You weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer to your next question, but you had to ask. “How did he die?” 

Pippin looked at Gandalf, as if asking permission. With a nod from Gandalf he turned from you again. 

“He died defending me and my kinsman, Merry. We were north of here at Amon Hen, near the statues of the old kings. There were many Uruk-Hai and he fought bravely to save us. He was pierced by 3 arrows before he fell.” he said.

Your slowly cracking facade of composure finally broke. You tried not to openly sob, but you couldn’t stop the tears leaving your eyes. That sounded like your Boromir. Fighting to defend those who could not defend themselves.

“Thank you, Pippin,” you whispered. “For telling me. I am glad he was at least able to save you and your friend. I hope I get to meet Merry some day.” 

“I hope we will see him again too, my lady,” he answered. 

“Gandalf? Watch over this one. He is brave and he has a good heart. Boromir would be proud of him,” you said with a sad smile.

Gandalf squeezed your shoulder gently before leading Pippin away. You watched them go, trying to keep your tears at bay. Yes, you could see why Boromir loved this little hobbit. Even from the short conversation, you could see it. 

You wandered to your rooms again, telling your handmaiden not to disturb you unless absolutely necessary; you wanted to be alone. You went through your wardrobe, looking for one of the shirts Boromir had left behind. When you found one, you held it close to your face. You could still smell him on it, you didn’t want to think about when you would no longer be able to. 

You collapsed onto your bed, sobbing into the shirt, clutching it tightly to your chest. 

Boromir was gone, and he wouldn’t be able to come back to you now. You wouldn’t kiss him again, or hold him or fall asleep next to him. You wouldn’t have children that you would raise to be healers and warriors. You would be alone now for the rest of your days, with nothing but his memory.

Tags: @rzrcrst​ @longitud-de-onda​

[lauwrite1225]

Broken Crown || Finan x OC || Chapter 6

Summary :  Since the day he has been enslaved, Finan never thought that he would have to face his origins. But when an old friend made his arrival to Wessex, the Irishman his forced to deal with his past.

Other chapters

English isn’t my first language, if you see any mistakes, tell me :)

Warning : None

06 || COCCHAM

The rode to Coccham was calm and Ailis thanked God for that. Just like Uhtred told her, it took them a day and half to arrive. They had stopped just before dawn to prepare a camp for the night. The four men were of good company around the fire. They spend most of the evening telling old stories about each of their beliefs. Ailis quickly understood that the purpose of this was to scare the one nicknamed “Baby Monk”. He had maintained that he wasn’t afraid, but the Irishwoman noticed him blench few times when noises were to be heard further in the wood.

Midday had passed when Ailis perceived the wooden walls of Coccham. Indeed, it wasn’t as big as Winchester, but it seemed pleasant. When they arrived, a small amount of people gathered near the gates, greeting the warriors’ return. The group dismounted their horses and walked to the stables. As she was unsealing her mare, Ailis’ attention was caught by Finan.

He was talking to a woman with a long ginger hair, a little lighter than Ailis’ one. She had a big smile as she spoke to the Irishman. Near them, there was a little boy, no more than ten, with a thick brown hair. Finan ruffled it, laughing at something the woman said.

“She’s not his wife.” She jumped when she heard the voice of Uhtred behind her. She turned to him, noting the amused smirk of the Lord. “And he’s not his son.”

“I was not…” She tried to protest, but she cut herself. It would be a lie to say that she didn’t think them to be his family. She shook her head and posed the saddle on a fence. “Does he have a wife?” She asked to Uhtred.

“No. There were some women, but he never married one.” Ailis frowned. During all this time, she expected him to have at least married someone. But as she dedicated her life to her duty to the King, Finan seemed to have dedicated his to be a warrior. “Come, I’ll show you where you’ll sleep.” He waved to her and she took her bag.

As she walked alongside Uhtred, she took the time to observe the village. The houses were all of reasonable sizes, just enough to shelter a family. But there was a building that was way bigger than the others. And it seemed, it was where they were going. Uhtred pushed one of the doors and Ailis discovered a giant room. A large table was in the middle of it, messy chairs around. On each side, weapons of all sorts were hung on the walls and a wooden stair was leading to a floor where she could perceive a bed. It was far from being Winchester’s palace or the castle of Navan Fort. It was simpler, but it felt warmer than the cold stones. The Lord of Coccham led her to a door that revealed a room. Ailis let her bag drop on the bed and sat on it.

“I hope it’ll be fine for the night.” Said Uhtred, leaning on the door frame. She let a hand brushed the fur, appreciating the softness of it and looked up to him.

“It’s more than I could have asked for.” He nodded with a smile and straightened. He crossed his arms and took a more serious expression.

“So, talk to me about those Danes.” Ailis moistened her lips, mentally bringing together all she knew.

“Thorvard was the man at the head of the settlement and it appears that it’s also him who leads the attacks in Ulaid.” She had never met him, only crossed his gaze during battle. He was tall with the shoulders of a bull. She never had fought him, but she had seen him, slaying her best warriors with his axe. His weapon was bigger than a usual one, however he wielded it as it was a feather.

“Sigtryggr isn’t there?” Queried Uhtred, narrowing his eyes.

“No, he isn’t. He never came to Ulaid. Even if he’s pledged to Sigtryggr, Thorvard’s revenge only serves him.” Uhtred lightly nodded.

“How could you describe him?”

“He’s an impressive man, he loves fighting. But spies speak of him as an intelligent man as much as he is a good fighter.” If he was the devil incarnation during battles, she learnt that the man had some kind of sense. He didn’t like the unnecessary losses. His revenge had been thought and prepared.

“Then it’s a good thing that he thinks.” Declared Uhtred, starting to leave the bedroom. Ailis stood up and follow him in the hall. “He’ll probably be more open to negotiations. And your King, do you think he’ll be pleased with Edward’s offer?”

“He won’t.” Ailis huffed. “But it’s our only solution.”

Uhtred pointed one of the chairs, inviting Ailis to take a seat. Then, he poured two cups of ale and sat in front of her. She took a moment to scrutinize the well-known Dane Slayer. He was an attractive man with deep blue eyes. A huge scar was running down his side face, making a crescent moon. By only catching his gaze, she could feel the strong warrior he was. She could easily understand why Finan followed him. He inspired confidence.

They continued their discussion, Ailis describing Conall to the Lord. She portrayed her King as an ambitious man, but also stubborn. She explained to him how they attacked the settlement in the South of Ulaid. How they attacked the Danes just before sunrise, while most of them were still asleep. It hadn’t been a battle made in the rules of the art, but when it came to fight the Danes, there was no rules.

When dawn started to fall, all of Uhtred’s warrior joined them to the great hall. There was also others that Ailis hadn’t met yet, but she quickly understood that they were occupying important positions in the city. For an hour they just talked about what happened during the Lord’s absence. Then, the discussion came to what will happen next.

“We’ll leave Coccham in two days.” Ailis turned to Uhtred who chewed a piece of bread before speaking again. “We will cross Mercia, to the North to join the Irish Sea.”

“Do you have a boat to cross the sea?” She asked. To cross the sea, Ailis paid a merchant to make the trip on his boat. It wasn’t a big ship, but it was robust enough to overcome the waves.

“I’ll ask the Lady of Mercia to provide us one.” He explained, his voice lighter as he mentioned the Lady Aethelflead, if Ailis remembered well her name.

“Will she accept?”

“She will.” Answered Finan to Ailis, sharing a smirk with Sihtric and Osferth. Uhtred glared at the three warriors, seeming less amused than them. The redhead wonder what was the meaning of these looks. But she finally ignored them, speaking again to gain the men attention.

“If you are sure of it, then it’s perfect. It should be the end of spring when we’ll reach the coast, with luck the wind will be at our advantage.”

“And if it isn’t?” Osferth suddenly asked, his eyebrows rose and his spoon half way between his plate and mouth.

“Then the crossing will be less pleasant.” She chuckled.

“You’ve never seen a wind rougher than the Irish one, Baby Monk.” Added Finan, pointing the younger warrior with his finger.

“During winter, when it spins in the loopholes, you’d swear hearing ghosts.” She said, her smile not leaving her face as she remembered the windy nights, she had spent with the brothers exploring the castle looking for old spirits haunting the corridors.

“Or maybe it really was ghosts. Who knows ?” Dared Finan, meeting her eyes. If she didn’t have to lie for him, she would tell everyone that he was the first to freak out when the doors would slam or when a mouse would pass near his feet in the castle’s crypt.

The rest of the meal was filled with laugher and ale. Progressively, people left the table and each one joined his house to pass the night.

 …

 The following morning, Ailis let her curiosity lead her into Coccham streets. It was almost noon when she walked out of the great hall. She didn’t expect to sleep so much but didn’t regret it. Her journey to Wessex had been grueling and the return would be just as much. At least, she won’t be alone.

Her steps led her to a clay court, where the kid she saw the eve and another, older, were training to fight under the watchful eyes of Finan and Sihtric. On a bench, the woman whom Finan was speaking to was watching as well. She encouraged the young boy when he succeeded touch the other on the leg. Amused, Ailis walked to her.

“Your son will be a good warrior, one day.” She told her before sitting on the wooden bench. The woman seemed surprised to see her, or maybe it was what she said because a light laugh escaped her lips.

“Aethelstan isn’t my son.” Ailis rose an eyebrow. “He’s the first-born son of King Edward.” She explained to her, looking back to the boys.

“A bastard?”

“Kind of.” She answered, leaning her head to the side.

“Your Lord really has a thing with bastards.” She laughed at her remarked. “We haven’t been introduced, what’s your name?”

“Eadith.” She smiled. She found her really pretty with her graceful features and green eyes.

“Ailis.”

“Oh, I know. The men spoke to me of you.” Ailis frowned, wondering what could have said the warriors about her. “You are an old friend of Finan, right?” She nodded.

“We knew each other when he was still in Ireland.” She explained, turning her gaze to the boys.

“Of what I know, it must be a long time you haven’t seen him them, then.”

“It was.” Ailis lightly chuckled.

“Ailis ! You want to fight with us?” Shouted Finan defiantly, catching the two women attention. Aethelstan and the other boy stopped their training to look at her.

“Why not?” She smirked, standing up. She stretched her arms as she walked into the clay court. “You’ll fight with me Finan?”

“With pleasure. Give her your sword, Sigurd.” Ailis turn to the older boy who handed her his wooden weapon. She stared at him, finding some similar features with Sihtric.

Finan took Aethelstan’s sword and spun it into his hand. The woman did the same, judging the weight of the weapon. It was lighter than her usual training sword, who was made of steel but blunt.

Then, she looked up to Finan. He was smiling ear to ear, already in position to attack. She fought a lot with him when they were young and he usually was the one to win. He always had been a good fighter, always coming back in one piece from the few battles he had to take part of in Ireland. But it was during competitions that Finan won his nickname: The Agile. Her friend never had been a good dancer, but when he was in a fight, she could swear he was dancing. It was all a game for him, a game that he always won.

“Ready?” She challenged him, slightly bending her knees to have more balanced.

He nodded and without waiting more, he ran toward her, his sword splitting the air. Ailis parried in a swift move before rotate and try to hit him in the flank. But Finan was quick too and jumped back. After this first attack, they took a moment to judge each other. Ailis noted that Finan’s blows were strong, if she didn’t keep a good grip on her pommel, she’ll lose her sword.

As Finan went on the offensive again, she waited the last minute to avoid the blade by leaning back. She needed to find an opening in his attack to unbalanced him. Finan’s strokes were precise despite their strength. His way to fight was fiercer than before, but it was what was required during battles. And Finan had fought many battles.

After a few minutes of dodges, dust had arisen by dragging her feet on the clay. But finally, she found the weakness she was searching. When Finan was raising his sword to try a strike on her shoulder, his right flank was overdrawn. So, she waited his next similar move. She parried and avoided until it came.

Her eyes lightened when Finan rose his sword to the right. As the weapon came down to her shoulder, she bent her knees and changed her sword of hand behind her back. The sound of the wood whistling in the air just above her head indicate her the right moment to strike. In a quickmove, she hit Finan in the ribs. Not expecting it, he stumbled a little, but Ailis didn’t let him time to regain balanced. She caught his wrist and lifted her leg to hit him in the abs with the shin.

Finan staggered even more desperately trying to find balance as she harassed him with her sword. He blocked her just before the wood could touch his thigh. She was taking the advantage. When he parried a hit meant to touch his shoulder, he found himself almost against her chest. He looked down to her. He narrowed his eyes while smirking, trying to understand what will be her next move. But her piercing blue eyes didn’t betray her and in a second, he fell onto the floor. Too focus on her expression, he didn’t notice her tripping him up and pushing him back with her forearm.

Lay on the ground, Finan rubbed his eyes to remove the dust in it. He opened them when he felt the wooden point against his throat and the laugher of Sihtric.

“Dead.” Smirked Ailis putting her foot on the Irishman’s arm who was still holding his sword without pressing. He let go of it, in surrender. He sighed and grabbed the hand she was holding him. She pulled him and he stood up.

“I got distracted.” He simpered.

“Of course.” She chuckled, hitting slightly his butt with her sword as she walked to Sihtric and Sigurd. She gave back the weapon to the boy who seemed still impressed by the fight he assisted.

“You are a really good fighter.” Commented Sihtric, patting the shoulder of the boy she supposed to be his son.

