#warning waring this is not a drill!

[mixedupmojo]

warning to the owl house fandom!!

i just wanted to make people aware that there is a bot going by sassymusicsweets that is stealing peoples stuff and reposting it as their own so if you see it please repot and block

[agentwhiskeysdarlin]

Kinktober Day 4

Cockwarming with Aleksander Morozova (The Darkling)

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova (The Darkling) X F!Reader

Rating: NSFW 18+ (minors dni)

Warings: upset & frustrated reader, slightly insecure reader, Aleks has so many pet names for reader, dom/sub relationship, cockwarming as punishment, semi exhibitionism, smutty times in the map room, hair pulling, p in v sex, rough sex, unprotected sex (you know the drill), the whole exchange when they start having sex (be glad I was nice enough to warn you), mentions of lots of future smutty times

Word Count: 1.7k

Author’s Notes: When I say I LOVE this fic I mean it. I’m not usually that way about my own work but this one was fun and good lord this man. Big thanks for the support so far!! I hope everyone is enjoying the week so far!! Thanks to @clint-aww-no-barton​

kinktober masterlist 

ao3 link

  This was starting to get old, fast. You moved quickly through the halls of the Little Palace, and right through the double onyx doors without so much as a knock. You knew he wouldn’t really care, but you prayed he wasn’t in the middle of anything you could interrupt. You saw his office door was open and there he sat behind his desk. You smiled softly, before walking to the doorway and knocking softly. He looked up and smiled.

  “Hello my darling. Come in,” he had barley glanced at you, and then his eyes were back to the papers scattered across the wooden surface.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” you say softly, even though you still had a bit of anger coursing through you.

  “I have been a bit everywhere today, very busy. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s alright it’s just…” before you could get any further there was a knock on the door to his quarters.

  You swore you were going to scream.

  “Hold on darling.”

  He was up and gone, and you rubbed at your temples as you heard him talking to Ivan at the door. Then he was returning to you.

  “Can we continue this conversation this evening darling? We need to have a council meeting.” He spoke as he threw his kefta on.

  “Sure why not,” the words came out tense and you stood clearly upset.

  “Darling, check your tone.”

  He spoke as if it were a normal every day pleasantry, and something about the way he said it without even looking at you put your back up immediately..

  “I will not check my tone. I’m way past that.”

  “You want to talk back to me again?” His eyebrows raised, serious eyes on you

  The dominating, authoritative tone that normally made you melt into a puddle came out, he stood taller as he stalked to you like a cat. You let out a frustrated groan and pinched the bridge of your nose.

  “Listen, Aleks, I’m sorry I’m just…we haven’t had five minutes alone in weeks and it’s starting to get to me. You can tell people to leave you alone for an evening so we can just…enjoy each other. Yet you won’t.”

  You looked at him finally, putting it all out in the air between the two of you.

  “Things have just been rolling in the direction I have been hoping for years and I don’t want to stop in fear of something going wrong.”

  “I just…I feel like…I don’t know…like you don’t want me anymore.”

  There it was. Your biggest fear that had been eating at you for months now. You felt vulnerable and defeated. Aleksander crossed the rest of the space between you and his fingers brushed at your cheek. You shivered as he directed your face up so your eyes could look into his.

  “You are very wrong, my love. I always want you, every waking minute. I promise you I will make this all up to you very very soon.”

  His lips ghosted against yours before he kissed you with the same hunger he always did. You melted into him, fingers going to the hair at the nape of his neck. You were going to explode if you kept going, so you slowly pulled away. He kissed you once more on the forehead.

  “Let’s go.”

  You gave him a simple nod, feeling only slightly better about the whole ordeal and followed him to the map room for another dreaded meeting.

    The two of you walked into the map room hand in hand. It was still empty, besides the two of you, but this was how Aleksander liked things. He wanted a moment to gather his thoughts before the others joined. He glanced at the map he was laying out and then you felt his eyes on you, watching as you placed a few chairs around the room.

  “I have an idea Princess,” the pet name made you freeze and look up at him.

  His eyes had a glint in them and you felt your stomach flutter, along with other things. You knew that look all too well.

  “What’s the idea Sir?” You spoke to him and you saw his jaw tense slightly, the tick in it making an appearance at what you called him.

  He walked to you, backing you into a wall and you gulped slightly. His fingers brushed at your sides making you shiver.

  “Why don’t you sit in my lap for this meeting?”

  It wasn’t out of character for this to happen during meetings, and the others had grown incredibly used to it.

  “Of course Sir,” you gave him a confused look, at how he presented the idea but something else was spinning in his head and you just didn’t know what.

  Soon you had everything ready to go and Aleksander took a seat in his usual chair. He looked at you with a smirk and patted his lap. You walked to him with your own smirk and turned around to sit yourself in his lap. His hand came out and stopped you for a moment.

  “Hold on Princess.”

  There was something playful in his voice, and you almost looked back at him. In a matter of seconds he had your panties moved aside from under the dress you wore, and was buried to the hilt inside you. It took a moment for your brain to catch up, but when it did you let out a moan.

  “I don’t…” you panted.

  “You remember that tone you had with me earlier? Think of this as punishment. They won’t be able to see a thing but do remember to be quiet and keep those facial expressions neutral Princess.”

  His voice came out, almost mocking and the whole ordeal made you shiver. You wanted to get up and walk right out but you knew better. Just as you were about to say something, the door open and Aleksander shifted. You grabbed onto the edge of the table and bit the inside of your cheek, before smiling as the council started to pour in.

  Soon the meeting was under way and Aleksander spoke about things you couldn’t even focus your mind on. He would shift and move himself, and you were doing everything not to let out a single noise. You were concentrating on keeping your expressions under control, and by the lack of looks your way you must be doing a decent job.

  It felt like the meeting lasted forever, but when everyone rose and started to leave Aleksander held your hips down firmly keeping you in your spot. You watched as the last person left, closing the door behind them and you gulped.

  “Now Princess either I can continue to punish you by making you sit here with me buried in you or I can throw you over this table and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

  “Please Sir please fuck me. I’m sorry about my tone earlier please,” you begged, not even caring how pathetic you sounded.

  “Hmmmmm,” he seemed to think about your answer for a moment, and you squeezed your walls around him.

  That put him on his feet with a groan between gritted teeth. He didn’t let himself fall from you as he stood the two of you up and pushed you over the map room table. His hand came up your back and took a handful of hair and pulled, as the other rested on your hip. He started to pound his hips and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. It was the most glorious feeling in the world and you knew with it being so long since you felt it, you wouldn’t last long.

  “Fuck Aleksander!” You moaned loudly not caring if all of Ravka heard you.

  “That’s it Princess. Let them all know,” he pounded harder.

  He pushed you against the wooden table and railed into you so hard you were shocked the surface didn’t break. You were shaking and pushing away your release, in hopes of making this blissful moment last longer.

  “Let go my love I can tell you’re holding back.”

  You let out a whimper, but you did as you were told and you came hard with a loud moan. Your legs shook, your eyes closed, but Aleksander never slowed. He brought you up with a soft hand to your neck and moved your face forward pressing his forehead against yours. He kept railing into you, his hips never once stopping.

  “Look at me,” the words came off as a hush but you forced your eyes open.

  You were a mess, shaking and whimpering at him, pushing you through your orgasm and never stopping, chasing his own and your potential second one.

  “Can you do it one more time for me?”

  “Yes Sir,” you moaned out.

  “Stay just like this for me I want to watch you fall apart.”

  He kept going and going, keeping you firmly in place as you could feel yourself getting closer to your second high of the afternoon. His thrusts started to grow sloppy and he was losing his grip.

  “Come on Princess. I need you to let go for me one more time.”

  He got faster and harder with a momentum you didn’t think was possible, and you let go with a scream, clutching at him in every single way you could. Everything was him and nothing else mattered, as he stilled and emptied himself inside of you. The two of you shuddered in each other’s arms for a long moment trying to catch your breath, before fingers brushed at your cheek. You forced your eyes open, looking at him.

  “That was incredible,” you whispered softly with a smile.

  He pulled out of you and you let out a hiss before fixing yourself. He helped you up, steadying you on your shaky legs.

  “That it was and I’m far from finished.”

  “Wait what?” You looked at him slightly shocked and interested.

  “I’m canceling everything for the rest of the day and I’m taking you back to our quarters. I’m going to completely tear you apart.”

  You couldn’t even answer just let out a shuddering breath. Aleksander simply chuckled.

  “Oh fuck me,” you spoke under your breath with both nerves and excitement running rampant in your stomach.

  “Oh I plan to, over, and over, and over, and over again,” Aleksander spoke each word getting softer as he backed you into the table.

  You couldn’t stop the smile before he kissed you with a force of a thousand hurricanes. You knew you were in for a very long night but you couldn’t think of anything better.

Taglist:  @all-art-is-quite-useless​ @whatevermonkey​ @whichdirection​ @pascalisthepunkest​ @all-hallows-evie​ @artsymaddie​ @vvpoisonous​ @not-too-tall-for-trick​ @audreyshepbvrn​ @noushbitesback​

[d-andilion]

in perpetuity

another one for @whataboutthebard!

prompt: whump - forced marriage and forbidden love

(geraskier, T, prince!jaskier, knight!geralt, secret relationship, angst, i hurt myself with this one folks, 2.9k, read on ao3)

As a child, Geralt dreamed of becoming a knight. He saw himself atop a noble steed adorned in gleaming steel armor, flying the colors of a great house. His sword would be the bringer of justice, the upholder of order. In the name of his liege, he would protect the innocent and drive out evil from the shadows. He would be a peacekeeper. A hero.

Witchers were not knights. Vesemir spent decades drilling that fact into Geralt’s head. He killed monsters, yes, but his protection extended to whoever paid him. Innocence and wealth rarely came hand in hand. Too often, the lords he had once wished to serve and the knights he’d idolized were the monsters no one could fight, much less a lone Witcher. Still, Geralt did the job he’d been trained for and took contracts for the smallfolk when he could. It was all he had.

When the monsters died out, Geralt and his brethren were left with only their swords. Just steel now. The silver, they buried in the rubble at Kaer Morhen. Witchers were no longer needed, but mutants made good mercenaries. It wasn’t so different, really. Geralt swung his sword for the rich and powerful, and was paid well for his trouble. And when the odd penniless farmer with hungry little mouths to feed offered him shelter to drive off a stray wolf or a few bandits, he did what he could.

Geralt never expected to bear the knighthood the nameless child he once was dreamed of. He didn’t want it, not anymore. Taking orders from spoiled shitheads for a living was grim enough without pretending he deserved a commendation for it. Every knight he’d ever met was a pompous moron who’d never seen a real fight. The last thing Geralt wanted was a place among their ranks.

Then he took a contract from King Arthur Pankratz.

It was an unusual contract. Geralt typically found himself handling border disputes or guarding wares for trade, half a world away from seats of power. He rarely had cause to meet the nobles that employed him, but this one brought him to the steps of Lettenhove Castle. Some sort of epidemic had swept their tiny kingdom the winter prior, crippling their defenses. Geralt and the few hundred others who accepted King Arthur’s contract were to serve as palace guards and city patrol until more citizens could be recruited and trained.

The work was dull but the wage was more than fair and the barracks were far finer than his usual accommodations, so Geralt was happy to sign away twelve months of his service. He even earned himself some extra coin and palace lodgings to help train the new recruits. It was shaping up to be the best year he’d had in half a century.

Prince Julian arrived a few weeks after Geralt did. The king’s youngest spent a few years touring the world after he graduated from the Continent's most prestigious institution, but his father had called him home in the wake of their kingdom’s recent turmoil. 

Geralt didn’t think much of the news. Julian had three older siblings in the palace and Geralt could count the times he’d seen any of them on one hand. The few veteran guards Geralt worked with on training duty were sure the prince would find a way out of the castle as quickly as he’s come, but they warned Geralt to be wary. Prince Julian—Jaskier as he insisted on calling himself—was made of trouble, they said. Better safe than sorry.

The day they met, Geralt didn’t even realize he was speaking to a prince. No one bowed to the fop in a sunny yellow ensemble as he marched onto the training grounds, a lute slung over his back and a crown of dandelions in his hair. No one seemed to blink an eye as he meandered lazily between sparing circles and drill sessions like he belonged there. He wore no gold or jewels, sported no attendants or complement of guards. He looked like a bard if Geralt had ever seen one.

The bard eventually made his way to where Geralt stood supervising his recruits, flashing Geralt a grin that dripped confidence and scanning him up and down with bright blue eyes.

“Now you look interesting,” the bard drawled. “I love the way you stand there and brood.”

“Fuck off, bard,” Geralt replied. There was a choking sound to his left and the guard beside him started to cough vigorously. Geralt shot him a curious glance and turned back to scrutinize his recruits. 

The bard just laughed. “Come on now, I’m sure you have a few stories to tell. I’ll give you one in return if you like.”

“Busy,” Geralt barked.

“What about later, then?” the bard asked. He was close enough now that Geralt could feel the heat of his body along his side. “I’d be happy to find somewhere more… private to chat.”

Geralt was never the most sensitive man, but he knew when he was being propositioned. Credit where it was due, the bard had balls. Geralt leveled him with a stony glare. The bard could certainly have fallen into the vague category of Geralt’s type. Tall with broad shoulders hidden beneath artfully tailored fabric, an undeniably pretty face, eyes that could set him apart in a sea of faces. And he had this spark about him, a fire burning under his skin that made him a beacon Geralt didn’t want to resist.

Geralt hadn’t realized he was about to accept the bard’s offer until much later. Regardless, he never got the chance. A harried palace attendant interrupted whatever little moment had bloomed, panting her way across the courtyard.

“There you are, your royal highness!” she called between harsh gulps of air. “You will be late for the council briefing. We must go at once!”

Prince Jaskier breathed a disappointed sigh. “To be continued,” he muttered for only Geralt to hear. Then he turned on his heel and followed his attendant, to her palpable relief.

Geralt had been sure he would be executed, but no one came for his head that day or any day after. The other guards assured him that Jaskier was unlikely to demand retribution for Geralt’s disrespect. On the contrary, the prince had taken a shine to him. The trouble would come, they warned, when that shine turned into something a little more tangible. The prince didn’t mind sleeping with commoners, but his father was far less forgiving. It simply wasn’t worth the risk.

But Jaskier kept coming back. To the training grounds, to Geralt’s patrol routes, to the canteen where the guards took their meals. At first, his constant chatter was infuriating, but Geralt came to find it almost soothing, a rhythm he could sink into and even find a bit of comfort in. Before long, Jaskier coaxed stories out of Geralt too; about monsters, yes, but about him, about his path as his life. He found himself telling Jaskier more than he’d ever told anyone besides his brothers.

The spoiled, reckless royal Geralt envisioned Jaskier to be disappeared day by day. Jaskier could be impulsive and sometimes even careless, but more than any of that, he was free. His heart flew on a summer breeze and his smile carried pure sunlight. He was warmth given form like nothing Geralt had ever known. Inescapably beautiful. 

Falling into bed together was a terrible idea, and Geralt knew that. By the time he finally gave in, he knew it didn’t matter if he fucked Jaskier or not. It was too late to save anything from breaking. Geralt was already completely, enduringly in love with him.

When Geralt’s contract with the king ended and Jaskier begged him to stay, he didn’t even think about saying no. Where would he go without Jaskier anyway? Who would he be there? How could he fight another bandit or guard another wagon of grain when he knew what it felt like to hold the sun’s fire in his hands without burning?

To stay at Jaskier’s side, Geralt swore himself to his service. A loyal sword to guard the prince’s back and keep his council, in perpetuity. Forever. It was the only vow Geralt had ever made and he intended it to be the last. By the law of the land, a royal sworn sword became a knight the moment his vow left his lips. Geralt’s dream finally came to pass.

His fantasies had never been quite like this.

In one of Lettenhove’s many fine receiving halls, sunlight pours through high stained glass windows onto a sorry scene indeed. Jaskier is slouched in his chair, golden crown crooked atop his head as he glares down from the raised dais he occupies. Geralt stands at Jaskier’s right hand as he always does, trying with limited success to focus on scanning the room for potential threats. The lord kneeling below them, whose name Geralt forgot moments after he heard it, has been droning on for what feels like days.