“Thank you Sihtric. Maybe next time you’ll be the one to bite the dust.” She teased him. Sigurd smiled, amused at the idea of his father beat by the warrior. Sihtric glanced at Finan, who shrugged his shoulder, laughing.

As she left the men to their training, she felt her heart warm. The complicity that was bounding Uhtred’s men made her feel like they were a family. Fighting wasn’t the only thing that kept them together and witnessed that was agreeable.

 …

 Finan was lying on wooden pier, appreciating the chill air of the night and the calm sound of the river. His legs swayed over the water as he felt the effect of alcohol dissipate. They laughed a lot during the dinner in the great hall, and drink a lot too. It probably wasn’t reasonable to stay up that late as they would leave tomorrow morning.

But Finan couldn’t find sleep. Tomorrow would be the first day of their journey to Ulaid and he was apprehensive. With his Lord’s protection, he knew he would be safe until they reach Navan Fort. It has been so long since he left, nobody would remember of the exiled Prince Finan of Ulaid. But when they’ll have to meet the King, his brother. He wouldn’t have forgotten about him, he could never.

His brother. The King. God knew how hard it was for him to believe that Conall was King. Maybe it could have been him. However, the idea didn’t please him.

He turned his head when he heard footstep on the planks. Soon, he recognized Ailis, sitting next to him. She was silent as she tightened the cloak on her shoulders. He smiled a little. He didn’t know if it was the fact that he missed her or the effects of ale, but he appreciated her presence even more than in their youth.  

He couldn’t know if she was feeling the same thing because the smile that was on her face during the meal wasn’t here anymore. She let out a long sighed before looking down to him.

“Finan ?” He rose an eyebrow and made a small noise with throat, meaning she had his attention. “When will you tell them?” She softly asked him.

He clenched his jaw and looked up to the stars. He knew he had to tell them, but he couldn’t find the courage to do it. Ironically, for a man who ran into battles against the Danes.

“Listen, Finan. I know you have been through a lot and that you never wanted to deal with the past again. But you don’t have other choices.” She put a hand on his inciting him to meet her gaze once more. And he did. This time, he saw the sincerity she had towards him. “I won’t tell them, I promise you. But you should tell them, before they learn it by another.”

She was right. Even if he asked Uhtred to not come into the castle, how could explain the reasons? To Uhtred, Finan was a war catch. Enslaved by the Danes after his Lord had lost a battle. Why would a bastard without importance could be scared to meet a King?

“I will.” He answered, almost whispering.

His response seemed to please Ailis, because she softly smiled to him and lightly squeezed his hand before standing up and leaving him.

A/N : Wouhou, first chapter without flashback ! I don’t think they’ll be other flashbacks in the next chapters, but never say never ahah. 

Also, as you can read, this is a slow burn lmao. I am trying my best to evolve their feelings without being too abrupt, and it’s clearly not an easy thing. 

Tagged : @geekandbooknerd​ @astral-finan​ @ucancallmechlo​ @queen-manning​ @naihqh​ @kelly-fasel​ @pokeasleepingsmaug​ and @queerbroceliande​

[chchanging]

We’re going back in time, a little bit, because I finally finished Possessed!Rossi. Here comes the pain train!

Mc: Rossi Mayhew, Demon Lady

There’s a minuscule span of time where Rossi can actually feel herself slipping away. Where she is still sentient enough to be aware that she is changing into...something.

Something terrible.

In that split second her heart seizes up in the same kind of blind panic that she’d felt when she’d come to in a coffin—beating against her rib cage as if it were trying to find an exit. And then...

And then silence. Serenity. For one blissful moment the world disappears and she is wrapped up in the feeling of all-consuming power. In that moment she knows that she can do anything. Everything she’d ever hoped for, even in passing, is at her fingertips. She need only reach out and take it, herself.

Her eyes open, and they are blazing.

Her lips peel back to bare her teeth and it takes the others a moment to realize that she is smiling. Rossi had smiled a thousand times before, at all of them—they knew the sight by heart. Now there is such emptiness behind it. Such underlying malice.

The familiar comfort is nowhere to be found.

“Friends...” She spreads her hands in front of her as if she means to embrace them. She can feel the blood racing through them. Her blood. “It’s over now. She is gone. You have absolutely...nothing...to fear.”

Her voice is layered with vibrations of power as she speaks, humming like electricity. It doesn’t even sound like her anymore. None of them move to approach her. She tilts her head, so slightly and suddenly it looks like the mechanical tic of a machine.

“And yet...you do fear...don’t you?”

She nears them, and it’s like she is gliding on air. Vampirism had added some grace to her movements—but this is different. She is nearly levitating, now. There is no bounce to her step, like usual. The cheerful carelessness to her every action is absent and it is like a stranger is operating her body.

“Why...?”

She reaches out to graze Jax’s face with the tips of her fingers and he flinches. She frowns.

There’s a jolt of sudden, burning hot rage that rips through her like the claws of a beast before it settles just as quickly.

How could he look at her that way? How could any of them?

Adrian’s mournful brown eyes search hers for any sign of the Rossi she once was. Kamilah shakes her head in sorrowful disbelief. Jax can’t meet her eyes. Can’t look at the woman he’d once called his own as she is now. Why didn’t they understand that she is better, now, than she had ever been. Not that weak, reckless human. Not that bumbling vampire who hadn’t the slightest idea of her true power.

She turns away from them.

Only Gaius meets her gaze steadily. Had she not been able to feel every singular heartbeat in this room, she might have even missed the terror coursing through him. Not like when she’d entered his mind before, not like in the woods of Demetrius’ island when she’d seen through to his very center. This is a different, more primal fear. This is what Rheya had left him with. Seeing that raw power in someone else—knowing what it could do—that terror had increased tenfold.

Her heart aches for him. She would show him...she could never be like Rheya.

“You...never have to be afraid again.” She repeats. She traces a finger along his cheek, and then cups the side of his face in her palm. His eyes flutter shut, lips trembling. With fear, yes—and, oh with terrible, terrible loss.

“Rossi...” he whispers, with the weight of three thousand years of grief. “It wasn’t meant to be like this.”

Her mouth twitches upward into another unfeeling smile. “No...it’s going to be so much better than we ever imagined.”

She turns from him, back to the seats filled with entranced humans and vampires. She feels their blood singing in their veins—calling out to her. Every single cell cries for her to bring them home. She stretches out her arms, ready to take it all in.

“Rossi, wait—!”

She feels Jax’s intentions before he ever even moves. By the time he’s taken his first step, she whirls on him and throws her hand out. He grunts with the impact of a blow she’d merely thought of and goes flying into the far wall.

“You will not interfere!” She hisses through her teeth. “If you refuse to understand, I will make you see! There’s so much I can accomplish, I just need a little more power.”

Kamilah rushes to Jax’s side, crouching beside him. He’s dazed, but not seriously injured. “Rossi, you need to stop this!” She begs more than demands.

“I need to fix this.” She growls in return, turning back to the crowd. Adrian is standing there, then—between her and her meal. She bares her teeth as he moves to strike her. She sidesteps his arm with ease and uses his momentum to send him sailing away. “You don’t get it! None of you get it!”

“That’s enough!”

She spins on Gaius once more, preparing for an attack that never comes. He stands, tall and unshaken, but doesn’t move to take her down. He knows it could never work, and that isn’t his plan.

“Rossi,” He speaks more softly this time, facing her down with the utmost calm, “that’s enough. Please.”

“Even you...” She speaks shakily, disbelief and rage barely contained. “I thought we understood each other. I could give you what you want.”

“What I want is you, the way you were before. Like that night on the boat. Do you remember?” She pauses, watching him as he takes a cautious step forward. Slowly, she nods. “You gave me something, that night. Something I don’t think I could repay if I tried for a thousand years. I could not ask more of you than that.”

“I would give it willingly if you just stood by me.” She replies, trying to get him to see. To understand. “You know more than anyone what I mean to do.”

“I do,” he agrees honestly. He takes another step, slowly closing the distance. “But you have to listen to me, Rossi, this will never go the way you want it to. You’re just in too much pain to see that.”

“I could bring her back...” She whimpers mournfully. “I could fix my mistake.”

“And in the process you will lose the very people you mean to protect!” He says, desperate. “You will pursue power until it is the only thing you see. Everyone and everything you care about will become secondary—and they will leave you because of it. You will have no one to blame but yourself.”

He sees her beginning to snarl, feels her anger burning hot like the sun. And decides to change his approach.

“I told you about my wife, yes?” Again, Rossi nods. “Ariadne. The most wonderful woman I’d ever met. I remember that there was nothing I could not tell her, for she understood me better than anyone. She was my perfect opposite, balancing me in every way. She suffered no fools and put me in my place when need be, but she never judged me for my mistakes or shortcomings. She was the kindest soul I knew.”

Another step.

“Do you know I used to think it was my fault...when she died?” He swallows hard, as if the words have formed a physical lump in his throat that he needs to pass before going on. “Some punishment from the gods, for my mistakes or for not cherishing her the way I should have. For thinking I deserved someone as perfect as she was. I used to pray every day for another chance with her. I would swear to be more deserving this time—to never take her for granted. Do you know that it was you that finally made me realize how foolish I’d been?”

“I don’t understand.” Rossi shakes her head, waiting.

“I was just a man back then. Just a human. I hadn’t lived for millennia, leaving sorrow and destruction in my wake wherever I went. But that night on the boat you showed me kindness I hadn’t received since Ariadne fell ill—after everything I’d done to you and your friends you still treated me with dignity and respect when by all means you should have probably killed me right then.” He is right in front of her now. From here he can feel the power like waves in the sea, almost physically beating against him in pulses. But he stands tall and holds her burning gaze. “It was then that I realized that it isn’t about things we’ve done. It isn’t about the kind of people we are. Bad things happen to everyone, and sometimes we just lose.”

He reaches out and pushes her loose braids from her face, fingertips gliding softly against her cheek.

“You’ve lost so much, Rossi, and I’m sorry for my part in it. But there isn’t anything to make right, because you haven’t done anything wrong. Lily made her choice—she chose to give her life so you could go on. She wanted that for you. And I do, too.” A single tear traces its way down his face. “I know I have no right to ask anything of you—but please...please come back. I can’t lose my only ally. My only friend. Not to Rheya. I will not let her take anything else.”

His hand falls from her face, remaining suspended in front of him. He holds it palm up, waiting for her to take it. Hoping beyond hope that she will take it.

If she doesn’t, let him be dust at her feet. He can’t live through another Rheya, he refuses to.

Rossi’s eyes search his face, like she expects to find trickery or cruelty there. Any sign of the man he once was, any reason to cast him aside and continue to feed. To bring Lily home. Her heart aches unbearably with the loss and she knows—she knows—that it would take so little to achieve it. She could have her best friend at her side once more, see her smile and hear her laugh. The thought of being cut off from that forever terrifies her more than anything had in her life. In that moment Rossi is not brave, she is not fearless. She is weak and pathetic and lost...

And she knows that the true Lily would never stand beside such a monster.

With a forlorn sob, her hand finds his, and all at once the power siphons out of her like a vacuum. She collapses with the force of it, falling against his broad chest, and lets him hold her as she weeps for the loss of her friend, her sister, her other half.

He eases them to the floor, cradling her in his arms as if she is something that might break. Her entire body wracks with sobs, but he looks up as Kamilah approaches slowly—almost as if worried the power will return at any moment.

She eyes him warily—his arms around her protectively—and he can see the question in her eyes. With a single nod, he sees the tension leave her shoulders.

“We need to leave.” She says stoically, glancing out at the quickly awakening crowd. The trance is wearing off, meaning whatever power held them is really gone. “Before anyone recognizes us. I can take her from here.”

Rossi, although not quite coherent at the moment, holds tightly to his sleeve. He glances down at her and shakes his head. “I have her for now, you needn’t worry.” He scoops her up before Kamilah has the chance to argue and strides past her. She purses her lips, but doesn’t press the issue further.

Jax is leaning on Adrian’s shoulder backstage. He glares evenly at Gaius, but says nothing. He isn’t in any shape to take her from him by force—not that he would treat her that way even if he had the strength.

Still, his skin crawls at the sight of her in his arms, of all people.

“Is she alright?” Adrian asks, to which Gaius nods.

“Exhausted, and mourning, but unharmed.” Kamilah appears behind them.

“It’s time,” She speaks solemnly. “You all go. I’ll backtrack to let Serafine know it’s over and to gather...Lily’s things.” Her eyes linger on Rossi for the slightest moment before she turns and strides away. Adrian nods towards Gaius before turning to lead the way out.

[fericita-s]

All is Found: Exodus (2/4)

Read All is Found: Genesis (1/4)  by @the-spastic-fantastic first! (It’s amazing! She’s amazing! You’ll love it! I do!)

This is a roleswap AU where Agnarr is stuck in the Enchanted Forest at the age of 20 following Runeard’s failed attack. Agnarr and Iduna are forced to marry by Yelana, who is looking to create a bond between the two nations.

Thanks @androidavenger for demanding a roleswap AU and to @the-spastic-fantastic for spending many a brainstorming session developing the idea and plotting it out with me. NO BOATS!

***

Agnarr stood in the kota, surrounded by Northuldra men he didn’t know.  Different from the ones he had seen in the preceding weeks. He winced as he realized the ones who had been closest to his father during the battle, the ones his father would have introduced him to during the week, were probably all dead by his hand. 