Knighthood is very little like Geralt’s childish imaginings. There’s no armor or billowing cape to start. Geralt flatly refused to wear them in any context that wasn’t ceremonial. He’s not letting Jaskier be run through by an assassin because his sworn protector was too slow under four stones of armor to save him. When they’re off palace grounds, Geralt wears a better-kept version of his old leather armor. Most days, he dresses in a fine but flexible doublet with his sword at his hip.

There isn’t a great deal of fighting either. Outside of the training grounds, Geralt hasn’t seen a real scrap since before he took his vow nearly three years ago. The vast majority of his days are spent like this: following Jaskier as he goes about his business through the castle, watching his back and offering input on matters when requested. 

As of late, their time has been occupied by more and more lords and ladies of who-fucking-cares, coming to make their bid for the hand of their prince. King Arthur let it be known a few months back that his youngest child would marry by the end of winter. Now the leaves have begun to turn and the castle is filled to the brim with would-be suitors. 

Jaskier has been notoriously hostile to every single one of them, but no one has yet been deterred from trying. The current Lord Whatshisface has been walking them through his entire family tree to illustrate what a strong couple they would make for the better part of the last hour. Even the lord’s own staff look to be flagging; the knight on his left has yawned three times in the space of a few minutes. The lord starts up on a tangent about his sixth cousin’s great-great-grandmother, and that seems to be the limit for Jaskier.

“Fuck’s sake, I can’t take another minute of this,” Jaskier says.

The lord blinks stupidly. “Your royal highness?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so bored in my entire life! Were your born this way or did you have to work at it?”

Geralt contains a snort as the lord begins to flounder, sputtering in place of a reply. Jaskier stands and removes his crown, then drops it in the hands of the nearest servant with none of the delicacy required for a thousand-year-old family heirloom. Geralt follows Jaskier dutifully, a smug grin on his lips, as Jaskier marches down the steps of the dais and out of the receiving room without sparing the lord another glance.

They’re quiet in the halls—too many ears with ulterior motives to speak freely—but the moment they’re back in Jaskier’s rooms, he sprawls over the settee and begins his tirade.

“Can you believe that bumbling idiot?” Jaskier groans while Geralt makes a quick round of the room. He doubts very highly that someone is snooping behind the drapes, but being overly cautious is part of his job description. “I mean, honestly, do you think they breed them to be this dull? Is there a secret storehouse of mind-numbingly boring people with impeccable manners that I don’t know about?”

Geralt doesn’t reply. Jaskier doesn’t really need him to at this stage of ranting. Instead, he pokes his head into each chamber in Jaskier’s rooms as part of his rounds. When he returns to the sitting room, Jaskier has thrown his doublet across the back of the settee and his boots are somehow on opposite sides of the room

“What did you think of that one?” Jaskier asks. Geralt snorts.

“Useless popinjay like all the rest of them.”

Jaskier laughs at that. “At least he kept any miserable excuses for poetry to himself. What was it the last one called me? Lady Whatsername?”

Geralt remembers that exchange all too well despite every attempt to forget it. “‘Julian,’” he recites, “‘my dewy frog in the shining swamp of desire—’”

“Oh dear, that’s quite enough, thank you,” says Jaskier with a face like he’s smelled something awful. “And my father genuinely expects me to marry one of them. Lucky for me, I have no intention whatsoever of going through with it.”

The temperature in the room seems to drop a few degrees. It’s suddenly unbearably quiet, the sort of quiet that starts to scream after a while. They don’t often discuss what King Arthur’s winter deadline means for them. There isn’t much to talk about from Geralt’s perspective. He can’t do anything to stop it. 

Jaskier has made his intention to frighten his suitors away very clear, but his father doesn’t seem to ever run out of options to put in front of him. His only other coping strategy seems to be statements of denial, each one a little less confident than the last. In the spring, his voice was sure and his eyes burned with defiance. Now, with the autumn treeline visible from his window, he makes himself small. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt tries tentatively.

“I won’t do it,” Jaskier snaps shakily without looking up. His hands ball up into white-knuckled fists in his lap. “He can’t force me.”

Geralt takes a deep, slow breath. Inhale. Exhale. “You well know that he can. And if he has to, he will.”

“He can’t!” Jaskier cries into the blaring silence. He makes a sound somewhere between a sob and a snarl as he tries to breathe. “It isn’t… It’s not fair.”

Jaskier looks up at him then, and Geralt wishes he hadn’t. His blue eyes sparkle with unshed tears. He looks helpless, furiously helpless, and there’s nothing Geralt can do about it. The vow Geralt took to protect him is meaningless here. He can’t save Jaskier from this.

Geralt traces the curve of Jaskier’s flushed cheek as gently as he can with his rough, calloused fingers, and Jaskier leans into the touch. Anything Geralt could say feels woefully inadequate right now, so he says nothing.

Jaskier stands, fingers curling tightly into the front of Geralt’s doublet. His eyes search the empty space in front of him for something he can’t seem to find. An answer, a hope, a prayer.

“My great grandfather’s younger sister married a knight,” he says. “There’s precedent.”

“It isn’t the same to them. You know it isn’t,” says Geralt evenly. Most knights hail from noble families. The gaping loophole in their code of fealty is the only reason Geralt is standing here right now. Jaskier’s father would never let him marry a commoner, a Witcher, knight or not.

Jaskier barks a hollow tearful laugh. “So you are good enough to die for me, but not good enough to love me?”

Geralt takes Jaskier’s face with both hands wordlessly and presses a kiss to his forehead. Jaskier trembles under his touch. When Geralt pulls back, Jaskier’s eyes bore into his, and Geralt can see Jaskier’s heart breaking in them, though he still hasn’t shed a tear. His prince, so beautiful, so brave.

“What happens to you, then?” Jaskier asks. “When I’m marching down the aisle with my useless popinjay, where will you be?”

“Guarding your back, the way I always have.”

“And then?”

Geralt brings their foreheads together, his nose brushing Jaskier’s. 

“I swore you an oath of fealty,” he says. “Not the kingdom, not your father, not the gods. You. I’m not proud, Jaskier. I don’t need to be your husband to stay by your side. Whoever you marry, it doesn’t matter. I’m yours. In perpetuity.”

The echo of Geralt’s vow hangs heavily between them. He made it selfishly, as means to dig out a place for himself in Jaskier’s life, but Geralt still meant every word of it then and he means it now. Jaskier’s eyes flutter shut, but Geralt keeps looking. He wants to drink in every detail of what it feels like to hold his prince, his bard, his sun, in his arms.

“We could run away,” Jaskier whispers wistfully.

Geralt knows Jaskier doesn’t mean it. For all his fury and threats, Jaskier loves his family and his people. He would never abandon them, not for anything.

“Alright,” Geralt whispers back. “Where?”

“Anywhere. The coast.”

An image comes to Geralt’s mind. Jaskier, shirt billowing in the ocean breeze, bare feet sinking into the sand. The sunset casts him in shades of gold as he laughs without a care in the world. He is safe. He is happy. He is free.

Geralt closes his eyes on that faraway dream.

“The coast it is.”

~~

w.a.t.b. masterlist

[havenoffandoms]

72 for Geralt/Jaskier?

I meant to post this a lot earlier... sorry about the wait, nonnie. I hope you like it anyway. I'm not sure how it came out in the end after I agonised over this for the past couple of days, but it was fun going back to my Geraskier roots.

Masterlist

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier

Prompt 72: Character A has a secret. Character B does whatever they can to find out what it is. When they find out, they wish they hadn't.

Warnings: brief angsty episode, mention of Geralt's traumatic childhood

Also, I love that art! Holy Shit!? So of course this had to feature before the fic <3

Travelling with Jaskier had its downfalls.

For one, the bard talks a lot. He never stops, not even in his sleep, and that would drive any man insane if you ask Geralt. He listens to Jaskier waffling about poetry all day, every day, he doesn’t have to endure a lecture on the benefits of iambic pentameters when he’s trying to fall asleep, thank you very much. Jaskier also likes to complain about every little thing that causes him discomfort, which when they’re on the path, ranges from fly bites all the way to sore feet. Travelling with a human also means that they travel considerably slower, unless they’re both riding on top of Roach, but Geralt doesn’t like putting his best girl under that kind of strain very often.

For all of Jaskier’s flaws, Geralt would hate to have to separate from his bard. At least, when Jaskier is close by, Geralt can keep an eye on him and make sure Jaskier doesn’t get himself into any unnecessary trouble. Having Jaskier travel with him gives Geralt peace of mind. He appreciates the singing as well, even if he could stand to tell Jaskier this a bit more often. Geralt deems that his bard’s ego is plenty inflated without Geralt making it worse. Not to mention that life always seems a little bit brighter when Jaskier is around, and the nights are a little less lonely as Geralt gets to pull his bard close and fall asleep to the sound of his beating heart. Knowing that Jaskier is safe is the only thing that lets Geralt sleep peacefully at night.

You’d think that after nearly two decades of knowing his bard, Geralt would have figured out Jaskier’s secret by now. Geralt is, of course, referring to Jaskier’s near supernatural ability to always come up with coin when he and Geralt need it most urgently. Geralt has no idea how the bard does it - his songs are popular, granted, and on a good night Jaskier makes enough to buy a nice room for the night and the better pieces of meat from the kitchen. Still, being a bard doesn’t pay that well, not even if you were as famous as Jaskier. Just last week, Geralt’s horse and most of his belonging were stolen by bandits, leaving Geralt travelling on foot and too poor to afford to buy a new horse. Two days later, Jaskier came trotting up to their camp atop a gorgeous mare, looking mighty pleased with himself but refusing to tell Geralt how he managed to afford to pay for the horse.

“Would you believe me if I told you I stole her, Geralt, my dear?”

“Not in a million years,” Geralt admitted deadpan, pulling an offended squawk from his songbird.

“Just because I’m a bard you don’t think I can steal a horse?”

“I don’t think you could ever steal a horse because you’re as stealthy as the proverbial bull in the porcelain shop.”

It’s not just the horse, though. Geralt’s armour needed replacing and good armour doesn’’t come cheaply. Geralt doesn’t hire the services of just any blacksmith or armourer to craft his weapons and protective gear. He has his regular suppliers, the ones he always goes back to because he knows that their work is reliable and of the highest quality. And even though these people know Geralt by now, even offer him a friends and family discount on occasion, their wares still come at a hefty price. Geralt, as it turns out, didn’t have the coin to replace his armour for a few months. He desperately needed new boots, though. A new pair of breeches wouldn’t hurt either, and his silver sword broke in half whilst fighting a particularly vicious griffin a few weeks back.

Geralt didn’t even mention all of this to Jaskier. That didn’t stop the bard from going ahead and commissioning a brand new suit of armour, new silver and steel swords, as well as a few casual clothes for Geralt to wear on the warmer summer days. All of this must have cost an arm, a leg and a fucking lung, and yet Jaskier acted like he didn’t just break the bank all for Geralt’s benefit. He didn’t even get anything for himself and that realisation had Geralt feeling slightly embarrassed about the gesture.

“You don’t have to buy me all this stuff, Jask.”

“I know that, dearest,” Jaskier assured him, eyes soft and an easy smile playing on his lips, “but I wanted to. Only the best for you, my sweet witcher.”

The mystery of where Jaskier managed to find the coin to pay for all this remains unsolved, despite Geralt’s questioning. Well, if Jaskier won’t outright tell him, then Geralt will just have to investigate the matter by himself.

"Where the fuck did you get your hand on all the coin to pay for all this?" Geralt asks one evening, blunt and straight to the point. There was probably a kinder and gentler way to ask this, but after spending weeks mulling over Jaskier's sudden new-found fortune, Geralt has lost the little patience he possessed in the matter. Jaskier, on the other hand, looks perfectly unperturbed.

"From the bank," he offers simply as he sprinkles expensive herbs over the hare Geralt caught earlier that evening, "you know, where people deposit their valuables? I know you witchers don't believe in bank accounts, savings and interests, but-"

"Where does the coin come from?" Geralt interrupts, hissing those words through clenched teeth.

"Why, my inheritance."

Geralt stares for a long while. It takes his brain several seconds to catch up to what Jaskier is telling him, and another few seconds to make sense of the words. Inheritance?

"What inheritance?"

"Well, when my father passed away he left me and my siblings a share of his wealth. That's how inheritance works. Say, pass me my satchel my dear, I think I have some more spices in there."

Geralt wordlessly hands Jaskier his satchel, still trying to process this new discovery. Come to think of it, Geralt knows precious little about Jaskier's family. Sure, that's probably on him for never asking, but Geralt has grown so used to Jaskier oversharing every aspect of his life that he never needed to ask his bard anything. Jaskier just… never talked about his family. Or his childhood, or his upbringing. His life story seems to always begin when he was a student at Oxenfurt.

Geralt is growing curiouser by the minute.

"When did your father pass?"

"Oh? Uh… good question. Maybe a few years after I went to Oxenfurt? I'm not sure. I received a letter from the bank notifying me that a share of my father's wealth was deposited in my account."

Geralt frowns. "You never went back to find out what happened?"

"No."

Well, that's an oddly abrupt response, and Jaskier doesn't seem like he's got anything to say on the matter. Which only makes Geralt feel more curious about the whole thing.

"Why not?"

"Geralt…" Jaskier heaves a sigh before putting on a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, too tense to be genuine. "My father and I didn't get along. I felt no need to go mourn him with the rest of my noble family in Lettenhove when he passed. That's it. That's all there's to it. I was not a good enough man to refuse my share of the inheritance, either, despite my non-existent relationship with him."

That's a lot to unpack. Geralt always assumed that Jaskier had a good childhood. Then again, he would think that, wouldn't he, considering Geralt spent his own childhood being tortured by magnanimous and sadistic mages. Where most children got to spend time outside helping out in the fields or playing with their friends, Geralt was put through drill after drill, after drill… until he was physically unable to walk so much his muscles hurt.

"Wait… did you say your noble family?"

"Hm?"

"In Lettenhove… there's nothing in Lettenhove. Only the Viscount and his family live there on a large esta-" Geralt's mouth clicks shut as realisation dawns on him. "Your father was the Viscount of Lettenhove?"

"Yes. And since I'm the oldest, after he died that title passed onto me. But I much prefer being a bard, so I graciously devolved my duties to my younger brother, who now manages the estate. Are we done with this conversation?"

"I didn't mean to make you mad…"

Geralt watches Jaskier stop dead in his tracks, his shoulders briefly tensing at those words, before exhaling loudly through his nose. Jaskier anxiously rubs the back of his neck as he straightens up and offers Geralt a sheepish smile, that one warmer and softer than the previous one.

"Sorry, dear heart. I didn't mean to be so short with you. It's just… well, there's a reason I don't bring up my family all that much."

"Hm." Geralt gently taps the spot next to him on his bedroll, and Jaskier doesn't have to be told twice. Soon, Geralt has one arm wound tightly around Jaskier's shoulders. Not quite a hug, but the intention is there all the same, and Jaskier eagerly melts in the embrace. "I shouldn't have insisted. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise. You did nothing wrong." Jaskier nuzzles the crook of Geralt's neck sweetly before depositing a featherlight kiss just over his pulse point. "Do you want to ask me anything?"

Geralt ponders over that question far too long before whispering an answer in the air pocket between them.

"Did he hurt you?"

Jaskier hesitates.

"Not physically, no. He didn't approve of my aspirations and choices. He didn't support me. I suppose it hurt a little when he didn't see me away to Oxenfurt at the age of 15, but he never raised a hand on me."

"Hm." Good, Geralt thinks. No child should ever have to suffer at the hand of an adult. Geralt earned plenty a beating at Kaer Morhen, some justified and others not so much. Just because he went through this doesn't mean he condones it.

"At least I get to spend his money on someone I love," Jaskier offers softly, eyes as blue as the deepest ocean glancing up at Geralt through dark lashes, “That, at least, the old man can’t take away from me.”

A happy little rumble bubbles up Geralt's chest, despite the blush gracing his cheeks.

"I never thanked you for the gifts." Geralt blushes a deeper shade of red at the realisation. "Sorry. It's been a long year."

"Well, good thing we're heading North soon then, hm?" Jaskier straightens up so he can cradle Geralt's face in his lute-calloused hands. Their eyes meet then, amber seeking out blue, and Geralt thinks that he must be the luckiest son of a bitch in all the Continent.

"Yes," he agrees in a whisper, tilting his face to place a kiss on the inside of Jaskier's wrist, "good thing, indeed."