He tried not to flinch as they stripped him of his Arendellian coat, his boots, his sash. A welcome relief; all were bloodstained and muddy.  He’d been wearing them for days. The coat hadn’t even been his.

He wished the weight of his grief for the killing, the loss of life, and the heavy burden of truth that his father was a murderer could be so easily removed as well.  He had surrendered his sword already, thrown it down when his father demanded that he kill an unarmed woman. And when he cast it aside, he knew he was also throwing away any claim or desire for a throne either gained or held by the blood of the innocent.

Someone brought in a bowl with water and a cloth, and directed him to wash.  He scrubbed at the two weeks’ worth of dirt that had settled onto his skin and opened up a few scabs as he did.  When he finished, the water was a muddy red.

They gave him boots, a hat, and a coat made of reindeer hide. He supposed he should be grateful for their generosity and managed to say “Thank you,” but his voice cracked on the words and he wasn’t sure if they understood his language anyway.  Iduna had told him that only those involved in trade were usually fluent.

He was led out of the tent by two men, one on each side, holding him at the elbow with iron grips. They might not have had shackles here, but this was just as effective. 

The somber faces that watched him as he passed and the uncharacteristic quiet made him feel even more nervous.  Like he was being led to his execution. He had thought he would be executed, after his father’s actions. But instead of demanding his blood, they had demanded his bond.

He had tried to protest.

“I can’t marry until I’m of age next year. When I’ll be twenty-one.” He didn’t know why he said it. Why would that law matter when all the rules were now different? When he was in a different country and his kingdom was unreachable because of the mist surrounding the wood?  Trapping them in and keeping the world out?

Yelana had spoken to him in a commanding tone. He had no authority here and might not have authority ever again. “This is how you atone for the bloodshed by your father. You will make a new bond with our people. This is how we trust you will do us no harm.”

As he walked out to where Iduna was waiting with Yelana by the firepit, he thought of his friend Elias’s wedding. Thea had been lovely in a long gown, her cheeks flush with excitement. Prior to the ceremony, Elias had paced with energy that seemed to shoot out of his fingertips; he had fiddled with his naval medals, fussed with the sword at his waist, and smoothed his hair so much that he’d flattened what was usually curly. Both of their families had been there as rings were exchanged and promises made and the castle grounds were transformed with garlands of flowers draped from every door and window and balcony and turret. Agnarr remembered laughter, joy, friends, and his father clapping his hand on his shoulder, saying “We’ll have an even greater celebration when you take your queen.”

But today, in the Nothuldra village, it was quiet and the only people he knew were the Arendellian soldiers dressed as he was, their uniforms gone. Captain Mattias, standing up but favoring one leg, caught his eye and nodded encouragingly. And he knew Iduna, if only a little. She kept her eyes away from his, and he watched as her hands clasped and unclasped in front of her. Though he didn’t know much about Northuldra, he recognized what she wore as the daily clothing of her people. They had not dressed her in festive clothing seen at the celebrations for the dam. He wondered if that was her choice.

The ceremony began in his native tongue. But Agnarr still did not understand what was happening.  His world no longer made sense. It was a lot like the sensation of being suddenly pulled into the air by the wind, blood rushing to his head, no sense of up or down or north or south.

But that had been a delightful befuddlement.  Meeting Iduna, and the rush of excitement he had felt at her smile, her kindness, her delight in her woods, had been a wonderful confusion as well. There was an undercurrent of fear now. To be cast out is a death sentence, she had told him as they said hurried goodbyes that morning, separated before the wedding ceremony. They are sentencing us to death.  Just a different kind. It will take longer and our spirits won’t be nearby to seek vengeance for violence.  They think we’ll most likely starve in the winter.  But that’s nature.  They listen to nature.  Their hands will be clean.

He held Iduna’s hands and wished his weren’t slick with sweat.  He wished he could give her a reassuring smile, but every thought was on keeping his voice even and his words from trembling as he repeated back the vows Yelana said to him.

“Where you go, I will go.  And where you stay, I will stay.  Your people will be my people and may the spirits and the land bind me to my promise.”

Iduna’s voice was soft in her answering pledge. Her blue eyes stayed on his, but he wasn’t sure what to read there.  Was she despondent? Terrified? As confused as he was?

“This is my promise. This is my vow.”  He swallowed through the lump in his throat. 

Yelana raised her hands. “Until such time as the mist lifts and the spirits return, you are cast out. You will find your own way. Be grateful for our mercy.” She looked at Agnarr and spoke to him directly. “This curse is upon us because of the actions of your father. But we do not take your death as payment. We take your life. You will live in order to right this wrong. You have my promise the soldiers of Arendelle will not be harmed. They are part of us now; your bond makes it so.  But should either of you return before the mist lifts, your lives are forfeit.  Nature has deemed you unworthy to remain among the People of the Sun.  You will sully us no more until you are forgiven for your transgressions.”

Agnarr looked at Captain Mattias again and tried to say goodbye with his eyes and his smile. Mattias’s arm looked like he was attempting a salute, but he turned it into a wave. Agnarr was relieved.  He did not want Mattias to jeopardize his own safety with a sign of loyalty.  

Iduna was now hugging two women – perhaps her mother and grandmother. Agnarr heard the older one whisper something that sounded soothing in Iduna’s ear, but not the words that were spoken.  The younger one took Iduna’s face in her hands and said “This is not the end. Their anger will not burn brightly forever.”

Agnarr wondered if she meant the spirits, the forest itself, or the Northuldra people.

Now Lemek and two younger men were carrying bundled loads.  Agnarr recognized one of the bags as his own pack. They walked past Iduna and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. They each looked like her in a different way, and he realized the other two men must be her brothers as well. He knew from Iduna’s descriptions that Rueben was the shortest and Duvka was the one with her same wavy brown hair. Rueben smiled at her, and it too looked like Iduna’s smile. Not that he had seen her smile today.  Today, she was pale and her mouth was drawn in a tight line. Keeping words in and emotion out.

The three men tied their loads to the sled and then walked past Iduna once more. As Lemek walked past Agnarr, he roughly knocked against his shoulder, hard enough to stagger him, and muttered, “If any harm comes to my sister, your death will be the most merciful part of what we do to you."

And then, they were alone. Everyone had retreated to their kotas or the outskirts of the village, and he and Iduna were alone with two reindeer, a sled, and whatever bounty had been loaded onto it.

They stood in silence for a moment, listening to the rhythmic breathing of the reindeer.  He shuffled his feet in the odd boots.  He sighed.  It was time to act like a man and not some confused child.  He bowed to her. “My lady. I mean, my wife.” He blushed and bowed again to hide his face for a moment. He cringed at his awkwardness and knew she must be as well. She was saying goodbye to everyone she had loved and everything she had ever known and he was unable to form a complete sentence. He supposed she was already regretting that she had ever saved him and bound her fate to his. 

“May I help you into the sled?”

Iduna nodded and took his hand, her expression still flat and incomprehensible.

He took the reins and led the reindeer out of the village.

***

Iduna noted the way he held the reins.  Incorrectly. Like he was riding a horse. He seemed to notice her gaze at his hands and fiddled with the reins, offering them to her.

“Would you like to lead? I don’t actually know how to do this.”

She nodded stiffly and took them.  The reindeer picked up their pace. They had a long ride until they made it to the northern caves and it would be better to get there before nightfall. 

Nightfall. She thought uneasily about what he might expect from her as newlyweds, unexpected as their circumstances were.  As her mother and grandmother had bathed her and dressed her earlier that morning, they reminded her that a wedding made two bodies one. He was a tall man with the strength of his size, and though she thought he seemed kind and gentle, she didn’t know him well.  She found that the fear of it, the anticipation of it, made it difficult to swallow, to blink, to hold the reins, to breathe, without that thought pressing her down and making her feel like the very air was buzzing.  For a moment she thought the North Wind could be back, but it wasn’t quite the same gentle breeze. Her skin felt like its own entity and she could feel each hair on her arm. She shook her head, trying to clear it.

“I’m sorry this happened to you. This can’t have been your choice for your future and I know that.”  He spoke in contrite, mournful tone.

Iduna turned to look in his eyes, even though she was afraid to see what she would find there. If she knew how she felt, it would be easier, but everything had happened so quickly.  How had they gone from meeting in the woods at what was supposed to have been a festive occasion to being cast out unceremoniously by her people to die slowly? How had he gone from being a prince to being an outcast?  From a stranger to a husband?  She could see his regret in his bruised face.

“It wasn’t your choice either. I know that.” She looked away.

***

The cave she brought them to was a day’s ride from the Northuldra village, close to where the Earth Giants had roamed. They unpacked the sled to find the makings of a tent, blankets, more clothes, some foodstuffs, tools, canteens, winter supplies, and a jug of something that made her eyes water when she sniffed it. The last gifts she would ever receive from her family.

Maybe not the last gifts. Her grandmother had whispered in her ear that she would begin work on a shawl for the children Iduna would surely have.  That she was certain she would see them one day.  Iduna’s cheeks heated as she thought of children and how making them was an activity married people usually enjoyed sooner rather than later.  

She and Agnarr set about arranging their supplies and made a dinner out of the dried meat and berries. As they passed the jug back and forth, Iduna wondered if he felt as nervous as she did to be sitting together in a cave, very alone and newly married.

Agnarr cleared his throat “Before. Before my father killed your uncle. I thought. Maybe. You liked me?”  He winced.  “I mean, you enjoyed being with me?”

Iduna nodded. “I liked being with you. That day with the wind in the woods, I was glad I met you.”

Agnarr seemed to take courage from her answer and took a deep breath before he began again. “And do you think you could you love me? Not now, I mean. I know you don’t now. But if you don’t think you could ever, I don’t want to keep you here.  If not, I will return you to your people, take their punishment.  I know they said our fates were bound, but I can’t imagine that they would force you to remain here if I was dead.”

Iduna stayed silent, so surprised at this offer that she didn’t know what to say.

“You don't have to live like this. My father is the killer.  He is the one who caused this curse of mist and angered the  spirits.  You should not bear the burden of his mistake, of my family’s shame.” He looked so despondent, so completely consumed with guilt that her heart felt full of affection. Whatever his father had been, there was no trace of it in him. She had no hesitation in her reply.

“I think . . . I think yes.  One day I could love you.” She found his eyes with her own and they both smiled.

Agnarr stood up quickly and went to their supplies, pulling out blankets and furs and arranging them into the semblance of a bed.  He found his pack and her shawl among the bundles and brought them over, sitting down beside her and wrapping the shawl around her. He squeezed her shoulders and put his arm around her, drawing her close.

“I think I will love you. Soon. And when you love me and I love you, that’s when we’ll really be husband and wife. And until then I’ll ask nothing of you except that you teach me how to be a proper Northuldra husband. How to hunt and trap and fish and prepare food, and whatever else I need to know. Can you teach me that?”

Iduna leaned onto his shoulder, accepting this gift of time, this offer of patient love. “Yes, I can.”

He reached into his pack and took out a leather pouch. “I brought my official dress for the dam ceremony, which I can’t imagine will be of much use here.  But this ring is part of that as well.” He held up a gold ring with the stamped image of a crocus on it. It was small, like it had been made for his smallest finger. “In Arendelle the men give women rings at the wedding. Most of the ceremony today was unfamiliar to me, and I thought...if I could give you this, if you would wear it, it would feel to me like we were really married. I want to show you that I will learn how to take care of you. I want to give you a sign of my promise.”

She opened her hand, palm up, to accept the ring but he took her hand and turned it, sliding the ring onto her finger. ‘Thank you.”

He took her hand and kissed it, and then held it as he brought it down to her side. She liked the feel of his hand, the cool sensation of the ring, and the blooming in her chest that was giving her hope that they could survive this, together.

They slept under blankets and furs, and feeling the warmth and the weight of his body next to hers gave Iduna a contented feeling. Sleeping huddled next to him was already beginning to feel normal.

***

Iduna looked at Agnarr’s attempt at a fishing net and laughed.

“That looks like the work of a ten-year-old!”

Agnarr laughed and replied. “I’m trying to copy yours.” He looked up and brushed the hair out of his eyes.

Iduna noticed how it was growing longer, and before she even thought about it, she reached over and tucked it behind his ear.  Her fingertips brushed against the fine, light-colored hair that was growing on his face, the beginnings of a beard.  

He blushed and ducked his head.  

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s that you’re not a great teacher.” When he looked up, she saw that he was teasing, and smiled.

“I’m a wonderful teacher.  I think it’s you. Your fingers are as unused to work as a princess’ and your hands are as soft as a baby’s.”  She wiggled her fingers at him.  “And you know about as much as a duckling on its first day out of the shell.”

Agnarr laughed again. “I’m not that different from a princess, really. And I know a lot! Just not about anything helpful right now. ”

“Oh? What do you know?”

“Well, how to negotiate trade deals.  How to sail. How to ride a horse, faster even than my friend Elias who is quite good.  Which rooms in the castle are best to hide in if you want to read a book. How to speak and write in several languages, none of which are yours. Which fork to use at dinner so as not to embarrass Lady Wollen. How to waltz. And I was learning to play the lute, but alas, my fingers are as unused to work as a princess’.”

“Oh, well, that will certainly be useful for our life here together!” Iduna said and hoped that her words still sounded light.  That she didn’t sound bitter about being with him, about having to make a life together in this place both wild and unknown to him. Because, although they had to work hard every day to survive, although it was getting colder each night and although the cloudberries were scarcer and the game getting harder to trap, she surprised herself every day at how much she liked being here with him. She had told him being cast out from one’s tribe was a death sentence. But they were, against the odds, surviving and it had begun to feel like the gift of a new life.

***

“Victory! I got one!” Agnarr held up the long wooden spear that Iduna had taught him to make, a small fish impaled onto the bottom. His trousers were rolled up to the knees and he was standing in the river, Iduna shouting encouragement from the bank. 

“Well done! We’ll be feasting better than the bears!” 

Agnarr looked up, startled.

“No, I didn’t mean there are bears. They don’t usually come out this way. We’re safe.” She considered the river, the warm day, and the way the river was shallow enough to stand, no rapids and a slow current. “This is a good spot for a bath. I can go get some clothes for us to change into. It would be nice to get clean. Do you want to go first?”

Agnarr looked at her and his expression seemed even more terrified than when he thought there might be bears about. She tried to reassure him. She supposed bathing in a river wasn’t something a prince usually did. “I’ll keep watch for you if you prefer; I don’t have to go.”

“No,” Agnarr’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat, repeating himself. “No. You go, I’ll start scrubbing.”

When she returned a while later, she stayed still and quiet on the riverbank, watching as he scooped water onto his back and ran his hands through his hair. His shirt was off, but the rest of his clothes were still on. She laughed without meaning to and he turned at the sound.

“Do you take baths with clothes on in Arendelle?” she teased.

“We take baths indoors. And not usually in the presence of others.” He was smiling, head down and avoiding her eyes.  She handed him the clean shirt she had brought.

“I’m your wife. Not a stranger.” Their hands touched as he took the shirt, and even though his fingers were cool from the river, the feel of them sent heat through her.

“I’m clean enough. Your turn now, and I promise not to peek.” He walked past her, picking up the spear. He sat facing away from the river, and she wondered at her disappointment that he seemed to be completely ignoring her as she took off her clothes. And she wondered when she had started to think of herself as his wife, instead of thinking of him as a stranger.

***

He awoke gasping and sat up so suddenly that Iduna was pulled from sleep at the rush of cold air made as his body and the blankets moved.

“Are you all right?” she rubbed her eyes and saw him do the same.

“Yes, I was just remembering. The battle. My father. But it felt real in the dream.  Like it was happening again.”

She sat up as well, cradling him in her arms, stroking his hair away from his face like she had with her baby nephews when they fussed. She found the spot on his forehead that had opened and bled as they fled the battle, the new skin soft under her fingers, the outer edges rough. She remembered the blood and the sight of it striking fear in her heart, his helplessness and terror.

“You’re alright.  We’re safe here.”

He shook his head, still somewhat frantic from the dream, the memory. “We’re not safe here.  You said this was a death sentence.  Am I leading you to your death?” He pulled away from her embrace and looked at her, his eyes wild with worry and conviction. “I will not be a murderer like my father. We’ll go back.  We haven’t been together as man and wife.  They’ll take you back.  I know they will.  I’ll take their punishment. I’ll not be a murderer.”

Iduna put her hands on his face, stroking her thumbs over his cheekbones, feeling the beard that had grown in, trying to soothe his worry.

“I am fine. We are safe. What has been meant for our harm has turned into a blessing.” She murmured it over and over again, until it seemed that he had heard her.

His eyes were less frantic and the rest of his body had stilled; she could feel him growing heavy with sleepiness again. She kept talking, whispering now in his ear. “We are safe. We are finding food, we are healthy, and each day…” She pulled on him and he lay down with her, and she saw that his breath was even and his eyes were closed. “Each day I think I fall a little bit in love with you.” 

She leaned into him, wondering if he felt the same, or if his weight of responsibility for their situation would forever prevent him from allowing himself to love her in return. 

***

“I could teach you. If you’d like. If you don’t know how, I mean.” Agnarr had been reading his book of Danish fairy tales aloud, his back against a tree trunk, Iduna pressed against his legs while weaving a basket out of the tall grasses. She turned around to look at him.

“I don’t know how. And yes, I would like to learn to read in your language. And…there’s something else I want you to teach me too.”

“Oh? Shall I make us some forks to teach you Arendellian dining etiquette?”

“No.”  She drew out the word, giving him a look.  “But I do want to learn the waltz. My brothers talked about seeing it on their trip to Arendelle. That it was strange and lyrical.  Different from our dances but beautiful in its own way.”

Agnarr nodded, already anticipating the feel of her waist in his hand, his hand in hers.

***

“So.  First I bow to you,” Agnarr bent over at the waist, affecting a formal voice and saying “My lady.” He took her hand in his, brushed it with his lips and then straightened again. She hoped her blush wasn’t visible in the light of the fire. She couldn’t seem to stop her body reacting to him in ways that surprised her. 

“Now you curtsy to me, which will be hard without a dress but you can manage I’m sure.” He put his arms out to the side, hands clenched as if holding a full skirt and they both laughed.  His imitation of a lady wearing a gown and curtsying seemed especially funny with the rustle of leaves for music and the dirt by the opening of their cave for a ballroom floor.

“And now I put my hands here, at your waist,” Iduna’s breath hitched at the touch, but he continued as if he hadn’t heard.  “And here, my hand in your hand.” Iduna thought about their wedding, how they had clasped hands and repeated words without a choice. Would she say those same words now on her own?  

“We hold them out like this, and I pull you in close to me.” He pulled her close and suddenly, she was looking right into his shoulder, inches from his face.  She could feel his breath near her cheek and she felt a shiver at the sensation. 

“As long as you can count to three, you can waltz. I’ll lead, you follow.” Agnarr started the count and pushed on her waist a bit to help her find the direction to go in.  She joined him in counting, and then after a few steps he started humming a tune to her counts of three and their dance. She liked the buzzing feel of his voice through her hand on his shoulder and smiled. 

They took a few turns around the fire, and then he was turning her and spinning her faster and faster in circles. She could smell the sweat on him from their efforts cutting wood for the fire, and wondered if his lips would taste salty with it. She thought about how his hair might feel today, now that it wasn’t damp from a nightmare. She must have been thinking too much because instead of continuing their spins around the fire, she tripped over a tree root and fell down, taking him with her.  

He took his hand off of her waist to brace her head before it hit the earth, and ended up sprawled on top of her, their other hands still clasped together. His wide hazel eyes were barely a hand’s breadth from hers, and the weight of him on top of her felt oddly wonderful, but he scrambled off of her almost immediately, spluttering an apology.

“I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” He stood and then helped her to her feet, brushing leaves off of her and picking a few out of her hair. “We don’t have as many hazards in the ballroom in terms of things to trip over, though I did see Lady Tunde’s dress catch on fire once when she was too close to the Yule Log.”

Iduna laughed, putting a hand to her chest.  She felt oddly out of breath. The dancing had been fun, but not strenuous.  Why was she reacting so?

“Did you have many waltzing partners at the castle?”

He smiled  “A few.”  He bowed again, straightened, and put his hand out once more. “But none so lovely as you. Would you like to try again?”

***

“Quieter! You sound like a reindeer in mating season!”

“My feet are bigger than yours! And it’s hard to be silent among all of these dead leaves!”

A rabbit ran at the sound of their voices and Agnarr’s footsteps, but Iduna’s arrow loosed at the right time to fell it.

“Well, I suppose I can follow you around like a hunting dog, flushing out beasts from their homes, into your steady and sure arrow.”

Iduna laughed. “I’d prefer you learn to just be quiet when you want to be.”

“Why be quiet? I have a perfectly wonderful huntress who can catch all the game I can eat!”

He reached for her and tried to approximate a waltz, the bow in her hand still between their hands. She shrugged him off, still laughing.  “We better get this rabbit picked up before a wolf claims it. But yes, more waltzing tonight.”

He smiled and she felt regret that she would have to wait until the evening for his touch.

***

“But a mermaid has no tears and, therefore, she suffers so much more.” The words were sad, but Iduna smiled.

“Yes! You did it! You’re reading! On your own! I knew you could!” Agnarr hugged her tightly, lifting her off of her feet and spinning her around.  As he set her back down, she had the urge to lean in and kiss him.

So she did.

It was wet and his lips were warm. All of her body grew warm at the touch. She began to pull away, but he pressed forward, deepening the kiss. He could taste the cloudberries on her tongue, but the scent of her this close was making him react in a way he wasn’t sure she was ready for. So he pulled away and touched his forehead to hers.

“Well I think that settles it. I’m a much better teacher than you.”

“Oh?” her response was breathy, her heart still pounding and the blood rushing in her ears making it difficult to hear what he was saying.

“Yes, you learned to read much quicker than I’m learning to hunt, or trap, or skin, or cook, or gather. Really, it’s too bad you can’t learn how to teach from how wonderful I am at imparting wisdom.” He leaned in for a quick kiss and then pulled away to her look of surprised amusement.

***

“That one, yes. That’s boska.  Pull it up.”

Agnarr grunted with the effort of balancing himself so close to the river’s edge. The plant itself came up easily, and he proudly showed it to Iduna. “Got it! How many do you want?”

“As many as you see down there. We can use it to stay healthy this winter; it’s coming on fast. Bring it up when you finish and I’ll check you’ve got the right stems. I’ve found some cloudberries over here. I thought we’d already seen the last of them.”

When he brought up the basket full of boska, she felt each stem and pronounced it a perfect harvest. As they walked back to their cave, he took her basket and reached for her hand.

On the walk back, the air felt colder than it had been.  As she shivered, he moved his hand from hers to put it around her shoulder to draw her close. They walked into the cave and he began to stoke the fire.

“Here.” She handed him a stem of boska. “This is a delicacy. The root we can cook, but taste this stem and how delicious it is. And just one stem will keep you from illness.  So says Anja and she knows everything about healing.”

He watched her peel back the outer stem and eat it. He was transfixed by her mouth, by the look of pleasure on her face, and the joy with which consumed it.

“I love you.”

She paused in her eating and looked up. “What?”

“I love you. You are kind and smart and have so much patience for me.  And I don’t know how you could ever love me when I’ve kept you from your home and your family, but it’s true.  I love you. And it’s alright if you don’t love me now.  But I love you and I want you to know. “

She swallowed and took his hand. “I love you too.”

His smile was so bright that she thought of the sun suddenly appearing after a cloudy day, of the fire spirit suddenly lighting a branch into a torch. And she felt that fire down to her toes.

So when he gently lifted her off of her feet carrying her the way the grooms in his fairytale books carried their brides, she was ready for what came next. She was eager for what came next. He had her heart and she had his. They had become each other’s people, each other’s worlds. And they had both become good at teaching and at learning and at listening to each other. She thought that it was a good thing they had gathered and stored so much for the winter. This cave and this man were all she wanted to see for a great long while.

[fairyscribbles]

Pomegranates and Decay (Shh, I’m just braiding your hair, TAO) [Gods!AU]

This is something I’ve been working on since November, and I’ve finally finished it! I have no idea how it got so big tbh ^^’’ I just fell in love with the greek!gods and I will be writing more with them! I hope you enjoy Hades!Tao!

Warning: Multiple mentions of a brutal killing, major character death (you), use of knives (but not in self-harm). If topics like these don’t sit with you, DO NOT READ THIS, PLEASE.

-

You couldn’t have been more confused. A few moments ago, you were walking down the street, minding your business, and then, you felt the soft sway of a boat floating down a body of water.

It felt almost surreal, as if you didn’t have a body, but when you were able to command your eyes to open, you were surprised to find the ceiling starless and dark. It made a bit more sense when your eyes caught the soft echo of water dripping down the walls.

Were you in a cave?

“Where…am I?” you murmured to yourself. You knew something was wrong when you didn’t jump in surprise at the sudden voice, being the scaredy-cat you were.

“Have you heard of the river Styx?” you turned your head to the source of the voice, and found an unnaturally tall figure shrouded in black, steering the gondola.

Of course you had heard of the river Styx. But that would mean…

“So I’m dead?” you said almost jokingly, but when the figure didn’t reply, you took the silence as an affirmative.

There was no way you could’ve been dead, right?

But then, how did you get here? And how did you get into these clothes? Gone were your jeans and pink leather jacket. You were dressed in a pure white gown, pooling all the way down to your ankles. When you ran your hands over it, it felt as if you were touching virgin snow, cool to the touch, feeling as if the dress would crumble away if you grabbed it in a fist.

The torso of the dress however, was striking red. It dripped down from your neckline to your stomach, branching out in fluid patterns that seemed almost impossible to recreate a second time.

Your feet were bare, and your skin did have an unnaturally pale hue, as if someone was left outside in the cold for too long or…

“How did I die?” by now, you weren’t surprised when the ferryman lifted a hand to point at the ceiling, and instead of flesh, you saw the striking white of a bone: nevertheless, you followed where he was pointing to, and you were met with the dramatic scene of your death. Even though the scene was created from fumes that shaped into things oddly similar to human bodies, you could immediately realize that one of the was yourself, walking.

The other hovered behind your specter before it rushed out at you, grabbing you from behind. It took mere seconds to slit your throat with the knife concealed in his jacket sleeve and you were falling, hands uselessly trying to stop the blood flowing down your neck and somehow close up the gaping hole in your throat so you could take another breath.

You watched as you took your last breath on that dirty sidewalk, while the figure loomed above you, grabbed your purse, and ran into nothingness. You watched as the fog image of yourself tried to stop the blood flowing from your open throat, when you ran your hand over the skin of your neck. You could feel the slight lumps of scar tissue.