Request a prompt

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

Rage

Pairing: Derek x Plus Size!Reader

Request: Could I request a reader (plus size) and Derek where she is actually a ware bear and by nature is soft and warm but she has a fight with Erica about Derek and she ends up throwing her out and growling and everyone is like shook looking at her and she goes like "what? She pissed me off." Like nothing happened.

Warning: Some strong language.

You were practically trembling with rage as you glared at the blonde in front of you. Everything was going fine. You were having fun with your friends and then she happened. "Go away Erica." You muttered, trying to contain your anger.

She just looked down at you, a menacing smirk on her face. "Do you really think he's gonna keep you around?"

"Derek and I are friends. Of course he's gonna keep me around." You argued.

"See that's where you're wrong. Sooner or later, he's gonna realise you don't belong here."

"I do belong here though."

She laughed. "Oh please. You're not even a werewolf. You're not part of our pack, you're not part of Scott's. You don't belong anywhere. You're a freaking were-bear, like what the fuck is that?"

"Someone who's gonna kick your ass!" You suddenly yelled, striking her in the nose with your fist and dragging her toward the door. You yanked it open, forcefully throwing her out. You couldn't just stand there anymore and take it as she drilled into you about what you were. Slamming the door behind you, you noticed the whole room was silent. And when you turned round, they were all stood there gawping at you. You just shrugged. "What? She pissed me off."

"You didn't just hear yourself growl at her?" Derek chuckled.

"Guess not."

As you looked at Derek, you noticed a small smile playing at his lips. "Well uh, I didn't know you could put someone in their place like that (y/n), but I gotta say, it was pretty badass."

You smiled proudly, before sitting down with him on the couch. "Thanks."

[n3rdybird]

Healing Touch

Written for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​‘s Hamilton Lyric challenge!  This story went through so many re-writes and changes, god I hope this mangled mess is okay, haha.  My prompt was the line “My name’s been through a lot.  I can take it.”

Vikings

HeahmundxReader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Some blood, talk about Church, self-flagellation etc (referenced, not described in depth) suggestive language, oogling a man of the church (haha)

Gossip was always a funny thing in small villages.  Perhaps you had not been thinking clear when you established your home on the edge of the holy town of Sherborn. Nestled in the woods near a stream, you were both close enough to the town to visit for supplies but far enough away that your arrival stirred up a bit of mystery.

 As an unmarried woman with no known family, you already raised a few brows of the more prominent families.  But it was your talent for herbalism that set most of the tongues wagging.  The smallfolk were more pragmatic towards your skills.  They could overlook your marital status if it meant well-made salves and tonic for their aches and illnesses. With their payments, usually traded goods that you could not make yourself, and the bounty of the forest, you rarely had any need to visit the town marketplace.  Which only furthered the mystique around you.

 When you did grace the town with your presence, most of the townsfolk gave you a wide berth, allowing you to shop in peace.  Even the merchants seemed to deal in your favor, giving you more than was due for your wares.  You heard the rumors.  Half the town believed that you were a cunning woman and would bring misfortune to any who wronged you.  The other half sang your praises, that you were even more skilled than the clergy.

 So it was to your great surprise as you kneeled to rearrange your parcels in your basket that a shadow loomed over you. You glanced upward, schooling your features as you saw the Bishop of Sherborne himself, Heahmund, standing over you.

You nodded your head in greeting before standing, slinging your basket over your shoulder.  The bishop was a popular man, known for his devotion to God as well as to the sword.  And lesser-known, his propensity for women.  Mostly gossip, but living as you had, you knew there was at least a kernel of truth to any rumor.  His handsome face did not help, nor the way his stubble gave him a rakish air.  He was a far cry from the average holy man, fat and week from a sedentary lifestyle.

 “Your Grace,” you greeted and dipped into a shallow curtsey, giving the most powerful man in Sherborne due deference for his position.

 “You know who I am?” he asked.

 “Of course.  One could scarcely live in Sherborne without knowing of its Bishop,” you answered.

 He nodded in agreement, before gesturing for you to walk with him.

 “Please allow me to escort you home if you are finished for the day,” he offered. 

 You had no intention of spending any considerable time with the church official, but you erred on the side of caution and walked in step next to him.

 “I apologize for not making my acquaintance sooner, I meet most of my parishioners on Sundays for mass,” he said, keeping his eyes forward. 

 You hummed noncommittally, but inside, you blanched. Heahmund's statement seemed polite on the surface, but you knew he was angling for an answer to why you had yet to make an appearance in church.  In all honesty, it wasn’t that you weren’t Christian.  You were, in your own way.  It was the idea that one had to go to church to be considered religious that you didn’t agree with.  So you had to pick your words carefully.

 “Well then I am pleased that I’ve had the chance to meet you today,” you said, avoiding the point about the church, focusing on his former words rather than the latter.  Heahmund cut his eyes towards you, clearly noting your evasion.

 “Quite.”  His tone was sharp and you felt as if you failed an unknown test.

 The conversation dwindled to Heahmund telling bits of history about the town or gesturing to points of interest as the two of you left town.  You were glad when you walked past the boundary of Sherborne. You were used to the curious stares when you were alone, but with the Bishop as company, it seemed the gazes were amplified.  The gossip mill would soon be in a frenzy.  The path home took you past the open fields and into the shaded forest along a winding path.

 “Living alone, so far from town, must worry you,” he noted.

 “Why would I be worried?”

 “Well a woman such as yourself, living alone.  You would be far better protected living in town.  Roaming bandits, animals, or even the occasional Viking incursion.”

 “I worry as much as the next, I suppose, but living in town has never appealed to me.  Not to mention it is easier to collect wild plants,” you explained.

 “Yes, I’ve heard of your skills.  Where did you learn?”

 You paused your walk, noticing a crop of comfrey sprouting from the ground.  You knelt in the dirt, brushing the purple buds with your fingertips.  Too young.  You’d have to wait a few more days to harvest.  You stood up, wiping the dirt off your skirt.  You glanced back at Heahmund who had stopped several paces away.  He was watching you closely but looked away as soon as your gaze met his.

 “Family mostly, I’ve never learned formally.  I’ve found that there is much in nature that can help or hurt.  It only takes a practiced hand to know the difference.”

 Heahmund stiffened, his hand resting on his sword.  His gaze turned to stone as he eyed you critically. 

 “And do you only heal?  Or do you hurt?  I admit this meeting was no coincidence.  There have been rumors that reached my ears.  Half the town believes you to be a cunning woman, a witch, and I do not suffer pagans under my watch.”

 You swallowed.  You shouldn’t have disregarded the gut feeling you had the moment he began speaking to you. If the Bishop found any fault in your words, he could kill you now and be firm in his belief that he was in the right in his duty as a man of God.  There was no one around who could come to your aid, not that any would stand against the warrior.

 “Do you deny it?”

 “Perhaps you could tell me which rumors have graced your ears, so I may better defend myself.”  The words you spoke were calm and confident, the complete opposite of how you were feeling. The sounds of the forest melted away and all you could hear was your rapid heartbeat as you tried to control your fear.

 Heahmund tilted his head as if trying to suss out your guilt or innocence.

 “‘Which’ rumors?  You are aware of what people say about you?”

 “My name’s been through a lot.  I can take it.  Women are always subjected to gossip, especially unmarried ones.  I would be a fool to believe otherwise.  I hardly see the point in trying to change someone’s opinion of me.  People do not like to be wrong.”

 “Lord Oswald has claimed that you hold dark influence over his daughter, causing her to act out and defy her father.  And that you placed a curse upon him, causing illness.”

 At the mention of the man, you clenched your fist.  You had first met his daughter when she visited you, draped in a cloak to hide her face. The purple bruise that spread across her cheekbone like a wine stain caused your immediate hatred towards the man she called father.  You may have let out a few choice curse words as you treated the abrasion and consoled the young woman.

 “That man is a pig.  I couldn't care less what he thought of me.  As for his illness, perhaps he should be blaming his poor diet.”

 “Lord Oswald is an upstanding and-”

 “Upstanding?  That man would sell his daughter to the vilest devil on earth if it meant he’d get more power!” You blurted the words out, angry that that man would be considered upstanding.

 “His daughter is his by rights, and as such may marry her to a man of his choosing. That is the duty of daughters,” the Bishop intoned, repeating the words drilled into him by years of church teachings.

 You scoffed at his words, biting back harsh curses.  Duty, you’ve never cared for that word.

 “Duty, what a hollow promise.  Is it not a father’s duty to protect his daughter? And not to lay a hand on her in anger?”

 Heahmund’s face softened at that particular bit of information.

 “Did you place a curse on Oswald?” he asked again, his voice low and stern.

 “I wouldn’t have to.  That man will drink himself into an early grave,” you spat.  You nodded to where his hand was still resting on the pommel of his sword.

 “So what is your judgment?  Is thinking a man worth less than a pile of shit enough to die? Or not congregating with hypocrites on Sunday who profess their goodness only to hit their wives or cheat on their husbands or sleep with clergymen?  Are those my crimes?”

 The last bit of course was aimed at the Bishop.  He was taken aback by your words.  He too knew the hypocrisy of humans, he had seen it firsthand in others and himself.

 “Regardless of any sin committed, man can repent and ask forgiveness.”  It was what he told himself every time he failed in his duty to God.

 “But I am judged by the words of one man, and that’s enough to condemn me?  And what of all the kind words said in my favor? Because they are from the smallfolk they aren’t as important? But as soon as someone with ‘prestige’ speaks horrible lies, you must come running to investigate.  Like a trained hound set out by its masters.”

 Dismissing the warrior bishop, you shook your head.  Rigid, sanctimonious, and arrogant.

 “If you are going to kill me, kill me.  I do not wish to suffer your presence any longer.”

 When Heahmund did not speak but removed his hand from his sword you gave him a terse nod.

 “Enjoy the rest of your day, your Grace.”

 Heahmund watched as you walked away, your skirts swishing behind you.  You had spoken the truth.  He had no interest in you until the upper echelon started their complaints.  He was all but demanded to get to the bottom of it.  As much as your words stung, you were correct. He could have denounced the hearsay as soon as they were spoken, owing to the fact that smallfolk all but revered you.  So he bowed under the demands to keep his place secure.

 You, however, were not what he expected.  Young, unmarried, and striking.  He thought you might be an older widow, with the talk of your skills.  Instead he got you, a fiery, educated young woman, who wasn't afraid of speaking her mind.  It was almost refreshing to have someone not fawn over him.  Yes, you treated him with respect but did not trip over yourself to please him.  You had no problem criticizing him.

 He rubbed the pommel of his sword, worrying the raised designs with his thumb.  You were interesting indeed.

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 After you left the bishop to mull over your words, you had hurried home, half expecting him to come after you and take you in for your supposed crimes. When he did not follow, your steps became shaky and you found yourself stumbling into the small cottage you called home.  You flung the latch closed and leaned against the door, trying to regain your wits.

 You had been accused of crimes, as untrue as they were.  The Bishop himself was sent to investigate.  And you had thrown a tantrum, insulting him and his life.  The next few days you did not venture far from your home, fearing retribution.  You debated leaving your home, going to another area.  But you tired of running away.  As the days passed, you breathed a little easier.  No one had come to take you away, and the smallfolk continued to do business with you.

 After a particularly grueling morning over a cookfire, and setting a poor child’s broken arm, you were exhausted.  With the hot sun overhead, you plucked at your tunic as it stuck to your skin.  A dip in the water would do nicely.

 Gathering your satchel and clad in a lightweight chemise, you began your trek to your preferred bathing spot.  A small bend in the river where the water calmed and you could bathe in relative peace.

 Placing your bag within reach of the water, you glance around before unlacing your chemise, letting it fall to your feet.  The water was cool, refreshing on your overheated skin.  You ducked under the water, brushing your wet locks away from your face.  You wiped the water from your eyes before reaching for your soap to wash away the grime of the morning.

 “Perhaps you are not a witch, but a water nymph from Greek stories,” a familiar voice called out.  You spun and stared gobsmacked at the bishop sitting near the edge of the water.  You bristled at the nerve of him openly staring as you bathed.

 “Shouldn’t a man of the cloth look away when a woman is bathing?” you retorted, wishing for the first time that the water was not so clear.

 “Ah, but you have already judged me a hypocrite, would that not be proving you wrong?” he replied but turned his head away from you.

 You grumbled, a bit irritated that he had thrown your own words back in your face. Making your way to the shore, you all but snatched your chemise with outstretched fingertips, and dressed with haste.

 “Is there something you need, your Grace?” you huffed out, irritated that he had spoiled your bath. You grabbed your satchel, swinging it wildly over your shoulder, hitting his chest with the soft leather.  You immediately dropped your pack in alarm when he hissed in pain.

 “I came to apologize,” he said between clenched teeth.  “Would that be amiable, or would you prefer to hit me with your bag again?”

 The weight of your bag should not have caused him any pain, especially if it caused him to grit his teeth.  You peeled back his tunic and gasped at the sight of several scratches adorning his chest.  Though most were superficial, a few deep welts drug across the expanse of his skin.

 “What on earth happened?”

 Heahmund jerked away from your grip.

 “It’s nothing to worry about," he said, brushing off your concern.

 “I’d ask you not to lie to me.  Take off your shirt.”

 When he didn’t follow your command you rolled your eyes.

 “Lord save me from bullheaded men,” you muttered, reaching for his shirt.

 “You can either take off your shirt, or I will cut it off.  It matters not to me what you choose.”

 Heahmund raised a brow at your demands and pulled his tunic over his head with a grunt of pain.  Kneeling in front of him, you tried to not ogle the Bishop as you took in his wounds.  Most were already scabbed over, others dark with crusted blood.  You curled your lip in dismay.  You traced your fingers over his skin, the newer cuts crossing over old scars.  Some of the deeper gashes were warm to the touch, a sign of infection.  You looked up, his eyes watching your hand as it moved across his chest before looking at you.

 You pulled your hand away, clucking in a scolding manner.  Rifling through your pouch, you pulled out a strip of cloth and some salve.  You dipped the cloth into the cool water, wringing out the excess before blotting at the wounds.

 “You would think someone with your knowledge would know to treat cuts, no matter how trivial,” you said, as you washed the crusted blood away.  “You look like you got in a fight with a cat,” you joked.

 “Thorns actually,” he amended.  When you looked at him confused, he clarified.

 “My self-penance, along with asking for your forgiveness.”

 You paused in your ministrations, horrified at the thought.

 “You believe God would want you to harm yourself to seek forgiveness?”

 “It brings me clarity, to better understand what path God wishes me to take.”

 You shook your head before reaching for the salve.

 “What is there to understand?  God gave us free will, for us to make the choices in our lives.  Maybe making mistakes is part of his plan?” you said softly, applying the paste with deft fingers.

 “I fear I make too many mistakes, stumble too often in my path,” Heahmund confessed.

 “You were right.  About Oswald and the rumors.  His daughter confirmed it in confession.  She was quite worried about you when she heard I came to visit you.”

 You shook your head, sighing.  The last thing you wanted was to cause more trouble for the young girl.

 “I hope you told her she was not at fault.  I can take care of myself.  Please tell her not to worry.”

 He took your hand in his, his calloused fingertips running along yours.  Your hand was calloused, but not from holding a sword.  You had burn scars from hot pots, tiny cuts from mishaps with knives. Your hand that he had accused of witchcraft and misdeeds was the hand that wiped away his blood and applied medicine, something he did not deserve.  A healing hand.

 “Choices and mistakes shape our lives, make us who we are.  My life brought me here, to Sherborne.  As your choices brought you to me.  It was your choice to let, rather than kill or imprison me, something I am grateful for,” you said matter of fact.

 Heahmund laughed.

 “We shall see if that works in my favor.  Provided you didn’t poison me,” he said, nodding towards his chest.

 You rolled your eyes and licked your fingertip, still coated in salve.  Heahmund’s eyebrows jumped in surprise at your action.

 “Well if it were poison, now I would die as well.  So fear not your Grace, you should be on the mend quickly,” you jested with a smile.  Heahmund returned your smile with one of his own.  You felt your stomach flutter at the expression on his face, and the threat of a blush warmed your neck.

 He brought your hand up to his lips and planted a warm slow kiss on the back of your knuckles.  The rough brush of his stubble sent a zip of desire down your spine.  This was dangerous.  This was a mistake in the making.  But you found yourself caring little as you stared into his eyes.

 “Please, allow me to repay you.”

[flowercrown-bard]

Birds Still Sing When They Fall From The Sky

part 1  part 2  belongs to this

i think I should warn you. This is an old!Jaskier fic. Meaning, eventually Jaskier will lose his memory and there won’t be some magic spell to bring it back. He isn’t immortal either, so eventually there will be major character death. Neither happens in this chapter (it won’t happen for like 6 more chapters probably).

On the bright side, this story isn’t heavily plot-based, so if at any time you want to stop reading, you won’t be missing any big revelations or something. I will give content warnings when we get to the heavy stuff, but be warned that it will come to that eventually.

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It should have been strange. Sitting in a tavern simply because he wanted to and not because he needed to look for the next contract. It should be strange, unsettling even. It hadn’t been for a long time. Though it took weeks getting used to, Geralt came here with Jaskier time and time again, for the sole reason of enjoying themselves.

It should have been strange. A witcher and a bard – travelling no more, but collecting sea shells on their window sills, taking walks along the shore, hand in hand and without the pressure of knowing they’d have to leave soon, going to taverns like normal people did. Geralt was never going to be normal and as far as he was concerned, Jaskier was as far from ordinary as it could get. And yet. There was something beautiful, something soft in the simplicity of the life they were building here.

There was something so fiercely right about the way people referred to Geralt as “that lovely man’s beloved” instead of as a witcher.

Still, Geralt couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over the patrons, couldn’t keep himself from straining his ears. Even Jaskier’s arm around his waist wasn’t enough to counter decades of training and drilling instincts into him. As much as Geralt wanted to only feel Jaskier next to him, only hear his voice, whispering sweet nothings that were everything to him into his ear, he couldn’t help but pick up what he was trained to hear amidst the laughter of the crowd.

“It’s true, there is no way for me to bring my wares over to Blackrocks.” The voice was relatively new in town. A travelling merchant, probably. Though he forced his words to sound frustrated rather than scared, the hidden emotion was obvious to Geralt. Too often had he met people desperate to hide their fear. “Ol’ Olek – may his soul find rest in Melitele’s amble bosom – tried weeks ago and I’m not stupid enough to follow in his steps. Bandits and the occasional arsehole tollkeeper I can handle. But a griffin? I’d rather sit on a scorpion bare-arsed than coming across one of those.”

Immediately, Geralt tensed, but willed himself to remain seated. Years of being low on coin and desperate for any contract he could get were hard to shake off. He forced himself to relax. He didn’t need a contract. He didn’t. His place was with Jaskier. He didn’t need to go. He couldn’t do that to Jaskier, to them.

“Are you alright, love?”

Geralt closed his eyes when Jaskier’s concerned voice interrupted his desperate thoughts. As it should. Jaskier was what mattered most. He should always be at the forefront of Geralt’s mind. Not some merchant whose livelihood was threatened because of a monster that Geralt was trained to slay.

Geralt managed a grunt, not confirmation, merely acknowledgement of Jaskier’s words.

“Oh, dearest.” Jaskier twisted in his arms to face him, laying one hand on Geralt’s cheek and softly guiding him to look at Jaskier. “Ah,” he said after a moment, a tiny smile playing on his lips. “I know that face.”

Geralt let out a long breath, surrendering to his fate as Jaskier continued to study him as if he were a child’s poem, easy to read and easier yet to analyse.

“That is the face you make when you tell me ‘no’ before I even told you what I want.”

Geralt’s lips twitched. “Because most of the time I already know what you want.”

“Which is?” Jaskier lifted his chin in playful defiance.

“To come with me on a hunt.”

Jaskier laughed, freely and loudly and oh so beautifully. “Is there a hunt to accompany you on?” He asked as though they hadn’t talked about this before. As though Jaskier’s admission that he wouldn’t be able to go on hunts with Geralt any more hadn’t already broken his heart. As though the promise of a quiet life together hadn’t mended it faster than any spell had been able to heal his wounds before.

“No. There isn’t one.”

Jaskier cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. A few heartbeats passed and Geralt held his breath praying that Jaskier wouldn’t see, that he wouldn’t know –

“Geralt,” he finally said in a tone that suggested Geralt was a student who had been caught sneaking alcohol into the classroom without sharing it with the teacher. “May I remind you of how often I have seen you react to mentions of monsters near-by? The fact that I couldn’t hear whoever was talking doesn’t change a thing – it never has, whether it’s me being old or you having superhuman hearing. I know you.” His thumb brushed over Geralt’s cheek and his tone became fond once more. “So, what is it?”

“Griffin.” Geralt forced his eyes to let Jaskier in, needing him to understand. “I am not going.”

Jaskier’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a new one. Isn’t it normally ‘you are not going’?”

“What we have isn’t normal.” It’s so much better. It’s too precious and fragile to worth risking.

Jaskier sighed, his hand falling from Geralt’s face and dropping down to his chest, coming to rest on his heart.

“No, it’s not,” Jaskier said and undoubtedly he could feel the skip in Geralt’s chest as the relief of Jaskier’s agreement seeped through him. “But that doesn’t mean you have to give up your old life for me completely.” A sly smile stole onto Jaskier’s face and there was something in his eyes that Geralt couldn’t begin to name. “My eyes might not be the best and whatnot, but I assure you, my mind and memory are still sharp as ever. You might pretend it didn’t happen, but I very vividly remember having this talk before.”

Geralt’s shoulders sagged. “I know.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier said softly, filled with a heart-shattering amount of fondness. “We both know you can’t just sit around doing nothing forever. Spending every day with you being idle was wonderful, but it is not who you are.”

“It’s who I could be.”

Jaskier didn’t answer. His look, tilted head and eyes so knowing said more than even a poet could express with words. Geralt might have that face he always made when he was going to deny Jaskier his request – his scary face, as Jaskier so fondly and teasingly called it -  but Jaskier had this one expression, the one he would always use shortly before Geralt would relent and grant Jaskier his wish. Who was he to deny a bard in need of inspiration to come with him? And who was he to deny the man he loved and who so desperately needed to feel like he didn’t stop Geralt from being himself to give him that freedom to leave him?

“I will come back to you,” Geralt said and the smile Jaskier gifted him was almost worth the clenching of his heart at the thought of leaving him behind, however briefly.

“Of course you will.”

“Blackrocks isn’t far. Only three days on horseback. Two if I’m fast.”

“Don’t be.” There was an inexplicable strain to Jaskier’s word, an edge that didn’t cut, as his hand gripped Geralt’s shirt tighter. “Don’t be fast. Don’t rush. Don’t let the world pass by in a flurry. Take your time.”

“I don’t want to keep you waiting.”

“And I don’t want you to miss out all the details.” His tone was back to teasing, but the unknown weight was still there. An unspoken need that Geralt wasn’t sure he’d ever be allowed to understand. “You do know that I will pester you for the grand tale of your adventure, don’t you?”

Geralt’s mouth quirked up involuntarily. “Naturally.”

Jaskier pointed a finger at him. “I am being serious about the details. Don’t just tell me about the griffin. I need to know about how the people you helped looked at you when they realise that they are safe now. I need you to stop and notice the different shades of the sky at dawn and the smell of the wildflowers. Try to find strange shapes in the clouds for me, will you? Promise me, you will see all of that.”

Something in Geralt’s throat grew tight. He gently took Jaskier’s hand that was still pointing at him and held it close. “You’d be far better at describing those things.”

“I don’t need you to describe them like a poet would. Just… see them. Can you do that for me?” Desperation coloured his voice that Geralt vowed to himself he would do anything he could to banish from Jaskier’s life.

“I can.” His voice, barely a whisper grew stronger. “I will.”

How could he not? To Jaskier, the world was so big and bright and beautiful. Geralt would not stand between Jaskier and this beauty that he deserved to breathe in with every inhale and feel with every heartbeat. Jaskier might be unable to leave, confided to the coast like the mermaid in his story was to the sea. Every step father from home would pain him, but staying in his confide unable to know what he was missing would hurt his soul just as much. Geralt would not subject him to this fate. He would do his best to make Jaskier see the world, even if it meant learning how to paint pictures with words instead of showing it to him first hand.

He lifted Jaskier’s hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against his fingers, a silent vow.

Jaskier understood. He always did. His eyes brightened and his smile grew warmer. The look he gifted Geralt with was so tender it almost hurt and Geralt knew what he had started to learn years ago; that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to see that look on Jaskier’s face.

Jaskier needed him to be himself and do what he did. Geralt still needed to help people. And Jaskier still needed stories. almost as much as he needed arms to hold him close and whispers telling him that there was nothing as important as him.

He gently gave Jaskier’s fingers a squeeze and stood up to talk to the merchant.  

---

“The sunrise was more pink on the third day than on any other day. It was… the colour looked like that one doublet of yours. The one you wore on midsummer in White Orchard.” The words were awkward and nowhere close to the vivid descriptions Jaskier no doubt would have found, but Jaskier’s eager eyes were worth it. The familiar scratching of a quill on parchment accompanied Geralt’s words, lulling him into a sense of comfort. “When I told the people I had slain the griffin, one woman cried and the merchant looked like Bieberfeld did when he had realised that Dudu actually knew what he was doing with his money.”

A grin spread across Jaskier’s face at the memory. “Who would have thought. You do know how to tell a story after all.”

“I am sure you will find better words for it when you make it into a song.”

Jaskier tilted his head and gave his notes a long look, before setting his eyes back on Geralt. “No. I think I quite like the words as they are.”

He lay the quill to the side. Ink-stained fingers of parchment-skinned hands found Geralt’s hand. “Thank you, love.”

Warmth blossomed in Geralt’s chest as he looked at their intertwined fingers. Maybe this was good enough. Maybe life could continue to be like this. Maybe it could be that simple.

----

Against all odds, against all the rocks destiny was known to throw in his way, it truly was that simple. Despite everything, Geralt was allowed to have this.

He continued to bring Jaskier stories and Jaskier in turn would tell him what he had done while Geralt had been away. Somehow he managed to make the most mundane things sound like the biggest adventure. The knowledge that this was the life that they had, that when he returned from his hunts, they could experience these ordinary, domestic adventures together, made Geralt’s heart swell in his chest.

He brought Jaskier descriptions of the sky and Jaskier told him about the unruly sea.

When Geralt finally made true on his promise to go to the harvest festival in Corvo Bianco, he brought Jaskier a bottle of wine and a summer jacket and Jaskier in turn gifted him with the sight of immediately donning the garment and grinning at him with a flush that the alcohol was only partly to blame for.

“What do you think?” Jaskier asked, twirling around as much as his joints allowed him to.

I think I never want to give up what we have here. I think you are gifting me with the best life. “You look good.”

“Good?” Jaskier huffed. “Come on, Geralt. I taught you better than that. You were doing so well describing the world to me.”

Geralt sighed, but it held no annoyance. “I think…you look like you could make the flowers jealous.”

Jaskier threw his head back laughing and if Geralt were a poet, he would have thought that somewhere out there, a rose was seething with envy that she would never be able to give a lover the same indescribable feeling that Jaskier’s laugh gave Geralt.

[imaginepirates]

Wanted

For @myleghasfallenasleep, who requested that I write about a non-binary pirate! reader. The reader ends up taking James into their crew after Jack leaves him with them. Because this is my first time writing a nb character, please tell me if I’ve provided accurate representation. If not, please bring it to my attention.