“I’m dead.” You told to no one, and yet the gondolier still hummed in acknowledgement.

The discovery was more anticlimactic than you thought. So the pattern on your dress…

“Everyone has a different one,” the man said, as if reading your thoughts. A bony finger pointed over to the further away shore, where another woman stood. She wore the same kind of gown you did, but instead of the vivid red all over her torso, she had four pools of the size of coffee saucers on her chest, and two in her legs.

“Shooting. Tried to protect her children.” The hallowed look in her eyes told you she maybe wasn’t successful in that. But then again, your own emotions were fuddled, and you thought there wouldn’t be a scenario that would bring a tear to your eyes.

“Your emotions will come back,” the voice behind you spoke up.

“It takes a while for them to return, as your soul has departed your body.”

“That makes sense,” you replied, staring back at the woman looking longingly at the lime green river. Only now you’ve realized that it’s filled with eyeless faces, mouths opened in what could be yells or begging.

“Her children survived the attack. If they hadn’t, she would be reunited with them. Lord would make it so.”

“And where am I going?”

“To meet the Lord. You died on the anniversary of his queen’s reincarnation, and thus you will take her place by his side.”

“He chose me to be his wife?”

“Tao saw your departure that ripped you from the living. You intrigued him.”

“And what if I don’t want to be his wife?” you asked and you looked onward once the woman disappeared from sight.

“That is up to him to decide. I am taking you to him right now.”

-

The undertaker’s servant took you into the gardens. The flowers were grotesque versions of their earthly selves, their stalks a horrible shade of bleak dark green and the petals an ashen black, blood red, or plum purple. Tao was in the midst of these, tall and stoic in the black robe covering his whole body. His arms were bare, covered only by a sheen, see-through fabric that revealed the black tattoos sliding up and down the firm muscle, accentuating the possible danger they posed.

He wasn’t looking your way, his gaze on the tree in the center of the garden, his feline eyes holding an unexplainable emotion.

“She is here, my Lord,” and with that, the two unreadable orbs turned their attention to you. If you had your feelings back at that moment, you would’ve gasped, because the Lord of the Underworld was one of the most handsome men, in this world or the living. Even through his sharp features, there was an aspect of softness to them, a slight vulnerability of the dark circles under his eyes.

You expected to find a cruel and heartless Lord, but were met with a soul filled with emotions.

He stepped out towards you, reaching an arm out in invitation. When you grabbed it and moved over to him, he offered a slightly wry smile.

“I am so sorry for your loss,” he voiced his condolences silently and you almost laughed. You knew you would’ve heard this phrase sometime in your life, but you never expected to hear it in regard to yourself.

Instead of answering, because you knew you would’ve said something dumb in reply, you shook your head. You will come to mourn your passing.

“I am sure Sooman had already told you…”

“That I am to be your bride, yes?” you supplied after a longer pause from your spouse. The smile Tao offered you almost seem to rival the beauty of the garden.

“If you will have me,” Tao added to your statement, finally drawing the hand he had behind his back into view, barely able to hold the ripe pomegranate fruit that was cut open. The red pieces glittered like gems, the skin straining over the undoubtedly sweet juices inside.

“If you eat this, you agree to become my queen,” Tao told you as you stared down at the fruit.

“And if I don’t?”

“Sooman will take you further into Elysium to live out eternity with the gods.”

That did sound tempting, live out eternity with Gods. You had heard about Elysium during your life as well – the place where pain is unknown and people feast and drink. It goes without question that if you rejected this man, you would move onto eternal happiness. Nobody told you what waited for you here.

And yet as you stared at the man before you, the decision wasn’t as clear as one would think. This man with feline dangerous eyes holding nothing but soft vulnerability, arms designed to kill but yearning to hold…made you change your decision.

And without breaking eye contact, you grabbed a handful of the fruit, and brought it to your lips.

And in that moment, you could feel again.

-

The emotions that returned hit you like a sudden wave. The information about your passing has now been affected by your emotions, and you spent the majority of your time crying in your chambers, attempting to muffle your wails into the pillows.

Your body also seemed to have suffered from your death, judging by the way you seem to react to certain actions.

For example, you can’t stand the realization of someone having a chance of sneaking up behind you. You preferred to find places where you could sit with your back to the wall, and if that wasn’t possible, you turned around more often than hunted prey, making sure nobody dangerous was behind you – it did seem a bit silly, taking into account that you were already dead. This fact still didn’t change anything, and you flinched away from any touch that came from behind and you weren’t aware of it, no matter who was the source.

Not even the emperor of the dead, Tao, had the luxury of you not being affected by his touches.

When your emotions returned and you thought back on your arrangement, fear seeped into every pore of your body, uncomfortably tensing your muscles and keeping you up at night, even though it seemed a bit pointless.

Tao has been nothing but considerate in regards of your trauma, making sure never to come up behind you unannounced or breathing down your neck. What he didn’t let you do, however, is wallow in your chambers for whole eternity. He made sure that you ate enough (pomegranates seemed to be your favorite, and he made sure he had at least a bow every few days ready for you, already cleaned and washed, looking more like rubies than fruit) and that you accompany him on his daily strolls through the garden.

The walks were usually silent, the only sound being the soft footsteps of the two of you, or the occasional soft wail in the distance. Those you tried to ignore.

This time, however, the Lord of Death broke the silence.

“My lady,” he called to catch your attention, hands grasped behind his back.

“Yes, my Lord?” you answered back, already familiar with the protocol Sooman introduced you to.

With being the bride of the King of Death came royal etiquette.

“There is something that has burdened my mind for a while now…” he started off, his body angling slightly towards yours.

“Yes?” you bid him to continue, watching his thoughtful face.

“You are my bride, and yet up until now… I have not learnt the reason of your passing.” If you had any more flowing blood in your veins, it would’ve frozen at that moment. And yet you hoped that he hadn’t noticed.

You kept staring right in front of you, and Tao seemed to be doing the same.

“Are you not capable to find out yourself, my Lord?”

You could already hear Sooman’s groan at your evident breach of etiquette, but you hoped he would be able to forgive your rudeness at the moment.

“I do, but I would like to hear it from you. I…” he paused temporarily, stopping his walk as well.

“If you wish not to tell me now, I respect your decision.” He clicked his tongue in annoyance, but you couldn’t help but be surprised when you realized his annoyance was aimed at himself.

“You have just had your emotions back, of course you don’t want to discuss this…” he turned away from you, evidently disgusted by himself. If you had not known it from his body language, the low but clear “stupid Zitao” was evidence enough.

“I…” your voice stopped him. Turning, the golden orbs bore into yours, almost hanging on your response.

“I was…I was killed.” He didn’t say anything, and you still had the need to correct yourself.

“I mean, of course I was killed, I’m dead, I just…” with a deep sigh, you tried to ward away the tears that were already building up. Licking your front teeth and stepping from one foot to the other, you continued.

“By…by my boyfriend.” You didn’t look at him, so you didn’t know if this piece of information somehow resonated with your husband. If you had expected a dramatic response, you would’ve been disappointed.

“Apparently…he was low on cash, and had debts.” The tears were now freely rolling down your cheeks, but your hands, balled at your sides, didn’t rise to wipe them away.

“And he knew that…t-that I just got a…paycheck.” Your reply was now more a sob than anything else, but you felt that if you told him this, it would help you too, in the end. It was too much of a burden to carry on the too slender shoulders you had.

“What he didn’t know was, that I sent it to my friend. We were to go on vacation together.” You barked out a wet laugh, looking at your hands.

“He killed me for 10$.”

Silence rang through the garden, not even the wind dared to move to disturb the deafening roar of stillness. After a moment, which felt like eternity, soft footsteps nearing you alerted you of the presence of your husband, yet you still dared not to lift your gaze up to meet him.

“It was wrong of me to ask so soon, my lady…” his voice was low, calming your distressed soul.

“…I apologize for prying, and causing you such hurt.”

“___.” For the first time, you looked up and into those deep eyes. Right now, you caused them to have surprise flicker over.

“I’m sorry?”

“When we’re alone like this…” brushing away the tears from your cheeks, you tried to smile at him.

“I’d prefer if you called me by my name, my Lord.” Tao smiled.

“Only if you do so as well, ___.” Your name was delicately pronounced, as if uttering it in the wrong way could cause a catastrophe. You returned the smile gently, rubbing at your tears before stepping away from Tao.

“If you’d excuse me…I’d like to freshen up before our dinner.” Your husband just outstretched his arm in the direction of your chambers, and you followed it with a slight bow.

Only when you were walking away did Tao frown.

“Sooman?” he asked to the darkness, and his servant appeared as if he sat by his feet the whole time.

“Yes, my Lord?”

“I want her killer found. Find him, mess with his head. And when he is at his lowest, let me know.”

“Of course, my Lord.” Sooman disappeared as stealthily as he came, leaving the Lord of the underworld staring broodily at the trees abundant with death fruit.  

-

“___?” hearing your name ripped you from your thoughts, and your head sprang up from where your gaze was focused on the food piling on your plate. Your husband was looking at you with a small smile.

“Is the food to your liking?” immediate guilt filled your entire body. Tao must have noticed that ever since you told him of your death, your well-being seemed to fall behind once more. It was harder to find you roaming your kingdom, as you thought it was better protection to just stay in bed as much as possible.

That has not been the best choice either, as your killer found his way into your dreams as well, tearing you from sleep with terrified screams just as the knife slid across your neck…

And here he is, the Lord of Undeath, trying his best to make you feel good once more, filling the entire dining room table with a vast amount of various meals, some familiar to you from your life before, others completely foreign. Exactly in front of you were various seafood dishes, and even though they looked very appetizing, you shied away from them.

“All of this…” you tried to look for words that could capture how much you appreciated your husband’s effort, but your mind went blank. Were there even words to express your gratitude?

You hoped to show him your thankfulness by eating all of the deliciousness that was in front of you, but your stomach betrayed you. You felt so stuffed after only a few bites, that you worried that eating more could make you feel sick. And so, in fear of ruining your dinner, you stuck to lighter foods and made sure to drink enough water to balance everything out.

“I can’t even start to describe how delicious everything looks, Tao.” You finally settled for an answer, one that seemed to please your husband by the look on his face.

“I am glad to hear that, ___.” He replied, taking another bite from his own meal.

“If I could recommend, the Sea Cucumber is a meal you should try.” You appreciated your husband’s recommendation, but even the name itself stopped you from eating it. You eyed the brown sea cucumber bouncing in sauce with what you hoped was very well masked distain.

“Ah, those…” you smiled, pushing the plate slightly away from you.

“I’m sorry, I…sea food doesn’t sit that well for me. It makes me a bit sick…”

“Oh! I’m…I’m sorry, I did not know of that! If I had known…”

“Oh no, Tao! It’s not that! You like it, so of course it should be here! I mean, I should even learn how to make it, so I can make it for you someday…” your voice trailed off at the sudden domestic offer you made. After thinking about it, it sounded silly. Tao had hordes of servants answering his every whim, of course he must have chefs that were specialized making all of his favorite dishes, and here you are, some nobody, offering to make his dinner.

“I’m…sorry…” you needed to say something into the silence that settled over the dining room.

“What are you apologizing for, ___?” Tao’s low voice was soothing your anxious nerves.

“It just seemed silly…me, cooking for you, the…the God of…”

“Death?” he supplied with a grim chuckle, and if your cheeks could’ve heated with a blush, they would have.

“Well, yes! I mean, I couldn’t even cook an omelet on bad days, and you must have one of the best chefs that walked the earth cooking for you! It’s just…silly, to think…that…ah, you’d want to eat something I prepared.” Tao watched your attempt to explain yourself with a smile.

“Would it be as silly as seeing the God of Death attempt to cook for his distressed bride?” he questioned you with a slight smile, popping a piece of the sea cucumber in his mouth. At his comment, your jaws slacked in awe. Eyes flickered from the food on the table to your husband and back.

“This…you…”

“Not all of it, of course. Only the seafood.” The seafood he so ardently recommended to you, you realized with a pang, and almost frantically, you reached over to put some on your plate. As if sensing you would do that, Tao chuckled, moving the dishes from your vicinity.

“You don’t have to force yourself to eat something you do not want, my queen,” he told you with a soft smile, and if there was any more blood left in your body, you were sure it would rush to your cheeks at this moment.

“Tao, all of this…”

“Is an attempt to apologize for halting your journey to well-being.” He offered to complete the sentence for you, and he covered your hand briefly with his. The touch was electric, and all the nerve endings on the skin of your hand seemed to come alive with his brush of his fingertips over your knuckles.

“This is all very new to you, and I might have asked questions that could’ve been saved for later. My impatience brought you pain, for which I apologize. This is my way of saying I was stupid, and I hope I will never put you in such distress again.”

An emotion you have thought you would never feel in the underworld burst in your chest. The onslaught of admiration and adoration bloomed, spreading warmth over you in lulling waves, waves that brought one of the most loving smiles on your face. A loving smile you presented to your husband.

Words were useless in a situation like this, and with a soft nod of your head, you returned to your dish, a completely new feeling overcoming you and making you enjoy your meal in a way you haven’t before.

-

“Can I ask you a question?” flew from your lips before you were able to stop it, crashing the silent stroll through the kingdom’s gardens. Your husband did not seem to mind your interruption in the slightest, turning to you with a soft smile adorning his features.

“Of course you may, ___. What’s on your mind?”

As you suspected, your following question made the gentle smile slide off his face almost instantly.

“Your servant told me I died on the anniversary of your first wife’s death…” where he would usually bid you to continue, now he stayed silent. You did not let that deter you from finding out more about Tao.

“Is that true?”

Tao looked away from you, staring right ahead. There was a small crease between his eyebrows, the frown only accentuating the handsome somberness of his face. You realized you have opened a can of worms with your question, but it has been burning you from the inside for quite some time now, and you felt it was only fair to know more about your husband as well.

“It is true, ___. You have arrived here on the anniversary of her departure from here…her departure from being by my side.”

His response was fertile ground for new questions to sprout deep within you. Who was she? How did she get to the underworld? And most importantly, why did she leave?

“You must know at least something about her, ___.” Tao’s voice cut through your thoughts. You frowned slightly as you looked at him with a tilted head, confusion blooming across your features.

“Her name was Persephone, and she was the daughter of the Goddess of Harvest.”

You have heard of that myth before. Of the Lord of the Undead stealing Spring’s daughter, causing Demeter so much sorrow, no crops grew while she was with her husband.

But as you’re looking at your husband right now, you cannot imagine him stealing away someone’s daughter, much less raping her and bounding her to his kingdom. Tao seemed to sense the inner turmoil within you, as the corner of his mouth lifted upwards in a smile.

“Humans seemed to have altered the story a bit more to their liking, judging by your look. I have not stolen my bride, nor have I forced myself upon her.” He paused at a sudden realization that came to him, laughing out loud. “Actually, she more or less forced herself on me.”

Raising your brows in question, Tao continued.

“We met at a gathering. As you can imagine, being the God of Death does not make me the most sought out party guest, and so most of the time I was left on my own. I did not mind it though,” he added with a small smile as he saw your deepening frown.

“I was about to leave anyways, when she came by, curiousness in her eyes and fearless step as she neared me. She was the first person that had shown interest in the underworld for a different reason than an extremely morbid one.” He looked over to the vastness of the orchards that spread before you.

"She asked me if there is sunlight in my domain. If I could make flowers grow. Questions that I myself at that time didn’t have an answer for. When I told her just that, she pursed her lips and bowed, turning on her heel and left. And I thought that it would be our last encounter." with another chuckle, Tao looked down at his shoes, shaking his head.

"How wrong I was. It couldn’t have even been a week when Sooman came after me and told me with the biggest confusion on his face that there was some deity there to meet me. Not just somebody, it was her.

She came with arms filled with different types of seeds and a smile that made the absence of the sun redundant in a place like this. Without the slightest fear, Persephone took it upon herself to change the underworld to be as it is now, not only for the sake of ones who come here after death, but also for my sake."

"Nobody cared about me like that before." his words had you gripping his hand tight, as you bid him with a nod of your head to continue.

"Her disappearance from Earth was not ignored. Demeter has scoured every inch of it before she came to realize she forgot to check one last place. But she had been too late. By the time she arrived, the garden was not the only thing that was in full bloom. Persephone and I had married before her mother could oppose, and even through the wrath of the entire Pantheon, we were happy."

"Is this how the seasons were created?" you gently asked when Tao stopped for a moment. He looked over at you, a small smile gracing his features. However, it could not overshadow the flicker of pain that appeared in his eyes.

 "How I wish that were the case, ___. The myth version states that Demeter had been so sad about the marriage that she wept every time Persephone was with me in the underworld, causing the plants to wither and the days to get colder. The moment she would return to the living world, things would go back to normal." Tao gripped your hand tighter, the bitter smile on his face straining.

"How I wish that were true. Persephone...she..." after he cut himself off again, a great sigh left his chest.

"The living, no matter if deity or not, do not belong in the underworld, ___." you returned his tight hold at the words, your breath stuck in your throat.

"Persephone wasn’t used to this world. Wasn’t used to not hearing the birds chirping, or watching the sun rise every morning. Unable to swim in the river and pet the deer. And even if we were able to bloom the orchards that you walk through daily, it was not enough."

"And just like the world withered when Persephone was away, she herself began to wilt while she was by my side. Her skin grew paler, eyes dimmed...strength was leaving her every moment she spent in my domain. And even if she would rejuvenate back when she was with her mother, her stay with me turned from happiness into suffering, not only for her, but for me as well."

You were sure that if they could, Tao’s eyes would weld up with tears at this moment. Your heart clenched by the obvious pain your husband was going through.

"I couldn’t watch her do that to herself anymore. Even though she was stubborn and told me she wouldn’t leave my side, I couldn’t let her do this to herself, and I..."

"I banished her. I forbade her from ever stepping foot into my domain again, and I saved her life."

Everything stilled. Never before had the absence of wind and life been so evident than now. You yourself couldn’t offer a single word, and you just stared at Tao as he very evidently twisted knife he plunged into his own heart millennia ago.

"As she recovered, Persephone tried to rekindle contact with me, but I wouldn’t let her. I knew the moment I would let her speak to me again, the whole resolve of saving her would crumble and that time, the stay in hell would kill her." His hard glare was sent towards the pomegranate trees.

"After a while, she gave up, for which I was glad. I almost got a taste of my own medicine, and my own powers almost took away the one I loved the most. And from that time on, I have decided not to let anyone get so close to me as the daughter of spring did." He glanced over at you, and you could see the gradual return of something warm in his eyes. You didn’t even realize when the two of you stopped walking, only noticing when he bid you to start again.

"Do you still love her?" you blurted out the only thing that you thought of at that moment, and Tao paused in thought.

"No," he decided after a moment. "It has been ages ago, and I have not seen her since. Thinking about it now, it has been better, for the both of us in the end." He looked up at the murky darkness hanging above the two of you, a smile gracing his face.

"The daughter of spring no longer has the heart of the King of Death. But I feel as if there is someone else who might."

-

It was a few days after that fateful dinner when the safety you’ve felt in your husband’s kingdom crashed down like a ceiling, suffocating you under the rubble. The day began normally, with you eating with your husband before parting ways, Tao resuming his duties as the Lord of the underworld, and you resuming your walks around his kingdom, making yourself acquainted with the area.

You never wandered too close to the river. It was something to be expected, as the poisonous hue of green revealed only thousands of tortured souls on their way to eternal torture for the sins they have committed in their past life. Tao revealed to you that only people who have done very bad things during their living days are condemned to take the journey in the river of agony before they are deposited to the only division in Tao’s army you would hope to never meet- the demons of agony. Under their reign, these damned souls are to forever repeat meaningless tasks of immense difficulty and pain, never to be relieved from their new duty.

Understandably, these souls knew their destination, and their faces were morphed into grotesque grimaces of eternal screams, mute pleadings and evident anger, anger directed to all their actions that have brought them to this exact place. This is why none of the souls are pleasing to look at, and the first time you have peered over the edge, you were haunted with bad dreams. Growing tired of all those negative emotions taking control of your body, you made it your task to peer into the river on a daily basis, to get used to the souls that are finally being judged justly for all their crimes.

What you would have never anticipated in a million years, however, was to one day peer over the edge and find your boyfriend’s face in the mass of sinners, wide, crazed eyes peering straight into yours.

And your breathing shallowed as you scrambled away from the edge, not caring about your white silken dress being dragged across the ashen black ground. You could feel your heart being squeezed in your chest by indescribable fear, all your muscles tightened in the flight or fight response that still has not kicked into gear.

The only thing that was set into motion was your stomach, and you barely had enough time to turn your head away and empty your stomach contents all over the dark floor. It almost immediately seeped into the ground, leaving no trace behind of your sickness, only deep inside you as you visibly started to shake.

After all you’ve been through, you thought you were rid of him. After all that pain, after all that recovering, you thought you wouldn’t need to see him ever again. You entertained the only single option of seeing him again after many years of living as the queen of undeath, and by that, you would rise to meet him fearlessly, giving him only slight taste of what he put you through all those years back.

But not now. Not so soon.

And as a sob ripped through your throat, you stood on shaky legs, running to the only place you deemed safe. As you ripped open the doors to your chambers, you saw your husband pacing the room nervously, waiting for your arrival. His presence stopped you in your escape to safety, and you faced him with tears streaming down your face, pinched eyebrows and immense pain and fear in your eyes.

The second Tao saw you, he understood completely.

“He’s here.” You sobbed out as you let go of the door, stepping closer to your husband.

“I know,” he replied, nearing you.

“How do you know?” grabbing onto the arms that were reaching out for you, you couldn’t help but to grasp his forearms in a tighter grip than you should have. Your husband didn’t seem to mind.

“I brought him here.” Came the silent confession from your husband, one that had another sob rip from your body.

“Why?” was your only response, closing your eyes, unable to look at the guilt and pain pooling in Tao’s expression.

“After what he did to you…___, I couldn’t��I couldn’t let him live.” Tao grit through his teeth, his palms turning upwards to grab at your elbows, anchoring you.

“I couldn’t let him do that. I had to…” he cut himself off for a second, looking off to the side with clenched jaws.

“I wiped him off the Earth’s surface myself. Made sure he suffered more than anyone else ever has, before I took him out like the trash he is.” Slowly, giving you every opportunity to move away, his hand reached up to gently cup your face in his palm. You couldn’t help but to nuzzle into the hand of the man who just confessed to killing someone. It was as if that information wasn’t even important to you.

Tao killed. Tao killed for you.

“How…how long will he be here?” you asked after a few moments of silent breathing, trying to get yourself under control.

“He is already with the overseers. He will stay in the pits until I step away from the throne, and he is condemned to forever try to stitch his ripped up throat. His thread will break every time, and he will be forced to start again. He is condemned to relive the pain he has inflicted until I see fit.” The eyes that you’ve known to hold only softness blazed with determination and anger.

And that’s when you for the first time saw the side to Tao that was known to everyone but you. Because at that moment, it wasn’t your husband that stood before you. It was the Undertaker, the Lord of Darkness, the Bringer of Death.

The person who had done all that to protect you.

-

Your recovery from meeting your killer was a slow, yet steady one. Knowing that his place was far away from you, locked in by endless torment, you had the courage to walk outside with your husband as company.

The two of you did not near the river, however. Tao did not ask you to do so, and you both knew why you didn't want to go there.

Tao made sure you are busy enough during the day- showing you the further reaches of his realm, giving you tours of the parts in the palace you have not seen before. He even showed you the Undertakers Library, a vast room filled with countless tomes.

"Where do you think books go after they are burned, ___?" Tao asked you with a risen eyebrow and your jaw slacked in astonishment. Are all the books that were ever burned in here, you thought to yourself as you looked away from your husband and to the vastness of hidden knowledge before you. Are the books from the Tower of Babylon here? The Alexandrian Library? Th-

Your thoughts were interrupted by a snort sounding from your side, and you turned just in time to witness your husband's facade crack as he resolved into giggles.

"Please tell me you didn't believe that, wife," he managed to stutter through his giggles. The only reply he got was a punch to his shoulder.

Your next days were spent either in the library, burrowing through countless books written in forgotten languages (Tao's first kiss he'd ever given you held the gift of knowledge, and as his lips pressed against your forehead you gained the ability to comprehend languages that were not even known to the brightest of scholars) or tending to your own little sapling of a pomegranate tree that you've decided to grow.

That did not prevent your killer from returning to your dreams. Before, you dreamt of him rarely - scarce nights spread over a too long period of time to be very concerned over it, honestly. But now, there were nights when he did not flow down the river into purgatory. There were nights when he stood from his lime green grave, covered with his own blood and lust for it in his eyes as he chased you through your home and killed you on your husband's throne, fury personified as he tore you limb from limb. Other nights, he would grab at your ankle as you were to turn away from him and pull you into the murky green waters of the river Styx, where he would hold you down until your dead lungs filled with the substance, eternally drowning you without giving you the sweet release of death.

Both of these dreams had you waking up with a scream on the tip of your tongue and your husband bursting through your door, eyes bewildered and body ready to protect you from whatever harm that threatened you. He would then gather you in his arms, holding you tight and whispering apologies into your hair until you blacked out from a mixture of exhaustion and fear.

Tao knew he couldn't leave it be like this.  

 -

After one of the more severe nightmares you’ve experienced, the morning was slow. It passed by like molasses, time stretching slowly as you woke your body up, reveling in the feeling of safety your bed finally offered. Was it because of Tao’s lingering scent and the shirt he slipped over your head when yours became too soaked with tears? Even you yourself didn’t know.

What you were sure of however, was that only you and your husband were allowed into your chambers.

And you were pretty sure your husband didn’t bark.

You frowned in confusion, eyes still unwilling to open. The bark sounded again, followed by your husband’s reprimanding shush. It seemed effective, because instead of another bark a whine sounded softly from the still unknown source.

"___?" Your husbands soft voice carried through the morning lull, and you turned your head towards him, eyes still stubbornly resting closed. Instead of replying with words like a human being, you settled for a softer hum. The end of your bed dipped with a weight placed on top of it. At first you thought it was Tao sitting down, but a huff and movement that could in no way come from your husband proved you wrong.

You opened your eyes just in time to be attacked by a flurry of midnight black and fire red, three small tongues and happy paws digging into your chest. Unexpectedly, you flinched away with a forced laugh out of your throat, trying to wake up, sit up and press away the too happy bundle of joy all at the same time.