~3500 words

@emdrabbles @tesserphantom @paljonkaikenlaista @viper-official @wordsinwinters​

~~~~~~~

          Ah Jack, you mused. Always dumping your problems on me. You’d been a friend to Jack Sparrow for years, and though you were fond of him, he never failed to dump things on you. Currently, he was leaving you with a drunken addition to your crew. You wouldn’t have minded, but as it sat, you had your suspicions about this man.

          “If I recall correctly, you’re in desperate need of men right now.” You stood with your arms crossed, staring at Jack from across your desk.

          “Not as desperate as this, lass.”

          “Why? He’s a drunk, sure, but so are you.”

          “He vomits everywhere he walks.”

          “I seem to recall you doing that on several occasions.”

          Jack grimaced. “I hoped you’d forgotten that.

          “Don’t change the subject.”

          “Fine. Bad blood. Used to be in the navy.” Jack made a face, sticking his tongue out.

          “Don’t see what difference that makes. Loads of pirates come from the navy. Do you know how bad their wages are? If they were looking for money, though, I don’t know why they’d go to you.”

          Jack pretended to take offence, but you ignored him. You’d only seen the man Jack wanted to dump on you once, when the pair had first boarded your ship. He was tall, with dark hair and piercing eyes, but he stumbled as he walked, and he looked green with sickness.

          “What’s so bad about this man that you need to get rid of him, Jack?” You were deadly serious. Jack got into all sorts of trouble with the wrong type, and you weren’t going to take on some merman, noble’s son, or warlock without knowing about it first. “I’m not getting into trouble on your account Jack. Not this time.”

          “You won’t. I promise.” He flashed you a smile, and you laughed.

          “Words are wind, Jack.”

          Jack sighed. “The problem I have with him is personal. It won’t hurt you to take him for me.”

          “Why not hand him over to Jones?” By now, you knew all about the problems Jack was having with Davy Jones. Serves you right, you thought.

          “I don’t think he’d last that long.” Seeing your unimpressed expression, he continued. “It’s not just me, love. It’s the crew.”

          “And by ‘the crew’, you mean those two you met in Port Royal?”

          “No.”

          “Lately, they’ve been involved in all your issues.” You moved around to the front of the desk, sitting on the edge. “If you won’t tell me, fine. But at least assure me that you’re not leaving me with a curse looming over my head.”

          “None.”

          “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a crew to attend to and a new member to meet.” You swept right past Jack, pushing the double doors to your cabin open wide. The fresh air was welcome in comparison to the stuffy air indoors, and the smell of salt filled the air.

          You were still at port, but you planned to leave before the day was done. Fishers on the docks called the day’s catch, and merchants sold their wares near the wharves. There was the ringing of church bells and the enticing smell of cooked meats, all reminders of the city around you. Some of your crew were carrying out tasks onboard the ship while others were out in the streets. Those in the city would be back soon enough.

          It was easy to spot the newest addition to your crew. He stood out in the crowd. His clothes were shabby, even by pirate’s standards, and he had a way of standing that indicated he was too relaxed for a naval man. Men from the navy didn’t lean casually against railings, they didn’t have beards, and they didn’t smirk. All around, you considered this man a rake.

          You approached him, leaning against the railing beside him. “Do you have a name, sailor?”

          “James,” he said, looking down at you.

          “James what?”

          “Just James.”

          “Well then, just James, welcome to the crew. I expect that as a sailor, you know what you’re doing, and I don’t want any trouble on my ship. If you have a bone to pick, wait ‘till shore leave.”

          “Yes sir.” His voice was mocking, and upon further inspection and some confusion he added, “Ma’am.”

          “Captain, will suffice. I want to see my reflection in this deck by tomorrow morning. I suggest you get to work helping.” You gestured to the crew scrubbing the deck.

          He shoved himself off the rail after taking a last look at you, grabbing a mop and soap from further down the deck. He was the type to start problems, you could tell. You could only hope he wouldn’t.

          In the coming days, you were shocked to find that he was a capable worker. Though he had a tendency to make snarky comments, he did everything that was asked of him. You were glad for it. You didn’t enjoy dealing out punishments, and you didn’t want a reason to do so. James was good at what he did; it seemed he had more years of practice than many of the other men.

          An influencing factor in his behavior was lack of alcohol. You’d taken the rum away from him within the first day and told the crew not to give him any more. James had been surprisingly willing to let the drink go. He’d looked disgusted, but you had a feeling he wasn’t disgusted with you. Disgusted with himself, more like. I would be, too, if I were vomiting everywhere and stumbling around. There was more to it, you could tell. There was a whole story in every man, but this man seemed to contain a story-and-a-half. You’d learn, someday. For now, you had to be content with what Jack had already told you.

           You surveyed the deck one day to find James helping the younger boys tie their knots. James wasn’t quick in the rigging like the children, but he was surefooted, and he was willing to teach the boys from the ropes. He was doing it then, leaned against a railing with a length of rope in hand. He was showing them how to tie it to a rail with a clove hitch. The rope was passed around, and each boy tried it for himself.

          “I see you’re teaching the boys well.” You walked up to him, watching the kids tying their knots. “I’m happy to see it.”

          “Somebody has to do it.”

          “If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d say you’ve done this sort of thing before.”

         “You’re not.”

         Ah. An officer, then? Though his coat was a good indicator of his previous station, it didn’t fit him well, and you figured it might have been stolen. Perhaps not. It would have fit someone who weighed a little more, and you figured that James had lost weight in the time he spent drinking instead of eating. “Would you like to enlighten me? I have a feeling you’re a bit more than ‘just James’.”

          He pushed off the rail. “I wouldn’t, actually.”

          “Forgive my curiosity,” you called after him. “Here, you don’t have to be anyone you don’t want to be.”

          Something sad flashed behind his eyes, and he swallowed. I don’t want to be anybody, he seemed to say.

         You’d heard that often enough. “We’ve all left someone behind us,” you assured him. “Even me.”

        He nodded and walked off, and you couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. He was lost and unsure of what to do with himself. Stuck between who he had been and who he would become.

          Not two weeks later, you found him in the surgeon’s cabin, applying salve to a boy’s back. The green paste stuck to the boy’s skin with an eerie hue, but you knew it treated burns better than anything else.

          “What did I tell you about keeping a shirt on?”

          “I know, it’s hot out, is all.” The boy shifted in his seat, squirming whenever James touched his back.

          “I don’t care how hot it is. A loose shirt is better than nothing. I won’t do this for you again, so don’t rub this off,” James warned.

          The boy took little heed. “I won’t,” he said, slipping off the table and putting on a shirt.

          You were left alone in the room with James. “You really are good with kids.”

          James shrugged.

         “Maybe there’s nothing so bad about you after all. I wondered why Jack dumped you with me; he usually gives me cursed men and witches. The undead, even.” You got no reaction. “You’re not any of those things, so why would he leave you with me?”

          “I’m not wanted.”

          “You are here.” You gestured at a space outside the cabin. “The crew likes you well enough. Especially the boys. You look after them.”

          “Would that I had my own.”

          “Your own?” You briefly wondered if he had children.

          “In the navy. My last voyage, we sailed right into a hurricane. I was… one of the few survivors.”

          “I’m sorry. There’s nothing you can do about a hurricane.”

          “You can avoid sailing into it.” He sounded miserable, voice thick with emotion.

          Could it be? You had a sinking suspicion you knew who the man was. That doesn’t matter now, you reminded yourself. He’s part of my crew, and he hasn’t shown any signs of treachery or ill-will. “Every man has moments they’re not proud of,” you said. He nodded tensely, and you took it as a sign to change the subject.

          “I’ve been meaning to ask,” he began, a few minutes later. “You dress like a man, but you seem more like a woman, if you don’t mind my saying.” He looked thoroughly embarrassed, but he continued. “I tried to discern, earlier, but…. What did you mean by ‘Captain will suffice’?”

          “I meant that I don’t identify with either of those things. I’m not a man, nor am I a woman.” You looked him in the eye, gauging his reaction.

          He looked surprised, but didn’t remark, only nodding. You left it at that, and your conversation went in other directions.

                                                               ~~~~~~~

          The thundering of canons roared across the deck. Pieces of the ship flew off where you were hit, wooden splinters the length of your arm flying in all directions. You were glad to have led your crew in gunnery drills; they might have died without them. You survaid the deck, watching each gunning team load and fire. Smoke clogged the air between ships, but you still had a good view of your opponent.

          A Spanish brig had appeared on the horizon not hours before, a pirate vessel from the Cuban area. You didn’t like fighting other pirates; firstly, it was a better cause to fight the navy; and secondly, pirates were ruthless in a way others were not. You never knew what tricks pirates might use on you, even as a pirate yourself. There was always some curse or new technology that you found yourself facing, putting you at a disadvantage. You didn’t have the luxury of magic aboard your vessel.

          The sails of the ship were a dramatic red, and a dark squid adorned their pirate flag. The ship was beautifully painted, but that was all you could say for it. There was an air of wealth about it that had probably served it well in Spain, though perhaps less well in the Caribbean. Though it might look intimidating and well-styled to a merchantman, it was only a brig, and was thus lightly armed. Brigs were common pirating vessels, but not in the Caribbean. The New World demanded tougher stock.

         You had the advantage of guns, but no fight was to be downplayed. You could have had all the guns in the world, but you’d still be careful about every move you made. There was always room for something to go wrong.

          A cannonball hit the railing next to you, destroying it in a shower of wood. Stop blowing holes in my ship! You hated having to make repairs, but you’d have to, in this case. When you looked out at the deck again, you were glad to see that none of your crew seemed seriously injured. A few had shrapnel stuck in various places, but nobody looked to have stomach or head wounds.

          You boarded the Spanish ship not long after. They’d been ambitious to fight you, and by the look of their rich clothes and shimmering jewelry, they had money. You smiled to yourself through the fighting. You still had to win the deck fight, but you were confident that you would. Then, it would be smooth sailing with a ship loaded down with gold.

         The glint of light on metal shook you from your thoughts, and you raised your sword to block a blow from your side. After dispatching your attacker, you took a look around. It was hard to tell your men from theirs, but you caught a glimpse of James fending off two adversaries. You might have gone to help him, but you were soon caught up in a fight of your own.

          The deck fight didn’t take long; twenty minutes at most. With the fight won, you ordered that the other crew be split between the brigs of both ships for the time being. You wouldn’t keep them as prisoners forever, but you needed to subjugate them for the moment. You met the opposing captain on the deck of his ship.

         The captain looked up at you from his knees, his eyes screaming malice. Lace spilled from the sleeves and collar of his coat, which were the same wine red as his sails. A gold earring hung from one ear, and colored powders adorned his face. You found him almost comical- the stereotype of a wealthy pirate. It was so unrealistic, you couldn’t believe your eyes. Obviously, the man hadn’t known the true lifestyle going in.

          Someone had to remove his sword belt and give it to you; he wouldn’t do it himself. You were half tempted to pitch him overboard for his arrogance. It wasn’t like he had much to be proud of. Sure, he had a beautiful ship, but it’d hardly lasted a half hour against your assault. Your boarding party had made short work of his crew. Those that were left were easily subdued, and you ordered that they be taken to the brigs of both ships.

          You put your first mate in charge of the other ship. You were proud to have a little fleet, no matter how small. The thought made you smile. Eventually, you had the captain sent away too, though you’d have to speak with him later. Just the notion of having to talk with the man dampened your mood. He probably wasn’t the most respectful type.

          Exhaustion took over, not letting you dwell on it. The fight had been fast, but hard, and you were ready for a moment of rest. You climbed the stairs to the helm and sat down by it, barely registering the person sitting next to you. You were asleep within minutes.

          When you woke, you found your head resting on someone’s shoulder. You sat up to find James next to you, an amused smile on his face.

          “I was wondering when you’d wake up,” he teased. “You slept for a while.”

          You blushed, not quite sure how to respond. “Did I wake you up?”           “No, don’t worry. I’ve only been awake a few minutes.”

          You couldn’t tell if he was speaking the truth, but you didn’t press, instead changing the subject. “Are you alright? I hardly saw you during the fight.”

          “I’m fine. And you?”

          “Right as rain.”

          “Your men are enjoying the victory.”

          “Are you?” You asked. “You’re one of them.”

          James stared a moment before answering, turning his away from you and towards the sea.  “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a victory over a ship. Months. Fighting pirates is an odd thing, when you’re one of them. Still, it reminds me of… simpler times.” His lips turned down in a tight frown.

         You laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t dwell on it too much. Come with me, will you? I have a captain to talk to, and I don’t think he’s going to make for amiable conversation.”

          You made your way down to the brig. The captain and his mates were being held in one cell together, the rest of their crew being split between cells. You treated them with every hospitality you could give them, helping treat their wounded and providing them with food and water. This, however, was too little to keep their captain satisfied. Your men had informed you that the captain mocked you for not talking to him. He called it cowardice, apparently. It mattered little and less to you, but you had to speak with him at one point or another. It was only courteous.

          You gave a nod to one of your guards, and the cell door swung open. The captain was ushered out, unshackled. He posed no threat as a single man; even if he tried to attack you, you could easily overpower him. After all, he didn’t have a sword.

          “So, you finally deem me worthy of your attention,” he drawled. His accent was exaggerated enough to make you roll your eyes. He spat, though he had enough sense not to spit towards you. Still, the insult was clear.

          “I attend to my own men before I see to anyone else’s. With my crew taken care of, you have all my attention.” You could already tell the conversation would be riddled with insults, though none of them would be clever.

          “Seeing to your men is admirable,” said the captain, “though I can’t tell with you: you dress like a man, but there’s a little woman to you, too.” He smirked.

          “They are a captain and you will call them such.” James stopped dead in his tracks, reaching out to grab the man’s arm. Though the captain tried to pull away, James’ grip was iron. “Remember your place.”

          Fear flashed across the captain’s face, but only for a moment. “I’m shocked to hear you say that, Commodore. After all, your place has changed so much.”

          Your hand flashed out, striking the man hard across the face.

          “How dare you?” he screeched. “I am a captain!”

          “Not anymore,” you said dryly. “You’re nothing more than I make of you, and now I’m considering turning you into mincemeat. You might consider being more careful with your words. I would have asked for your name, but I don’t think you’re worth knowing. Perhaps more time in the brig will see to your behavior.”

          The Spaniard protested the entire way, but he was quickly shut in with his officers again, and you set a brisk pace back to your cabin. James followed you, and you let him. Once you got to your cabin, you slumped into a chair. You were thoroughly disgusted by your encounter, but you knew it meant nothing. The man was arrogant, that was all. And James was the infamous Commodore that hunted pirates for years.

          That didn’t matter now, either. James was kind to you, and he was good with the crew. His past was just that- his past.

          “You didn’t have to defend me.” You filled a cup with brandy. “I could’ve done it myself.”

          “You shouldn’t have to. And I owe you. You were right, in the surgeon’s cabin; I’m wanted here. I owe you for that, at least. You kept me when nobody else would.”

          “Don’t feel like you owe me anything.”

          He sucked in a breath. “And I’m sorry for not telling you who I was.”

          “I understand,” you said. “It doesn’t make me trust you any less, and it doesn’t make you any less wanted. I can look beyond a man’s past.” You rose from your seat, putting a firm hand on his shoulder.

          “I think I’ll stay with you, if you’ll have me.”

          You were surprised, at first, that he didn’t want to return to his old life. That he didn’t have any ambitions to be the man he used to be. He doesn’t want power, you reminded yourself. He wants company. “Of course.“

          “Thank you.” Hesitantly, he grabbed your hand, lifting it to place a soft kiss to your knuckles.

          For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, cupping his cheeks, you kissed him softly, embarrassed that you would even think of kissing him, let alone do it. He returned the favor sweetly. He kissed you a bit harder, making you squeak.

          “Perhaps you’re just as much of a rascal as I initially thought,” you told him, smiling.

          “Maybe I am.” He wore an infuriating smirk.

          You pushed him away playfully, only to pull him right back. “If you were still wondering, James, you’re wanted here. Thoroughly.”

[brax-was-here]

Scarlet Briar: The Redemption of Ceara - Chapter 3

Written by: Braxxus

Editing by: Arwen Darkblade

Chapter 3: My Name Isn’t Ceara...

Sometimes the past just won’t let go

Scarlet appeared in the Dream, collapsing to the ground. "That was stupid of me. What was I thinking sending her to the Mists like that. I need her. In Tyria." She slowly got to her feet, steadying herself. "I haven't felt this weak since that day I was stabbed on the Breachmaker." She smiled, chuckling to herself. "Actually, that wasn't really me, right Ceara? That was you." She paused, thinking back to that moment she separated herself from Ceara. When she manifested herself for the first time outside of Ceara's mind. She thought Ceara was as good as dead right there on the floor of the command center of the Breachmaker. "What an exciting time that was! Such a defining moment!" she thought back to that day...

The sun shone over Lion's Arch. The people of the city went about their daily lives, merchants peddling their wares, sailors loading and unloading supplies at the docks. A quiet serene day. The Captains Council had been warned ahead of time that Scarlet would attack the city, but they scoffed at the notion, claiming it was just another empty threat. How wrong they would be.