"T-Tao-! What?" When your back was finally settled against the headboard and your eyes somewhat opened, you were met with a sight that would later on become the source of a smile on your face. Your husband, sitting on the edge of your bed, looking oh so tired but oh so smitten, watching the small puppy attempt to wiggle its way from your arms so it could attack you again with dog kisses.

And the puppy itself. When you read about the hell hound, you had envisioned something so scary, it could stop the hearts of people trying to break into hell. Something so dangerous, only one bite from one head would deem fatal, not even mentioning the other two sets of scary sharp teeth. But as you looked down at the bundle of warmth in your arms, you could not find anything of the sort. The puppy whined silently when you didn’t let him come close, but it was understandable, as you saw that the red stripes that mixed in with the black were made out of molten fire, the fur moving softly in an imitation of lava. Tao must have seen your apprehension because he smiled, scooting up closer to snatch the struggling puppy from your arms, making sure you saw that he grabbed onto the red part of its fur.

"It doesn’t hurt, ___," he reassured you with a smile, settling it down back on your legs.

"But...what is he...how did you get him?"

"I thought that if you had someone to guard you while I have to tend to duties would make you feel better, especially at night. Maybe having Coal with you will make you feel protected when I cannot."

Hearing your husband’s words, you almost teared up, arms limply stretched in front of you so your new puppy could excitedly lick up your forearms before nuzzling into your lap, making sure it was comfortable enough to make a home. You have told your husband of a puppy you owned while you were alive, a rottweiler who made you feel so safe even though you were sure if there was an intruder breaking into your house, they would be only attacked by tens of pounds of excited fluff hoping to meet a new person. You told him how dogs made you feel calm.

"I’m sorry I couldn’t bring him sooner, dear," Tao started to explain himself, deciding to look down at Coal.

"I didn’t want him to part from his mother sooner than he should - Sooman told me it would be better for both of them to stay in contact until the puppy is grown enough to start eating solid food and-" his speech was cut off by you sliding into his lap and engulfing him in an embrace, face hidden in the crook of your neck, his somewhat strained behavior soothed by fingers gliding through his hair. You felt his arms hover above your body for the slightest of moments, unsure, before they gripped at your sides and pulled you closer.

"Thank you," you whispered, able to ignore the hell hound pawing at your thigh with a soft whine. Tao’s muscles visibly relaxed, and the Lord of the Undead rested his head against your shoulder. The sigh that lifted tons off his chest was audible in the silence of your bed chambers.

You wished you could tell him more, but those two simple words carried all that you felt at that moment and more. Thinking back on it, there was anyone even during your living phase so doting and caring as this man you were currently embracing, a person who is depicted everywhere as the personification of evil itself, as someone sinister you needed to watch out for.

That was not your husband. That was not your Tao, able to cover up his emotions so well but still overflowing with them. The pride in his eyes when he looks over his garden, the satisfactory smirk when you compliment the sweetness of fruits he gifts you. The pain when he must receive a soul of a young child, ripped away from life by unspeakable aggression.

"I just want you to feel safe, ___..." he murmured into the crook of your neck, plush lips gently brushing against the part of your body you thought you would never let anyone else get close to.

And even though you didn’t reply by words, you knew he understood as you hugged him a bit closer. Pressed your lips up against the crown of his head in the wordless "I feel safe when I’m with you."

-

You wished you could feel better with Coal by your side, but it seemed that even the small cindered puppy bumbling around your ankles did not lift the uncomfortable feeling of being watched and judged by many eyes in the room.

Tonight was the first official dinner in the underworld with you as Tao's bride. The realm of the underworld was wider than you had thought, and many of the spirits of former nobles flocked to Tao's palace to see the first bride the Undertaker has taken in centuries. The high noses and pinched eyebrows shown that they had high expectations.

What they did not expect in the slightest was an anxious mess as yourself, feet wobbly in the high heels, hands nervously sliding over the soft fabric of your black dress, hair itching in the elaborate hairdo done by the very nice, albeit sorrowful banshee that came to help you prepare just before the event itself.

You wanted to make a good impression. You wanted to be someone your husband could be proud of, someone who he could show off comfortably, a person who could show that the ruler can still make good decisions and therefore rule in the same manner.

It was hard to hold it up when there were so many and so disfigured people in your vicinity. Undeath did not suit many of the nobles that were present, and there was only so much you could ignore. You were quite sure your nervous smile would not fool the old baron with the unhinged jawline that made his speech incomprehensible, if the empty eye sockets that were peering up at you were capable of seeing.

What did not help at all was the fact that you overheard the critique by the countess Bathory, a beautiful yet cruel woman that eyed you with a blood-red gaze.

"Our Lord could choose whichever beauty that has walked the earth, and yet he decided for her?" It was the first reminder for you to straighten your posture and try to appease the guests once more.

It failed once dinner began and food started to be served. You were looking forward to it, as you helped Tao with creating the menu for one of the most important nights in your life after dying. You were glad that the food was being called for and the guests were bid to sit- your feet began to hurt, as you weren't used to wearing them. Letting a deep breath out and leaning down to scratch over Coal one more time, you hoped it would be only smooth sailing since there.

What you completely forgot about was the fact that waiters are quite literally ghosts, and when you saw from your right periphery a pale hand reach over you, hand filled with a plate abundant with your favorite food, your whole body seized up in a panic.

 The yell you let out physically hurt your chest, and you curled into a small ball, knees knocking up against the table and knocking over the closest wine glasses, their red substance seeping into the white sheets. The arm was almost as shocked as you were, because the plate slipped from between the phantasmal fingers, dirtying the pristinely set table. Your hands circled around your neck, protecting it from every possible attack, your scar burning under your fingertips.

And yet the sudden panic left as quick as it came, and all it left behind was the deafening quiet. The numerous judging eyes and eye sockets looking at you.

Your husbands furrowed brows and tight lips. And you couldn't take it anymore.

Standing up, you ignored as you knocked into the table one more time, bowing towards it (Sooman didn't even mention bowing to you, was it a cultural thing in the underworld?) and you rushed from the large dining hall, the clicking of your heels and the pitter-patter of your puppy trailing behind you the only sound you heard up until you got to the door.

The single word heard from the Baroness made the tears of shame overflow.

"Pathetic."

-

Tao's anger vibrated, expanded out of his chest as he tried to calm himself down. He was on edge the whole night, could feel his wife's discomfort and wished he could end it all, but tradition was tradition, and the introduction of his new bride was not only a showcase for the others but also a warning not to mess with the new addition to the palace. If he would not introduce you formally as his consort, some nobles could have gotten it in their heads that you were only a mere concubine to warm his bed before you continued to your eternal destination.

He tried to make it as painless as possible, but the most important ones were the biggest pain in the ass, as always. Ever since he heard the Baroness talk to you with a scoff in her voice and a glance she would reserve only for the lowest of the low, he knew the best way to save you was to start dinner.

What he did not anticipate was your reaction to the food being served. Maybe it was just a buildup from all the stress that you had harbored the past days. Maybe it was the unexpected waiter that spooked you. But he would not expect your reaction in any scenario.

Tao's heart clenched when he saw the pain and embarrassment in your eyes once you realized what had happened. All he wanted to do was rush over and comfort you, but everything about your posture yelled about apprehension of being near people and he already anticipated your escape to your room.

What made him explode, however, was the sneer from the Baroness as she sipped on her wine some more.

"Pathetic." she said.

Pathetic, she called his consort.

Pathetic, she called the only source of happiness Tao had had in millennia.

And the King of the Underworld exploded, dark power radiating from his body and sweeping the table clean. The tattoos on his arms started moving like snakes, coiling around in preparation of attack.

 "Out." he growled, sure that all could hear him in the silence of the hall.

"OUT, I TELL YOU!" and with another swish, he sent a surge of his power over the noble guests, disintegrating them to dust. There would be a moment in the future he might regret his literal outburst, but the only thing he cared about at that moment was to get to you and learn what happened and how he can help to make it all better.

Tao had expected to hear sobs all the way down the hall, and he was left surprised when the hallway leading to your chambers was as dead as a grave. The only sound that he could hear over the thudding heartbeat in his ears were Coal’s soft whines as he tried to get into your chambers. It seemed that the tiny puppy wasn’t quick enough to make it into the room with you. It made his approach to the door that much cautious, as he had no idea what he would encounter behind it. You and the hell hound were most of the time closely together and knowing that you were so distressed that you left him behind was a bad omen.

Taking one more deep breath, he raised his hand, knocking on the wood what he hoped could be interpreted as softly.

There was no reply, and in a moment, he knocked once more.

"___? It's me...can I come in?" Tao spoke up gently. He sighed, stepping that much closer and resting his forehead against the door when he heard your reply.

"I deeply apologize, my Lord, for causing a scene. I...I understand if you wish to return to the guests." He hasn't heard your voice like that in a very long time. The last time you sounded so...small, was when you saw your dead boyfriend in the river.

To learn that all the progress you had gone through was gone with one word made Tao's soul fill with acidic anger.

"They are all gone, ___. I sent them home." it might have been his voice, gone all too hard at the thought of the sneering, decaying baroness, but the hitch in your throat was recognizable anywhere.

"Oh...Oh. I'm...I'm so sorry I ruined dinner, my Lord..."

"Please let me come in, ___." It wasn't usual for the Undertaker, but Tao was ready to beg his way into the room to face you and make sure you were alright.

"I just want to make sure you're okay, I promise. I'll leave once my soul is sated and you wish so, but please...let me make sure you are well."

The other side of the door was silent, contemplation thick in the air. With each passing second Tao's heart was clenched by something ice cold and iron hard, until you made it go away by opening the door.

Looking at you made Tao's heart ache. The smile he came to look forward to on a daily basis, all gone, the proud posture fit for a Queen of Death shriveled into hunched shoulders fitting for prey. And your eyes. Oh, your eyes which were always so honest and open with him, suddenly guarded, as if you were still not sure about letting him in.

Scared, as if you were not sure if he would lay his hand on you in a different way than in comfort.

 "___," passed his lips brokenly, and the hands that were resting against the door fell to his sides, not daring to put any energy into them in fear of his arms surging out and grabbing you in a safe embrace.

"It's okay." were the only words that could come to his mind.

"You did nothing wrong."

Silence.

Silence, before the mask you carefully hid your face behind cracked, and you threw yourself into his arms.

Tao's arms held you tight, grip so strong one might think that you were about to be whisked away from him at any moment. One of his palms trailed upward to cup the back of your head, fingers carding through the carefully prepared curls in comfort, as you wailed into your husband's shirt.

You kept blubbering out apologies, words mumbled and almost incoherent, and Tao kept hushing you, rubbing up and down your back every time the hitch in your throat made you cough. You stood there for what seemed like hours but could have easily been seconds. The adrenaline rush and fear, paired with the relief that your husband was not going to punish you for ruining such a special night left you drained, and it was clear in the way your grip on him loosened, your head lolling over onto his shoulder.

"Are you okay, my love?" Tao whispered quietly, the pet name rolling off his tongue so naturally one might think this was the millionth time he called you so. If there was any more running blood in your veins, you would have blushed as if it's your first time hearing it, rightfully so.

"I'm...I'm so t-tired..." you were barely able to mumble out, and without any hesitation, you husband scooped you up into his arms and brought you over to your bed, laying you gently on the soft surface.

"Should I leave?" he murmured into the sleepy air, and you shook your head with furrowed brows. Your hands had just enough strength to pull at his clothes and into the haven that was your bed. Tao went apprehensively, hoping he was not crossing any boundaries that might shoot up once the two of you wake up.

"Are you sure, ___? I don't want to force you...you need your rest." he cut himself off in the middle, not knowing how to deal with the situation.

"Please, just..." you sighed, burrowing into his chest once you got him where you wanted him.

"I don't sleep well alone. Please, just stay."

Tao relaxed into the bedsheets, kicking off the shoes that were biting into his feet at this point. Curling an arm under you, he scooped you much closer to him, making sure you melded into his side and were able to rest your head on his chest.

Just as you were straying away, Tao started moving again. Having closed your eyes already and being in no mood to open them again, you voiced your dislike in the movement by groaning gently. Your husband shushed you.

"I know, I know, let me just get this one up." and with one arm, he reached over the edge of the bed and returned with a handful of sizzling puppy, who licked at your face twice, just to make sure you were okay. After that, it headed to the end of the bed, twirled around a few times before deciding about the best sleeping place, and dozing off.

It was quiet in the Hold of the Underkeeper.

-

Days passed since the cursed dinner. Tao had forced the bloody baroness back into his hold with her proud head hung in shame, as the murderer of hundreds of young girls bowed and voiced her apology. You knew deep down that it was more of a survival move than her genuine feelings, as Tao would probably have her hung by the entrance to the Keep as warning to others who would insult his wife, but the fact that she did at least that was enough. You wanted to forget the night as quickly as possible.

You also finally opened up to your husband about your chronic fear of somebody standing behind you or appearing there suddenly, without your knowledge. It wasn't the waiter's fault that it did not know of your panic, and that was the reason he escaped punishment. Instead of revenge, you wanted to focus on healing, and you hoped your husband would think the same way.

Tao agreed with you wholeheartedly. He felt bad for all the times he thought his sneaking up upon you was just playful banter of two married people, when it was genuine terror that instilled in you instead of mirth. Holding your hands so gently, he asked if you had any ideas of how to work on your fear.

The only time your whole body wasn't seizing up in fear while someone was behind you was when Tao's arms were wrapped around your waist, brining your back to rest gently against his chest. Tao back hugging you was calming instead of anxiety-inducing.

Ever since then, Tao had made it his personal mission to envelop you in his arms every time he could. In the beginning he would announce his presence, asking you for consent as he uttered "can I hug you?" in the gentlest voice he possessed, gathering you into his embrace only after you allowed him so. The hugs would last anywhere from a minute to the whole night, as the two of you shared lights strokes of the fingertips and gentle nuzzles of the tips of your noses, talking about each other's day.

Gradually, Tao did not have to ask for approval anymore. It took a while, and there were hiccups along the way, but one day, he did not need to let himself be known to you before touching you, and the gentle touch of his fingertips on your sides did not make you jump. Servants and other guests in the Hold still made you queasy and you made sure to keep your eyes on them, but unsuspecting back hugs from your husband became more dear to you each day.

-

When you first woke up and looked out of the window, you thought your eyes were deceiving you. The usual darkness of the underworld was replaced by a whiteness you only remember from the time you were alive. Could it be...?

You gently slid from your husband's arms, grateful that Tao literally slept like the dead. Groaning, he rolled over into the heat you left behind on the bed, before stilling once more. The granite floor was cold under your bare feet, but you did not care in the slightest. You walked, enchanted, to the window and could not believe your eyes.

The underworld changed completely. The darkness and sky-less above were replaced by thick clouds, moving slowly in the breezeless air. From them heavy snowflakes fell, big, fluffy and beautiful in every way, gently landing on the blighted floor and turning it into a sheet of innocence. The air was crisp and there was no sound echoing through the underworld, which meant you could hear the fall of every snowflake.

Impossible. It couldn't have been. How would the clouds find their way into the underworld?

Fingers brushed your hair back gently, making you flinch at the sudden touch.

"Shhh..." Tao's voice was still rough from sleep, the rusty feeling to his voice very welcoming.

"I'm just braiding your hair."

"Tao, this..."

"Hmm..."

"Is this normal? It didn't happen last winter, nor when I came here."

"This is not normal." Tao concluded, gently entwining the strands of your hair with one another.

"Does it mean it's bad?" his chuckle had you calming down.

"No, it's good. It's a gift, of sorts."

"A gift?" Another hum sounded from behind you.

"From the gods." When you felt that he has finished with the braid, you hoped to turn and face him, but Tao had different plans, his arms winding around your waist and brining you flush against him, his chin hooking over your shoulder. The two of you gazed out your realm and you still struggled to understand what your husband was saying.

As you two silently stood in the window, you caught a glimpse of someone walking towards the snow. Uncertain, unstable steps of someone who had never seen snow before. The child approached apprehensively, but when it realized that the snow posed no danger, it ran back from where it came from, returning with two other children, copying his actions from before. When they saw their friend gathering handfuls of snow and throwing it in the air with an airy giggle, they did not hesitate to join him in the fun.

“A new era awaits the Underworld,” Tao has finally spoken with a soft sigh, as he gently turned you to gaze upon you. Your hands reached up to cradle his face almost naturally by now.

“It does?” you asked with a smile, and your husband nodded.

“It has been a while since the Undertaker had his heart stolen.” A chuckle bubbled from your throat and you shook your head at your husband’s teasing tone. Instead of replying, you had chosen to steal something else as well, your lips pressing against Tao’s plush ones in a soft, yet deep kiss.

If anyone had told you that your life would end prematurely, and you would become the Queen of Undeath, you would’ve run from the lunatic. But now, being held in the arms of your Love, all the pain and suffering you had gone through seemed worth it.

And for the first time in eons, twinkling laughter and the feeling of love spread through the Realm of Death.

[grandschemed]

'i love you' on a sunny tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair

@warpaved​

with brienne as lady of tarth and highly esteemed knight commander, there hasn’t been a dull day in jaime’s life since he left king’s landing and winterfell to run off to the sapphire isle to marry the woman he loved — a feat he still brags about to anybody who’ll listen to him for more than five seconds despite it having been a fortnight since the critical event.  he’s lady brienne’s husband and it is quite possibly his most favorite title to bear as of yet, but time together alone has been rather scarce due to his lady’s many responsibilities.  

so, a sunny afternoon spent walking along tarth’s shore hand-in-hand with brienne is already more than he can ask for.  together, they take their time, strolling the coast with bare feet, toes naked in the warm sand.  he notices she’s wearing the pretty blue dress he had hand-tailored for her with only the finest silk complete with pearl buttons from tarth.  he notices the late sunlight in her blonde hair, shining like pale gold.  he notices the way she squeezes his hand and looks at him like she has something she wants to say and -

“i love you,” she says, out of the blue.

“what?”

brienne glowers immediately, chapped lip curling into a surly sulk.  oh, how he loves that fat-lipped pout, but nothing quite compares to her full, resounding laugh.  “oh, don’t you make me say it again,” she warns, but jaime doesn’t heed it.

“make you say what again?” jaime grins, retorting childishly, happy to play the drunken fool.  it’s all he ever seems to do as of late, but oh, the things he does for love.  sometimes, it’s still hard to believe he’s here with brienne in a better ending than he thinks he deserves, but he vows to spend his remaining years to do better now that his hope has been renewed.  crinkling at the corners, his gaze softens at the sight of her before he returns the squeeze with his own hand, always running dry when it comes to describing the magnitude of what he feels.

“ser jaime,” brienne glares, but it lacks its usual punch.  it’s clear she knows.  she always knows.

without warning, jaime tackles brienne to the sand, catching the narrow of her waist in his arms with a sly grin.  “i love you,” he tenderly answers, alive and drunk on sunlight and love in equal parts, while his gaze meets hers.  with utmost care, he brushes a stray lock of hair from her forehead, lost in the calm of it all before he surges forward to close the distance between their hungry lips, happy to kiss her with reckless abandon.  “i love you,” jaime murmurs into brienne’s mouth like a secret he wants only her to hear even though he would gladly shout it to the world from the tallest mountain in that moment.

just as jaime’s about to lean in again to steal another kiss, a giant wave catches him by surprise as the water crashes over him, leaving him to bear the brunt of the sudden blow and jaime sputters, spitting out sea water like a startled cat.  “damn ocean,” he coughs, shaking out his soaked hair.  “what, you want to challenge me, water?  i’m jaime lannister and i will not let you have my wife!” he shouts across the horizon, “i could fight you with my eyes closed, you bastard!”

brienne, only mildly wet ( thanks to ser jaime ), looks up at her ridiculous husband and bursts out laughing and laughing like she can’t stop.  “stop it,” she says, shaking her head while wiping tears from her eyes, beckoning him towards her with an outstretched hand.  “just stop it.  come here, you look like a drowned rat.”

“a drowned rat?  a drowned rat?” he repeats, trying very hard to act like he’s offended, but her laughter is infectious.  “the sea is trying to steal my wife away from me.  as your ser husband, i cannot possibly allow this to slide.  i’m afraid i have no choice but to fight this gentleman in fair combat to defend my rightfully earned title.”

“ser husband isn’t a title,” brienne shrugs, not apologetic in the slightest, “also, you’ll lose.  the smart coin’s on the other fellow.  although they say the ocean is a woman …”  

“what?”

“a woman,” answers brienne as if this was common knowledge.  the ocean is a woman, the boats are women, castles are women and why is jaime slowly making his way towards her with arms outstretched as if to … “no, ser jaime!  don’t you dare!  jaime!”  

it’s too late for alarmed protests because jaime pounces swiftly, intending to drop her into shallow water, but brienne’ll be damned if she lets him ruin her pretty blue dress like this!

[alicedopey]

Heartless

Here’s my contribution to the 3,5K Celebration Writing Challenge @dangerousvikings co-hosted with @lisinfleur

I picked #24 “It’s okay. I don’t have any feelings left for you to hurt” with Harald.

I hope you’ll like it and be warned, it’s been ages since I’ve written something so it might sucks... Anyway, here it goes.

Title: Heartless

Pairing: King Harald / Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: slight mention of rape.

As long as you could remember, you've always been a slave. You were a servant for a Duke in Wessex when Vikings had raided the place and captured you, amongst many other girls.

From this moment, you were sold numerous times like a simple common object, going from house to house, master to master... Throughout all these years, you've learned a few things the first one being: “You're no one”. It was a sentence you had heard multiple times and you tended to believe it now. Few of your masters and their families called you by your name, you were just “slave” or “you”, even a beckoning of a head or a hand most of the time. You were there to serve and obey. Nothing more, nothing less... so that's what you did. Thoughts and feelings were not welcome so you erased them from your existence. They could insult you, humiliate you, beat you, rape you... you had no reaction anymore. You stood still like a statue until it was over. You had no name, no soul, no heart. Your body was completely disconnected from your mind.

And it helped you in some way. Your masters got tired of you pretty easily since you showed no reaction to their brutal beating or raping. So, after being sold or traded so many times, you had ended up with King Harald... who was different to say the least.

First, he had asked your name after buying you. Then, he had explained your chores and duties: you were assigned to be his personal slave and had to remain next to him most of the time to satisfy his demands and needs. You were even sleeping in a tiny room near his chamber !

At the beginning, you were on your guards assuming that he was trying to seduce you so that you would be willing to warm his bed but he never even tried to touch you inappropriately. He never raised his hand on you either. He didn't shout, didn't insult you, didn't starve you. But he talked. A lot. About everything: his lands, his wars, his brother, his love for a certain Ellisif who had deceived him, his desire to find a wife and have children. And you listened, trying not to care for this King who was kind to you. Harald's closest soldiers liked to tease him about the way he talked to you, calling you “the old couple”; a teasing to which the King smiled while you usually lowered your head, hiding yourself from their gazes.

Soon, Harald ordered a departure to Kattegat, claiming he had a mission to accomplish over there. Before boarding, the King approached you.

“Y/N, take care of my place while I'm gone, will you ?”

You bowed. “Yes, my King.”

And he did something utterly surprising. He stretched out his hand and softly touched your cheek. “Goodbye”. Then, he left.

You were so embarrassed you forgot to answer him. Feeling your cheeks burning up, you closely watched him and his boats shipping away from lands until they were just tiny dark points in the horizon. Shaking your head, you went back to your work trying not to read too much into his gesture.

But, as months went by, the promise was difficult to keep since you couldn't stop thinking about his kind gesture and your dreams were full of him. You couldn't help your mind from wandering, picturing him coming back from his mission, triumphant and smiling, coming close to you, kissing you in the sweetest way, claiming you were to become his Queen. Deep down, you knew it was frivolous and unreasonable to dream this way but it felt nice for once to have some dreams and hopes. So you kept dreaming and took care of his home until one day, you heard the horns announcing his return.

You eagerly ran to the shore to be the first in line to greet him. He came back smiling and triumphant just like you imagined he would...but he was not alone. A pretty dark-haired and blue-eyed woman was at his sides. In fact, he didn't even see you. You went back to his house and heard a feast was to be prepared to celebrate the King's return.

Mechanically executing your tasks, you blamed yourself for being so weak. You had fallen for his tricks and let your feelings show. The only thing he did was talking and silly as you were, you hoped for something else. Something very sharp was suddenly digging into your chest, leaving you almost breathless. You panicked. Whatever it was, you had to repel and fight it to get back to your old self again before the feast began. You tried to calm yourself and took a deep breath before finishing your chores.

Several hours later, you were ready: standing next to your King's throne, masking smile in place to greet him. You listened to the speech he gave to his people, announcing he wanted to become King of Norway with the girl, Astrid by his side without even flinching. You watched him leave to follow this Astrid and come back a few minutes later, still smiling. Only then did he acknowledge you and you froze. He was looking at you with a drunken smile. “Y/N! Didn't see you there ! Sorry I didn't have time to introduce you properly to the new Lady of the house. Hope I didn't hurt your feelings.”

“It's okay. I have no feelings left for you to hurt”. You could have slapped yourself. The comment was way out of line but Harald was so drunk he didn't notice. In fact, he laughed.

“Yes, Y/N the cold, Y/N the heartless....that's what your former master called you before I bought you.” He smiled. “Don't seem so heartless to me.” He touched your cheek  and you gritted your teeth, waiting for him to remove his hand. He did not even notice your state and dropped his hand, changing the subject. “So tell me Y/N...what do you think of my future Queen ?”

You gulped, embarrassed. “This is not my place to comment on such a thing, my King.”

“I'm asking you to.” He replied, a warning in his tone.

You put your masking smile back on. “She is very pretty, my King”.

“She is, isn't she ? She will give me many wonderful children.”

“I'm sure she will, my King.“

He smiled widely, pleased with himself. “You may go, Y/N. Better stay away from us, drunkards. I wouldn't want you to be ruined by one of them....or me.” He winked at you playfully.

The piercing knife was back in your chest and you tried to ignore it, bowing respectfully to your master. “Goodnight, my King.”

You almost ran away from the Hall and your hurried steps led you to the edge of the forest. The pain in your chest made you fall on your knees. The tears you had pushed away since his return were flowing, landing on your trembling hands, which were gripping the ground beneath in angry frustration. As heartless and cold as you were, the thought of seeing Harald marry another woman was killing you inside because....as heartless and cold as you were, you loved him.

Just tagging my girls in case they would like it: @tephi101 @ivarslittlebadgirl @naaladareia @ivarswickedqueen @akamaiden