"Playtime's over. Commence the attack!" Scarlet commanded. Aetherblade airships appeared out of nowhere in the sky above the city. They wasted no time opening fire on the unsuspecting populace down below. They're first targets were the asura gates. Destroying them made sure no reinforcements could make a quick entrance into the city. After that, they laid waste to the city center. Scarlet's ground troops invaded from every direction, even from underground. Her newly improved Watchknights spread poison gas, derived from the spores that she collected from the giant plant in Kessex Hills, throughout the city. The gas would kill anyone who breathed it in a matter of hours. Any survivors who were found were killed on sight. Standing on an observation deck at the edge of the Breachmaker, she laughed maniacally as she watched the mayhem unfold below. 

"So, the heroes thought they had found an antitoxin to my spores? My spies served me well in delivering it to me," she said to herself. "This new version is now far more resistant to any cure they can come up with." Once the troops had secured the city, they gave her the signal. 

"It's go time," she said, marching back to the command center. The Breachmaker, the greatest engineering feat she had ever constructed, descended from the sky into Sanctum Harbor, itss giant drill piercing the bedrock below at the exact point where the leyline probe had found the largest nexus in the network. At the control console, Scarlet raced through a sequence of shouted commands while she operated various controls. 

"Magnetic balancers activated. Gyros are active? What about the backup gyros? We don't want to be wobbling when we start up.” 

"Yes Madam! All gyros are online!"

"Check alignment on the bit. It didn't bend when we landed, did it?"

"Bit is reading perfectly straight!"

"Excellent. What are the aether readings around the bit? Are we reading anything from the leyline? 

"Very little energy at current, Madam."

"Hmm, that'll change once we start drilling. All safety locks off? All hands clear? Well it doesn't matter anyway. If you get caught in the gears, serves you right." she said smiling. 

"Everything is green, Madam!"

"Good!" Scarlet pulled a lever on the console. The sound of machinery activating filled the air. The drill slowly started spinning, boring into the earth below the harbor. She walked out to the ledge of the Breachmaker, looking over the ruined city. "This is the moment we've all been waiting for." she thought to herself, a sly smile spreading across her face. Scarlet knew she had to work quickly. She knew the Lionguard and its allies would waste no time launching a counterattack to try to take back the city.  

"Activate defenses. We don't need any unwanted pests on board."

"Right away, Madam!" 

Days went by as the Breachmaker slowly churned its way through the bedrock. Scarlet was getting restless. The wind had shifted and blown the toxic gas out to sea. She knew a counterattack was imminent. 

"Keep all troops on alert," she commanded. "The Lionguard will be coming." She was correct; it wasn't long before the counterattack began. With keen focus and precision, the Lionguard and its allies, led by the dragon slayer, systematically retook the city. Scarlet knew that if they reached the Breachmaker, she would have to fight to the death to see her plan to completion. She had worked too hard to pull this all together and spent too much time to see it unravel now.  

"Madam Scarlet! Intruders on the upper deck!" The heroes had arrived. 

"No! Stop them at all costs!" she shouted. She knew she had no choice but to attack them directly. Armed with her latest tech and weapons, she met them outside the command center. She did all she could to stop them, conjuring holographic clones of herself to fight the group that stood before her and using every trick she had to hold them off until the Breachmaker hit its mark, but it wasn't enough.  The heroes finally overwhelmed her and she had to retreat. Wounded, she managed to fight her way back into the command center, and sealed the door behind her. 

"I've got to finish this...I've got to keep the drill going..." she said to herself as she staggered to the controls. She fell before she could make it. Crawling across the floor, she managed to drag herself into the entrance to the control area, hopefully to block any access to the drill controls. That's when the door busted open. 

"Look at all you heroes. I guess now you'll shackle me in cuffs and haul me off to jail?" she spat. She knew she was done for, she just had to hold them off a little longer. Defiant to the end, she used the last of her arsenal to buy a few more minutes. The dragon slayer managed to shrug off her attacks, and ran Scarlet through. She coughed up blood as she spat her last words at the heroes. Just then the Breachmaker hit the leyline and started shaking. The heroes quickly evacuated, leaving Scarlet behind. As she  lay on the floor gasping for air, she smiled. 

"We had a lot of fun together, Ceara, but it's now time for me to go. I'll miss you dearly, but my work is not done. The Dream awaits! Say hello to everyone in the Mists for me! Ta-ta!" Ceara felt the madness slip from her mind as the leyline energy exploded up through the center of the giant machine. 

"It seemed so long ago." Scarlet smiled, her thoughts returning to the present. "The grand scheme did work out in the end, didn't it Ceara?" she thought, smiling. She had succeeded in her plan to awaken the elder dragon Mordremoth, whom she had come to call her father after learning that the sylvari were his creation. 

Her thoughts briefly turned to the sylvari firstborn Caithe."Your secret is out in the open now, isn't it Caithe?" She knew Caithe held a dark secret that could change the sylvari forever if it was ever revealed, and now Scarlet knew it. Caithe knew that the sylvari were created by Mordremoth, that when he awoke, he would try to exert his will over them and the Pale Tree. She tried to hold that over Caithe, to make her a little pawn, but Caithe was elusive. Scarlet realized quickly that trying to control Caithe would be extremely dangerous and quickly abandoned the notion. 

"Not all plans are meant to be fulfilled." She looked off into the distance, she could feel Mordremoth's presence in the Dream. She knew the Pact Forces of Tyria would mobilize to attack him, to try to slay him at all costs, as they did the elder undead dragon Zhaitan before. She couldn't let that happen...after all, it was he that had awakened her in the Eternal Alchemy. That moment...when she realized who she was...

"Come closer, my child..." a voice boomed from everywhere around Ceara.

"What? Who's there!?"

"I am your creator."

"Creator? I was born from the Pale Tree..."

"And the Pale Tree was born from me...come, young one, let me show you the truth..."

Ceara continued to gaze into the abyss within the Eternal Alchemy. She could hear the dark voice clearly. It stared back at her. The more she looked, the more she could feel it reaching into her mind, reaching into a part of her psyche she didn't know existed. It showed her visions, death, destruction. She felt her own will slipping away as what she saw was taking control.   

Omadd, an older asura, watched as Ceara thrashed about inside the isolation chamber,  seemingly out of control. He had constructed a machine that would let one view the Eternal Alchemy, the very fabric of reality. Days earlier he had asked Ceara if she would like to be his test subject for the machine, of which she delightfully agreed. After all, the Eternal Alchemy was the main subject of her study during her time at Rata Sum. Now she would get a chance to view it first hand. He warned her that it might alter or damage her mind, maybe even kill her. 

"I'm not worried about that. This is the chance of a lifetime!" she said. She climbed into the isolation chamber and laid down on the table. He strapped her down securely. 

"Are you sure about this?" he asked her after placing the headpiece on her. 

"Absolutely!" she quipped excitedly. "It's not everyday you get a chance to study the workings of life itself!" 

"Very well. We're about to begin." he said as he slid the glass lid closed over her. 

"At long last I'm going to see it. I'm going to see the Eternal Alchemy itself," she said, smiling to herself. Omadd exited the machine, making his way over to the control panel. He went through a series of checks to make sure everything was perfect. Once satisfied, he looked over at one of his assistants and gave a small nod. The assistant pushed a button and the machine started up. Energy raced through Ceara's mind. She gritted her teeth as she was thrust into another realm - the Eternal Alchemy. Omadd breathed a heavy sigh. He didn't tell her that his previous two assistants that agreed to try to view the Eternal Alchemy had died. 

She had been inside the machine for roughly 3 days while he kept a steady monitor on her vital signs. Her heart rate kept spiking, her body temperature fluctuated up and down constantly.  Omadd was starting to grow concerned when she finally stopped moving. As he slowly approached the isolation chamber, he could see she was smiling. Suddenly she sat up, breaking the restraints that held her on the table, and crashing through the glass canopy. She was gasping for air, seemingly trying to catch her breath. He ordered one of his assistants to shut down the machine and raced over to her. 

"Careful, there is broken glass everywhere," He warned her. "Don't move until I get the canopy moved out of the way." He cautiously undid the latch and slowly moved the shattered door away from her. He reached up and removed the headpiece from Ceara's face. She opened her eyes, and held up her hands up, looking at them. A look of bewildering amazement on her face. She was laughing, almost hysterically.  

"Ceara? What did you see?" he asked. She stopped laughing and looked at him for a moment. 

"My name... isn't Ceara. My name..." she looked around the lab, and laughed to herself. Omadd's other assistants, looking on from a distance, were obviously cautiously curious about what was happening. "Scarlet. My name....my name is now Scarlet Briar." She turned to him smiling somewhat sinisterly, still seemingly trying to catch her breath. Omadd was apprehensive. 

"Ok...please Scarlet, tell me, what did you see?" 

"Everything," she replied, exasperated by his petty question.

"Kill him quickly," a voice spoke through Scarlet's mind. Omadd never got his answer. 

"My dear mentor, thank you for teaching me everything you know. It was an honor to be your student and your assistant," she said. "But now, as every good student does, I must leave you and travel out into the world and put the knowledge you have so graciously instilled into me to good use for the plans that I have. It seems we sylvari are destined for greater things. To enjoy a world that you're not really a part of anymore." Scarlet left the lab, leaving Omadds and his lab assistants bloody corpses hanging from the ceiling. 

"I have much work to do. It's going to be so much fun!" Scarlet said to herself as she danced lightly off into the night. 

Scarlet smiled at the memory. "Ceara..." Scarlet thought to herself, holding her hand up. A misty ghostly appearance of Ceara appeared in her palm. "You were so resistant to me at first. You fought so hard to maintain control. But in the end, you gave in." She smiled. "And everything turned out ok, didn't it!? Well...except for that little mishap in Lion's Arch where they almost killed you. But we had fun together. Lots and lots of fun." Her laughter echoing through the dead trees. She thought back to the time that Ceara sought out help from the Menders in the Grove. To try to figure out what was happening. It was no use though. "They tried to find me in your head, my dear, and I was right in front of them all along." Scarlet said, smiling to herself. "Hidden from them right out...in...the... open." she said playfully, gently poking at the image of Ceara. 

"These voices...I keep hearing them..." Ceara thought to herself sitting at a work table. It was late at night and she hadn't slept very much over the past few days. "I don't know how much longer I can take this." 

"You will awaken me. And through you, I will rule all." a voice boomed through her head. Ceara whimpered, placing her hands over her ears.

"No...leave me be." 

"You are mine. All of you!" the voice roared. She could feel whatever it was in her mind. She grimaced at the pain, a tear running down her face. 

"Leave me alone, please." Breathing deeply, the pain slowly subsided. "I need help. I'm going to have to return to the Grove. Consult with the Menders there." She grabbed a bag and started packing her things. "I was hoping I would never have to return to that infernal place. Under the watch of Mother every single step of our lives. She's too possessive of us. She should let all sylvari choose their own path in life, not make some preordained fate for them." She closed her eyes, shaking her head. "Most of them can't even comprehend what it means to be free from her yoke. Don't they know there is a whole world out there for us?" She paused for a moment staring at the wall, slightly smiling. "Maybe we can make her see the errors of her ways! Maybe...maybe we can bend her to our will!" She started laughing, then suddenly stopped. She was shaking, breathing heavily. "What...what was that? That wasn't me..." She quickly finished packing her things and ran off heading to the Grove. 

  "Ceara. It's been years since you've left. What brings you back to the Grove?" Mender Deheune said.

"My name ..." She started saying through her teeth, but she cut herself off, shaking her head. She took a deep breath and tried to regain her composure. "I need your help, Mender. For months I've been plagued with terrible nightmares. A voice calls to me, torments me no matter how much I run. I see visions...death, torment, destruction." she closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. "In my waking hours I hear it in the trees, on the wind...in my mind. I can't escape it. Sometimes I think it's just that I've been working too much, pushing myself beyond my limits." 

"You always were one to work non stop until you were literally falling over asleep once you latched onto something, if I remember correctly." He went over to a table and started mixing something together in a cup. 

"Well, yes. It's what I do. 

"The search for knowledge never ends, does it."

"Never. I want to learn as much as I can." 

"But sleep deprivation can and will kill you if you aren't careful." He finished what he was doing and walked back over to her. "Now let me check..." He went to reach up to her face, but she smacked his hands away. 

"DO NOT LET HIM TOUCH YOU," a voice roared in her head. Ceara was on the verge of panic.

"

I...I'm sorry. I just..." she stammered. 

"It's ok," the mender said. "Just...calm down. You're safe here. I'm not going to touch you. Just be still." He leaned in and looked at her eyes.

"But he isn't safe...if he reaches for you again, make him pay...messily."

"Hmm...we'll have to do some testing. You'll have to stay here for awhile."

"How long, Mender? I have important work that needs to be done." she asked, rather agitated. 

"Until we can find out what is going on. But first you need to get some rest. Here, drink this. It'll help you sleep." She took the cup from him. The drink gave off a sweet aroma that filled the air. 

"The menders cannot help you. No one can help you. You belong to him."

"Stop talking!" she said angrily. 

"Excuse me?" the mender asked, turning towards her. Ceara looked up at him, stunned. 

"It's...it's nothing. I'm sorry." She brought a hand up covering her face, rubbing her eyes. She paused before drinking the elixir, knowing what waited for her during her sleeping hours. She took a deep breath and downed it. 

"Pale mother!" her face turned sour. She was almost gagging. 

"No good medicine ever tasted nice," Deheune said, kindly. "Now get some rest. We'll continue in the morning."  She laid down, waiting for the nightmares to start anew.

Ceara found herself a grassy plain, the air thick with the sounds of battle. In the distance she could see people fighting. She started running towards it, but the more she ran, the farther away it seemed to be. Suddenly the ground before erupted, knocking her to the ground. Long spindly vines seemed to come from everywhere, twisting and snaking their way through the air.  Quickly they formed into some kind of creatures, plant creatures the likes of which she had never seen before. They had her surrounded. The creatures in front of her parted, and another walked up to her. Brandishing a blade, this one was different from the rest. 

"My master commands..." it said in a gruff voice, raising it's blade. Ceara raised her arms to shield her face as she felt the blade slice her open from shoulder to waist. She screamed in agony. The group turned and departed, seemingly going off to the battle. As she lay on the ground, gasping for air, she felt something in her wound. Looking down, she saw vines starting to grow from her. Slowly at first, then more quickly. They all seemed to turn towards her, hanging in the air for a few moments before forming flower buds on the end. They blossomed open and formed into her own face. 

Ceara stared wide eyed. The flowers all smiled in unison. "You see, my dear. The more you resist, the more painful it will be." The mouth of the closest to her face folded back and revealed a monstrous visage, a face she had ever seen before.

"SUBMIT TO ME!" a voice boomed through her head as the others laughed hysterically, the laughter echoing all around her. The creature reared up and lunged at her. 

Ceara awoke screaming. She jumped out of the bed and raced from the mender's abode. Panting, she tried to catch her breath, as she looked around the area. Citizens of the Grove moved about, going about their lives, no one really paying any attention to her. Deheune came running up. 

"Ceara? What is it? What's wrong?" She looked at him, her eyes wide. 

"It...it was a nightmare...again..." she said, bringing her hands up, covering her face. 

"Come, let's go back inside." He put his arm around her shoulders, which she instinctively shrugged off. 

"If he touches you again...kill him...remember...?" a voice said in her mind. She closed her eyes and tried to focus away from the voice.  Sitting down on the end of the bed, she buried her face in her hands.  

"Tell me what happened?" he asked. She explained to him what happened in the nightmare. 

"Hmm. I'll consult with the Mother Tree. You stay here and try to relax. I know it's not much, but keeping calm is the best thing you can do right now." He left the building. Ceara closed her eyes and breathed deeply

"Relax? I wish I could." She walked out of the menders home and looked around the Grove. She was in the lower part where many of the sylvari lived. Large pools of the clearest water covered the ground. She walked over to the nearest pool and looked at her reflection. A tired weary face looked back at her. 

"I look terrible" she thought. She knelt down and splashed water on her face. Clearing the water from her eyes, she noticed her reflection staring back at her, smiling menacingly. Ceara jumped back from the pool. 

"Excuse me?" a voice spoke from behind her. She turned suddenly. A female sylvari was standing there dressed in a bright colorful outfit. "You look distraught. Is everything ok?"

"I'm...I'm fine." Ceara replied looking away. 

"Is there something I can help you with?" the sylvari asked somewhat sheepishly. 

"Sadly, no, you can't," Ceara replied, seemingly agitated. She walked back into the Menders house. 

Deheune returned a few hours later. "Mother Tree suggests we try a meditation. Entering the Dream and try to confront the nightmare that haunts you."

"Rubbish! Mother will just try to throw her yoke on me once again. I cut that rope years ago. I don't need her to "guide me", to give me some predestined fate. We need to live our own lives. Not the one she imagines for us."

"No, Ceara. that's not it at all. Just...just try. It may help."

She gritted her teeth. She kept getting agitated with every mention of her birth name. Shaking her head she stated "Mender, I can't." She stormed out of his home. 

  Ceara spent the night wandering the Grove. the Nightblooms, sylvari born during the cycle of night were out and about, as well as the Wardens and others who were charged with protecting the Grove. Her mind wandered, wondering if she'll ever be ok. Nothing the mender seemed to be doing was working. His last suggestion was to enter the Dream, a suggestion she scoffed at. Entering the Dream would mean allowing the Mother Tree to attach her yoke again. She wasn't going to allow that. She paused looking up at the great tree. 

"Mother, why must you keep your people on a leash. Let them live their lives. sylvari are destined for greatness. Let them thrive and spread across Tyria, and turn it into a paradise." She slightly smiled. "Peace under the rule of...." She stopped. That wasn't her thinking. "That thing...it's..." she took a deep breath and headed back to the menders home. 

Hours later, Ceara found herself sitting on the floor, legs crossed staring at Deheune. 

"Close your eyes and breath deep and open yourself to the Dream. I'll be with you." he said. She was very apprehensive at first, simply staring at him. He looked at her slightly frustrated. "We aren't going to see if this will help if you're unwilling to try, Ceara." Ceara sighed, resigning herself to opening her mind to the Dream. 

Ceara found herself standing in a forest path. The air was cool and still and deathly silent. The only sound was herself breathing. She looked down at her hands, her skin pale and ashen. Her heart was racing and she felt like she was on the edge of panic. 

"Calm down, calm down, calm down." She told herself, breathing deeply. "It'll be ok." 

"Oh will it now," she heard behind her. Turning suddenly she paused stunned. Standing behind her was herself, only her skin was her normal pale green. "Tell me now, how is it going ok?" the other asked smiling. 

"You...you aren't real. This...this is a dream..."

"Oh is it? Then let's dance, shall we?" the other said, holding her hand up, small vines adorned with thorns grew from her palms towards Ceara. 

"No!" Ceara started running along the path. A cackling laughter echoed through the forest. 

"YOU CAN'T RUN FOREVER," a voice boomed through her head. Ceara covered her ears as she ran. The ground beneath her feet seemed to change and move. Looking around, she wasn't in the forest anymore, the very trees and vegetation seemed to be moving. She heard a low growl on the wind. 

"You belong to me. You will do my bidding," a deep voice growled. It was the voice from the Eternal Alchemy. "Now go!" The ground seemed to shift and roll. She lost her footing and fell. The ground below her was approaching fast. It seemed to distort and twist becoming a version of her own face, smiling at her as she fell. As it neared, the mouth opened.

Ceara screamed. The mender snapped out of the Dream to find Ceara balled up on the floor, shaking. 

"It's coming to get me... I can't stop it... No one can stop..."The mender held her as she rambled on for minutes about something that was chasing her. 

Ceara fought to stay awake the following night, but the exhaustion of fighting whatever it was in her mind was wearing on her. Drifting off to sleep, she found herself in a rocky cavern, with beams of ethereal energy weaving their way through the darkness. 

"What is this?" she asked herself. She reached up to touch one of them, placing her hand in the path. Very warm to the touch, she felt energy hum through her body. Then a maddening cackle echoed through the cavern, morphing into a low deep growling laughter. She jumped back, scanning the area.

"What are you doing here sleeping? You have work that needs to be done. Those ley lines are going to find themselves, you know?" 

"Who's there!?" She asked snapping awake, jumping out of the chair scanning the room. 

"Don't you know? I'm you. I've always been you, you just didn't realize it. Aren't you happy? Because if you aren't, you will be soon." It was herself talking, but it wasn't her. 

"What's going on? What's wrong with me?" she whined. Scared, she balled herself up on the chair, frozen in terror. 

"Oh, don't you worry. You'll be fine. We're going to have a lot of fun, you and I." She laughed. "We should leave in the morning. We have an energy network to search for." Ceara whimpered, terrified, alone.

. 

Scarlet snapped back to the present, her face turned sour. The ghostly image of Ceara she had conjured dissipated into mist. "Thorns..." she cursed herself under her breath. "I wasted too much energy opening that rift to the Mists." She looked around at the surrounding area. Cold, dead foliage was everywhere. Her very essence had siphoned any life from everything near her. She could feel the energy of the Dream slowly restoring her strength. "So much raw power here. " she said looking at her hands. " I could stay here and draw it all in, but it would take too much time. I'll need to cultivate as much chaos magic as I can once again." She smiled slyly. "More power...in that wretched desert." She raised her hand up, conjuring the image of ley energy in the air around it. She thought about the cavern in the cliffs of the Maguuma Wastes.

"Look at that. It's beautiful." The hum of the leyline filled the cavern. "This stream of leyline energy will be perfect to study. I'll need to secure a place for my equipment and that little town nearby is just the spot to do it." Ceara said playfully. "It's out of the way enough from the rest of the world that no one will know what's going on."

"And if they do, you make them see the error of their ways." she heard in her mind. Ceara turned suddenly scanning the cavern. No one was there. She laughed to herself.  "Who else would be here?" she said playfully. "Oh that's right. NO ONE BUT ME!!"  Her voice echoed off the cavern walls. She took a deep breath and left the cavern, eager to return with her equipment. 

The town of Prosperity was a small secluded place located in the desert region of the Maguuma Wastes. The town relied on traveling traders to survive, with most of the residents working in the local mine. Using gold she had taken from Omadd after his death, Ceara secured residency in a small room on the edge of the town. Over the course of the next few days she would transport the equipment she needed to study the leyline. 

"It seems I miscalculated..." she sighed. She had stuffed so much equipment and boxes into the little room that she barely had space for herself. "This simply will not do." Turning her head sideways, looking through the door at the mass that filled her living space. "Well, once I get things set up in the cavern, some space will be made...I hope."

"You don't have time to sleep," a voice spoke in her mind. Ceara gritted her teeth. 

"Leave me alone..."

"I can't do that, dear. I'll be with you always. I'm a part of you. I always have been." Ceara closed her eyes and tried to focus. 

"Then at least shut up so I can work." She heard a distance cackle in her mind. Sighing, she started unpacking boxes. 

Days went by as the townsfolk watched this seemingly antisocial sylvari unpack, move equipment, assemble, disassemble, assemble again, move some more. They tried to talk to her a few times, but was always met with agitation and cold shoulders. 

"That certainly is a lot of fancy looking equipment for one lone plant." one of the townsfolk said to another as they stood near a well, watching Ceara move about. "She's been going non stop since she got here. I don't think she's slept a lick, Poor girls gonna work herself to death." Ceara paused for a moment when she noticed the group watching her. 

"Don't you people have better things to do than standing around gawking?" she asked lowly narrowing her eyes. She quickly turned back to getting things ready. That's when she noticed something odd about the far wall in her room. It looked like it had been shifted at one point in time and there was a small gap at the top.  She gathered some crates and stood on them and tried to peer through the opening. 

"A cave? maybe?" She jumped down and searched about for something she could smash the wall with. "Briars! Where is it!?" she cursed at herself digging through boxes. 

"AH-HA! Found it!" she said seemingly happy. The oddly shaped device was a weapon she was developing while she was under Omadds tutelage. A concussion field emitter that would knock things down or away. She had planned to install it on one of her steam creations but never finished it. "Well, her we go!" She pointed the device at the wall and activated it. It sent out a shockwave that rattled the boxes around her and seemed to affect the wall slightly. "Hmm..." She walked up to the wall and used the device directly in front of it. 

The townsfolk gathered around the well took interest in the loud boom that came from the sylvari's room.

"Seems she may have filled that room to the bursting point" one said. They laughed a bit. Then they heard another loud boom and watched as Ceara came flying backwards out of the door. A large dust cloud came rolling out seconds afterwards. 

Ceara stared at the sky for a moment as the dust cloud rolled over her. "That...I didn't think that would happen..." She sat up and waited for the dust to clear. She could see the far wall of the room collapsed and darkness on the other side. 

"You think we should try to help her?" one of the folks asked to the group. 

"Nah, whatever that girl is doing over there I don't want any part of."

Ceara ran back inside, covering her nose and mouth. She grabbed a lantern and peered through the hole. Indeed there was a cave. There were makeshift rickety stairs leading down into the darkness. Cautiously she made her way down. 

"You know what lies in the darkness, don't you, dear?" she heard in her mind. She paused for a moment and stared into the blackness. 

"This isn't the Eternal Alchemy," she said to herself as she continued on, a joyful cackle echoed through her mind. 

"Just stop, will you?" she said grabbing her forehead. 

"I'll never stop. Now, continue on, darling. We need to see what's in this cave."

Ceara felt herself forced to continue. Climbing over rocks and walking through spider webs, she finally found an exit that lead out into a canyon. 

"Nothing. But at least it will be a good place to set up shop and do some work."

"There's plenty to be done." the voice responded. Ceara took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "What? You may as well get used to it. I'm here for the duration." 

Days turned into weeks which turned into months. She had feverishly studied the current of leyline energy running through the cavern, sometimes days at a time. Trying to figure out how to harness it, redirect it, use its energies to power anything and everything. 

"You should get some sleep, Darling." the voice whispered.

Ceara stopped working for a moment, shaking her head. Sleep was indeed weighing heavy on her. She closed her eyes for a moment trying to focus. "If I sleep, the nightmares return..." 

"They aren't that bad," the voice replied back to her. "But they may go away if you would just...give...IN!"

Ceara winced at the sharp pain that ran through the back of her head. "I don't know how much more I can take." She took a breath. "This is taking longer than I anticipated. Of all the types of materials I've used to try to capture any of this energy is destroyed in a matter of minutes. I need to find a material that can withstand the power this energy produces."

Ceara opened her eyes. "No...Leave me alone!" she yelled. The darkness was all around her. She started to run. But it seemed to never end. 

"You are nothing! I will swallow your hope and destroy your will. I am your master and you will submit to me!" a deep voice boomed all around. She felt dark hands all over her as she ran through the blackness. There were eyes everywhere though she couldn't see them. Something grabbed her leg and she fell. Looking at her leg, it was a vine adorned with thorns, wrapped around it, like the ones she saw in the Eternal Alchemy. It was slowly twisting it's way around her when another joined it, their thorns slowly digging into her skin. She heard footsteps that appeared to be coming from all around. Out of the darkness, she saw it. She saw herself. Multiple of her. Surrounding her. They all looked at her, smiling menacingly. They moved in and grabbed her, and she jolted awake. She sat up, trying to catch her breath. She had fallen asleep at a work table, a terrible mistake. 

"Each time...it gets worse...." she said to herself. "I may not be able to hold out much  longer."

Weeks passed. Her research led her to find that steel forged by the Dredge may be her best bet to contain the energy produced by the leyline. Working through channels in Tyria's underground black market, she was able to secure a supply of scrap Dredge steel. Fashioning a cylindrical container, it did indeed last longer than anything she had used before, but it too eventually disintegrated. 

"Hmmm...almost," she thought, looking at the pile of dust and scrap remain of the container. "But what am I missing?"

"Perhaps you're being too technical about this?" the voice questioned. Ceara narrowed her eyes. 

"Hmm...for once maybe you're right."

"I'm always right. You haven't learned that yet?" 

"Hmph", Ceara grunted at the notion. "Anyway, casting all technical data aside for the moment, what do we have left? Alchemy? Magic? The Mists? The Dream?" Ceara sat down at a table and started brainstorming, alternating between writing on a notepad and typing on a holoscreen. Hours passed as she made calculations, diagrams, notations, scribbles and doodles. Finally she may have arrived at her answer. 

"The Flame Legion fires are imbued with magic. What if the Dredge steel is forged in that flame?" She thought. "Talking to them won't be easy. I dare not contact them in person." She knew it would take a lot of sly talking and underhanded manipulation to get the Flame Legion to give up their secrets. 

"The promise of a stronger steel for their army may swing things in my favor," she said to herself.

"And offer the Dredge the promise of magic, and they'll be in the palm of your hand," the voice said. 

"The moles get magic, the flame gets gears. And I get the materials I need. It's perfect." She thought. The first part of her plan was starting to come together. She smiled.

"Soon...the world will know Scarlet Briar." A hysterical cackle filled the cavern. 

Scarlet opened her eyes. "Oh Ceara, so ambitious. Father loved you." She playfully trailed the ghostly leyline she had conjured around her, like a dancer trailing a ribbon. It dissipated as she started walking through the dead foliage, brown grass and dried twigs cracking under her footsteps. She sat against a rotten log, looking up at the sky. "You resisted so much, but eventually you learned that you couldn't hold back Father's ambition. You gave in, and when you finally learned, we ended up having so much fun, didn't we? Especially at the Jubilee!" The sounds of mechanical chaos and people screaming filled the air around her.

"So there is a jubilee being thrown for the anniversary of Queen Jennah's 10 years as ruler? Hmm,,, how about that? Seems like my kind of party!" Scarlet said excitedly hearing the news. Her excitement turned to agitation abruptly. "But...I never got an invitation! How could they not invite me?!" She looked at the hologram of the Aetherblade captain standing before her. "Maybe a surprise visit is in store, right Captain?"

 Yes, Madam!" the hologram shouted back.

"Send a team in to see what the good Queen is going to have in the way of security, would you please? And make it quick!"

"Right away, Madam Scarlet!" he saluted her, and disappeared. 

Scarlet pondered for a moment. "Hmm...if I could kidnap the Queen...." she said to herself "that would be a great boon for my plans." A dull pain ran through the back of her head. She gritted her teeth. "Will...you...stop FIGHTING! You can't win, you're nothing now!. He controls you now. You belong to him. The more you fight, the longer this will take. Just give in to him, give yourself over to him, then maybe he will finally grant you peace." The pain subsided and Scarlet smiled to herself. "There, that's a good little sylvari. Align yourself with Father and he will give you everything. Now, where was I? Ah yes, kidnapping Queen Jennah." She thought for a moment. "I won't really be able to plan anything until I hear the captains report."  Taking a sip from a warm cup of tea,  she looked over at the furnace she had built. "We really need to get that thing working properly. We don't want to freeze in here, do we darling? What? You don't like where we set up shop? Our own little private lab located in the middle of the Shiverpeaks where no one could possibly find us?" She looked around at the lab she had built for herself. A small hidden room in a cave in Lornar's Pass, right underneath the Durmond Priory's nose. She chuckled at the thought. The greatest collection of magical artifacts in all of Tyria was just a few hundred yards away with only solid bedrock separating her from them. But she knew better. Any attempt to infiltrate the Priory's secured collection at current would be disastrous. "Perhaps after Father has awakened." She sipped from the tea again. "You certainly do have good taste in tea, dear." She took a moment to admire the drink, a mix of ginger tea with a slight hint of sweet berry ale from Hoelbrak, before walking across the lab to a large monitor that hung on the wall. The screen showed a map of Tyria with multiple lines running every which way across it. "Now which one of you is going to be the lucky one..." she said, slightly smiling and laughing to herself.  

Turning her attention to a workbench nearby, she stared at a small metallic device she had been building. She walked over to the bench and picked up the object. A small device with wires sticking out of it every which way. Picking up some nearby tools, she continued working on it. 

"Soon, I'll have those diminutive minded Dredge building hundreds of these probes and placing them all over Tyria," she said, very content in her work. 

A few days passed. Working on the small probe, she heard her communication device activate. 

"That better be that captain with a report," she said angrily. She activated the hologram screen on her control panel and an image of the Aetherblade captain appeared.  "It's about time, Captain. What good news do you bring me?....you better have good news!"

"Madam, the team has arrived back from Divinity's Reach with their report."

"And?"

"The newly built Crown Pavilion is where the jubilee will be held..."

"And?"

"The Queen has commissioned a battalion of  robot guards to protect against any kind of attack."

"Robot guards? Like asura golems?"

"No Madam. These are human shaped, female specifically. We've never seen these before." Scarlet paused a moment, her eyes wide. 

"Madam?"

"Oh really!? Interesting!" Scarlet squealed with excitement. "What else did they find?" The Captain was taken a little off guard by her outburst of excitement at first, and then ran off a few other things, but she wasn't listening, her thoughts on these new "robot guards". 

"Um Madam, are you still listening?" He asked. 

"Oh, you're still talking? I'm sorry, Captain. Actually... I'm not listening...and I'm not sorry. You're free to go now." 

"Uh, Mad..." She shut off the screen, cutting him off abruptly. Scarlet pondered for a long time. "If these are the same machines that I think they are, then...they may have incorporated some of my own steam designs into them...which means..." a wide smile grew across her face, her eyes as wide as can be "I can control them! This party just got a whole lot better!" She laughed as she pranced around the room. "Now where did I leave all those old design drawings!?" She opened an old chest she had sitting in a corner of the lab. It was overflowing with old documents and drawings she had done years ago. Papers flew everywhere and she rummaged through the paperwork. 

"Oh shut up you. Stop your complaining. This is going to be amazing. The plan I have. Just imagine the looks on the faces of those poor poor people when they see the excitement I'm going to create! HA!" she said, laughing hysterically. Her apparent happiness ended when she reached the bottom of the chest without finding the paperwork she was looking for. 

"They aren't here?" she said softly. "Where are they?" She looked around the lab before pausing. "Prosperity? Why did we leave them in Prosperity? AAARRGGH! I have to return to that wretched desert. At least it won't take long...hopefully." Scarlet grabbed a small device from a shelf and adjusted some controls. "There, all set." In the blink of an eye, she appeared in the desert on the outskirts of the town. 

"Well, look who came back." One of the townsfolk standing by the well said. "What do you think she's up to this time?"

"Don't know, don't want to know" another said, taking a drink from his beer. 

Scarlet entered her room. She ran her fingers over one of the crates. There was a fine layer of dust on everything. Looking over the boxes, she let out a heavy sigh. "Where do I start?" she asked herself, scratching the back of her head. She managed to find the drawings she was looking for in the second box. "How lucky! Yay me!" They were her old drawings from years before when she was designing her steam creatures. "Now..." she smiled slyly "let's get to work."

Back at the lab, Scarlet poured over the blueprints of her old steam creatures. It didn't take her long to build a device that will allow her to take control of these new mechanical constructs the Queen had commissioned. 

"Well now, that was a tad too easy." she said to herself smiling. She paused a moment and closed her eyes. "Quit...being...a...bother, please?" she said, sighing heavily as a dull pain appeared in the back of her head. "You really aren't in any position to have a choice in anything, you realize that, right?" She attached the device to one of the gauntlets of her armor. "Now...I think this jubilee would be the perfect time we made our grand introduction to the world, don't you think?"

"The Jubilee was indeed a blast, wasn't it?" Scarlet thought, smiling to herself. "I didn't get the Queen, but I did get to torment Lord Faren a bit. And those Watchknights...they were too perfect. Well, perfect after my modifications. Not to mention they gave me the most wonderful idea to deal with that wretched dragon slayer and that rag tag group. Cupping her hands together in front of her, a ghostly apparition of a Watchknight appeared in standing in her palms. She smiled at it, cocking her head sideways a little in a playful fashion. "We started working on it, but there were more pressing matters." The watchknight faded as she waved her hand in front of her. A ghostly image of the Tower of Nightmares she had ordered constructed appeared in front of her. A giant simple tower built of wood and steel, open at the top in Viathan Lake of Kessex Hills that housed one of her greatest creations...

"A giant spore plant...whose poison can fell even the most hardiness of the Norn...whose spores can be harvested to make into a lethal weapon..." Her eyes narrowed. "It's so brilliant." Scarlet said out loud, laughing to herself looking at her display. "I'll spread it across all of Tyria....what?...oh shut up you. I'm getting sick of your constant struggling to gain control. It's not going to happen so just get back in your box and keep quiet." She slammed her fist on the console. "You should be thankful. Thanks to all your knowledge, I've been able to put my grand scheme into production." Scarlet tapped some buttons on the console and brought up some images. One a giant version of the Watchknights, another a seemingly huge machine designed to bore into the earth. "You see? My greatest inventions. These will change Tyria." She paused a moment looking a little distraught. "These aren't your ideas! I created them! They're mine!" She snarled. "Oh, the dragon slayer will stop me? I think not. What happened at the Jubilee was a minor set back." Scarlet thought back to what happened at the Crown Pavilion. The Queen was in her grasp, but it turned out to be a mesmer illusion. "Well, at least there was Lord Faren. He was quite the charmer" She smiled. "Oh! You finally agree with me on something? Will wonders never cease? Of all things we agree on Lord Faren. And yes he did. I especially liked the color of his undies." Scarlet laughed. A holoprojection appeared on the console. It was a member of the Nightmare Court who had joined her newly formed Toxic Alliance. 

"Madam Scarlet." He saluted. "Construction of the tower is going according to plan, but the krait are becoming extremely difficult to work with." She looked at the hologram with disdain.

"Madam?" he asked.

"Did I...give you...permission to TALK?" she asked, raising her voice. 

"Ah...I...I'm sorry, Madam." 

"What is your name, boy?" she commanded. The sylvari looked worried. "Spit it out! Now!"

"Ah...it's Caelan, Madam."

"Caelan?" she narrowed her eyes. "Know you place, boy. You speak to me without permission again, I'll make your life extremely miserable, do you understand?

"Yes, Madam!" he saluted again. 

"Now, what is this about the Krait?"

"They...aren't working to full potential. They aren't following instructions. Creating havoc."

"Tell them...if they wish to meet their prophet like I promised, they will follow our deal to the letter. As a matter of fact, tell their dear priestess that she will be receiving a letter from me very shortly, reminding her of our deal. I get my tower, the krait get their prophet, and the Nightmare Court get their spores."

"Yes, Madam. Right away!" the hologram disappeared. 

"Of course, I don't really care about their so called prophet or the Court" She activated floating console and started typing "I was harsh to him? Really? You, of all people, are going to lecture me about being "harsh" to people. You just need to sit in the corner and keep quiet." She took a sip of her tea. "and I was harsh to him because he needed to be reminded of his place in all this. He and the rest of those Nightmare Court idiots. So just be quiet and let me work." She finished typing the message and sent it on its way. "That should keep those Krait in line for awhile." After closing down the console  she walked over to a workbench where a small prototype energy probe was lowly humming. She looked at it for a moment and smiled. "It's time." She contacted the Aetherblades on the holoprojector. 

"Yes, Madam Scarlet?" the soldier asked.

"Instruct the Dredge to start placing the energy probes at all the predetermined locations that I have supplied immediately." 

"Yes, Madam. Right away!" She shut the projector down and sat in her chair, smiling at the monitor. Swinging her legs over the side and teasing her hair, she started laughing to herself before taking a sip of her tea. 

Days passed as Scarlet worked on her plans. Her wall monitor showed a map of Tyria showing signal pings from her sensor probes. Every so often a new one would appear as the Dredge continued to install them across the continent. 

"Moving forward, my dear." she said. "Aren't you proud of the work you've done? Aren't you proud to be part of this? We're destined for greater things." There was silence.  "Hmm...nothing to say? Usually you're quite talkative about these things." Scarlet chuckled to herself as she poured over a stack of blueprints on the table. "This is coming along nicely." She held up a sheet that had a design schematic for a large version of the Watchknights. "This." she smiled. The hologram projector pinged. "Hm?". Activating the projector, an image of the young sylvari  Caelan appeared. 

"Madam Scarlet!?" he seemed anxious. "We have a..." he stopped himself as Scarlet narrowed her eyes.  

"Caelan,...What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"I'm sorry, Madam. The tower is nearing completion, but we seemed to have attracted some unwanted attention."

"Then why are you still talking to me? You should be out there disposing of said unwanted  attention. Are all of you Nightmare Court idiots that dense?" Caelan's mouth hung open in seemingly disbelief. "Now really?" she said in a huff. "You're going to catch flies. Now go!" She shut the holoprojector off, "Sometimes I think Faolin just pulls in the weakest of us to fill her little group." Scarlet paused. "Oh wait, she does." she said, shaking her head. She moved back to the work bench. "Time to get those dredge to work again. This "marionette" will be my..." she paused, staring at the wall, seemingly slightly agitated. "Is that what you think? that you're just a puppet? That WE are a puppet? No darling, you're a means to an end, and a new beginning for Tyria when this is all done." she smiled. "All sylvari will have you to thank when we rule the land. Now be good and just sit quietly. It's time for the Dredge to start working on this." She rolled up the prints and placed them in a container. "Well, now that the tower is completed, I guess we should go inspect their handiwork, don't you think? I'm sure the Krait are just besides themselves waiting for their prophet to arrive! I do hope they all did use the antitoxin. It would be a shame for all of them to just suddenly die when the spores start spreading!" She laughed to herself. "First things first though, I'll get the Dredge to start construction on this at the hanger, and might as well see how they are doing on our BIG project!" Her laughter echoed through the lab.

Scarlet teleported into her little room in the Aetherblade hanger. Exiting the room, she looked over the gigantic structure that housed multiple Aetherblade airships as well as a giant machine that was under construction. A nearby Aetherblade member noticed her and saluted. 

"Madam Scarlet!" he shouted. Nearby soldiers took notice and saluted as well. 

"Soldier, where is the foreman?" 

"He's up on the superstructure, Madam. Shall I call him?"

"Yes, Right away." she ordered. The soldier ran over to a small intercom. Scarlet looked over the railing to the floor below. Dredge were scurrying everywhere, working on anything and everything in the giant room. Moments later, the soldier returned. 

"Foreman IronHammer is on his way, Madam."

"Excellent. I am very short on time and would hate to have to be kept waiting." The soldier saluted and returned to his post. Minutes later, the foreman arrived. Once a member of the Charr Iron Legion, Ironhammer abandoned his warband in search of riches across Tyria. He found his calling in the Aetherblades. 

"Madam Scarlet." He saluted. "What do we owe the pleasure of this unscheduled visit?" 

"I have a new project for the Dredge to start working on immediately. I need it finished as fast as possible." She handed the container with the plans to him. He opened them and looked over the first sheet. 

"Madam, this is..." he started. Her eyes narrowed, her lips pursed as she prepared for a brutal rebuttal against his seemingly apparent apprehension. Then she noticed he started smiling. "This is deliciously clever!" he snarled.  

"Good! Get the Dredge to work right away. It's going to be a special surprise for our...friends." she sneered at the thought of the dragon slayer. "Now, I must be off. I have matters to attend to in Kessex. I expect results shortly, Foreman."

"Yes, Madam!" he saluted. 

The Dream seemed to shudder as Scarlet watched the image of the tower fade. "Who would have thought that the Krait and the Nightmare Court would have worked together? I'm still amazed at myself that I got those two groups to actually join forces." she chuckled to herself. On the hopes of power and wealth, she had managed to get two of the most unlikely groups in Tyria to work together to construct one of her greatest weapons. "But, alas, that dragon slayer showed up and destroyed it. But not before I got my spores." She smiled,  pausing for a moment. "I had the perfect plan to remove that festering sore." She held out her hands and an image of her "Marionette" appeared. A giant Watchknight hanging by chains, like a giant puppet. "I was so proud of this." she said, thinking back to that day in Lornar's Pass. 

Scarlet smiled as she looked up at the towering monstrosity of chrome and steel. A giant twisted mockery of the Watchknights she captured from the Jubilee. It hung on huge chains like a giant puppet. 

"It's perfect." she said. "The perfect trap to deal with those "heroes of Tyria". She sneered. Standing on a raised gantry way, she looked down at the floor below. Dredge ran from here to there making final adjustments to the giant machine. 

"Madam Scarlet, Is there a location where you would like to test the Marionette?" an Aetherblade member asked her. 

Scarlet pondered for a few moments. "Divinity's Reach would be nice. Or maybe the Grove? Lion's Arch? No, no none of those. All those places will be heavily defended anyway. Plus the spores aren't ready."

"Ma'am, may I suggest in Lornar's Pass. There is a location that I believe would be a perfect test area. We could even lure the dragon slayer and that troublesome band and trap them, along with any other allies they might have, and you could deal with them at your leisure." Scarlet smiled at the idea. Then, when the time came, she could put the final phase of her plan into motion unhindered. 

She licked her upper lip, smiling slyly "Lornar's Pass, eh? I  like the way you think, soldier." In Lornar's Pass, she could monitor the battle from the safety of her own lab. "Show me where this perfect area is." The soldier led Scarlet down the gantry way and over to a map on a nearby table. 

"This area here." he said pointing to a section of the map. " False River Valley. This alcove in the mountains will be the perfect place. They would only be able to approach from the west and south, and given the shape of the terrain with these valleys, we could drop in modified watchknights behind them while they are focused on the Marionette, cutting off any escape route." Scarlet pondered for a moment, her thoughtful expression slowly turning into a smile. 

"I love it!" she said excitedly. "I can finally be rid of that thorn in my side!" She paused a moment. "Not you! Where have you been? You've been so quiet lately, I've almost forgotten you exist!" The soldier looked at Scarlet somewhat puzzled.

"Madam? Are you..."

"I'm fine!" she cut him off.  "This is absolutely perfect! I'll be rid of those...those...thank you...that nuisance once and for all! HA! Can you believe it? Then I can finally put the final touches on my plan! Like the final topping on a cake! How sweet it will be!" Scarlet laughed. The soldier slowly started backing away. It didn't go unnoticed. "What's the matter, boy? Do I scare you?" 

No, Madam...I'm...I'm just giving you some room." 

"Just think!" she turned away from him  "this will all be over very soon. And then?...oh yes...and then we will rule over Tyria." She turned back to him, grinning from ear to ear. "And I will have you to thank for this! You!" She walked over to him, placing her hand gently under his chin. "Don't be afraid, boy." she said, looking into his eyes. "I'll make sure you have a proper place in the new world when we are done." She narrowed her eyes. Tell me...what do you dream about?"

"Uh...I...uh.."

"Come now, boy. Surely you dream of something at night, don't you?" She released his chin and turned away from him. 

"You can answer later. But now, let's prepare, shall we!? How soon until the Marionette is ready? Where is Foreman Ironhammer?" She activated an intercom. "Foreman Ironhammer. Report to me immediately!" 

"Um..Madam..."

"What?" she turned to the soldier, seemingly agitated.

"You might want to at least announce where your location is so he can find you..." the soldier sheepishly. Scarlet fell silent, staring at him. 

"You already scored positive points in my book. Don't make me erase them." she said sternly. "Now get out of my sight!" she ordered. 

"I...yes, Madam!" the soldier saluted and quickly left. Scarlet looked up at the Marionette again, lost in thought. 

"Dear, it's because of you that all this is happening. Your brilliance and ingenuity are beyond anyone in Tyria. Because of you, all of Tyria will bow before a new master. And we..."she paused smiling. "We will be on the forefront of a new world." 

"Madam Scarlet." Foreman Ironhammer approached her. He stood beside her and saluted. She turned her gaze away from the Marionette to him. 

"Foreman..." she said calmly, looking at him in the eyes, before turning back to the Marionette. "When will the Marionette be ready for it's big introduction?"

"Final adjustments and testing are being made as we speak, Madam. She'll be ready in a couple of days."

"Hmm..." Scarlet seemed discontent. The Foreman took notice. 

"Madam?" 

" Foreman Ironhammer. You've done an incredible job in keeping everything running on schedule here, so I'll be lenient. But..." she paused. Ironhammer felt uneasy. " I want the Marionette finished as soon as possible. I want to watch those so called 'heroes' burn when I give them the surprise of their lives." She smiled. The Foreman breathed in deep.

"Yes Madam! I'll double the efforts of the Dredge. '

"Good, we have to prepare for launch and...let it slip that I'll be testing a new weapon in Lornar's Pass." She said playfully as she walked away from the Foreman. 

"I didn't get to overcharge the Aethercannon inside the Marionette in time...." Scarlet watched as the image of the marionette collapsed in her hands, like the giant version had months before when the heroes of Tyria managed to cut the chains holding it before she could detonate it.

"And really, Ceara?" Scarlet said to herself. " 'Cut my strings...' Was that your last plea for help? Hoping the heroes could somehow save you from your destiny?" She remembered Ceara managed to take control for a brief moment during the battle at the Marionette. "They wouldn't have been able to save you." The Marionette had been her crowning achievement up to that point in her life. Sadly, she wasn't able to kill the dragon slayer, or any others for that matter. It didn't matter. She looked at the cold dead ground under her feet. 

"In the end, we still got the prize, didn't we, Ceara? Well...I did anyway." She smiled lightly. "Those heroes tried to knock out the probes, but they missed the most crucial one. How lucky I was." she thought. They had missed the probe sitting on the floor of Sanctum Harbor in Lion's arch. By the time they had realized it, it was too late. The probe had allowed her to complete her scheme accessing the flow of leyline energy under Lion's Arch and redirecting it far into the jungle of Maguuma. 

"That was quite the defining moment.", she thought. She remembered being stabbed through by the Dragon Slayer, and it was at that point she made the jump to the Dream of  Dreams. 

"Dear Ceara, it's been fun, but it's now time for us to go our separate ways. I'll miss you dearly. Say hello to everyone in the Mists for me. Ta-ta!" she remembered thinking as she crossed the barrier between Tyria and the Dream. Scarlet looked around surrounding area of the Dream. "Since arriving here, this has been my home." Her face turned serious. "But...Ceara never died...she was somehow saved. And how did I not know? How did I not feel her presence?" She paused for a moment. "No matter. I learned out how to access the Mists on my own. Once I have enough energy gathered, I'll be able to open a large enough rift to the Mists, and create a continuous siphon of energy to feed into the leyline that feeds Father. That kind of power will allow him to conquer all...Tyria, the Dream, even the Mists itself will bow before him!" Her laughter echoed throughout the dead forest.

[jillmaemarie14-blog]

BARANGAY 471 Disaster Risk Reduction and Management

Last December 15, 2019, I conducted an interview with the barangay officer about Disaster Risk Reduction and Management. First, let me tell your about the barangay.

Barangay 471 is one of the hundred and ninety two (192) barangays situated in district of Sampaloc in the City of Manila. It is created in 1982 through the manner of election. Its barangay hall is located at 1219 Navarra St., Sampaloc Manila. The barangay population is composed of 1,872 residents. The barangay is considered as semi-commercial area and the source of income of the residents came from food stalls, commercial establishments, transport services such as tricycles, and sari-sari stores. It is composed of the streets of Antonio, Rosarito. Navarra, Juaning, Santander, and a portion of Dapitan and Laon Laan. The area is near University if Santo Tomas and Perpetual Help College-Manila. The barangay is considered as a transient area for students and pedestrians as it is situated near schools and maintain transportation routes.

The Barangay Disaster Coordinating Council (BDDC) is responsible for developing the "Disaster Preparedness Plan" to protect lives and properties. Also to minimize damages in the event of a disaster/calamity. The BDDC Chairman also ensure the basic provisions of the Plan are disseminated to all persons in the barangay. They also established a "Barangay Disaster Operations Center (BDOC) where the activities of the BDCC may be directed in an emergency.

The Disaster Coordinating Council Chairman, maintains liaisons with other barangays, initiates and conducts training courses for disaster activities. They are the ones who coordinates the arrangement for private and government agencies. Also they handle the equipment and required supplies needed for disasters.

The waring service team are responsible for securing the barangay. They send warning signals and educate all residents on the meaning of different signals and what response they should do. The barangay also have rescue and evacuation service team which is assign for locating injured, trapped, hurt, and stranded persons. They ensure that the people of the barangay is safe. The disaster relief and supply service team is responsible receipts of evacuees or victims and provision for housing for displaced persons or evacuees in evacuation centers or in private homes. For the medical service team, their duties and responsibilities is to perform medical and first aid services in an emergency situation.

The barangay officer told me about their earthquake drill and what they do in case of crisis. They trained the community of Barangay 471 and tested the various elements of their response plan in order to evaluate and revisit it.

The preparation phase of Barangay 471, first is the static water tank (the barangay has an alternative water source), fuel supply (fuel demands of critical structures identified and the barangay is situated beside a gasoline situation), food (food establishments identified for source of ready-to-eat meals. Location wise the barangay is within the university belt and it is surrounded by food establishments), infrastructure audit (condemned buildings identified. Modification of existing structures to make them more resistant to seismic activity, ground motion, or soil fracture due to earthquakes. For example is the Atlantica Star building beside the barangay hall was also reported to City Engineer's office for evaluation. The communication services, public address system installed in the barangay hall to easily inform the community. For basic life support, representatives from NAVADAP TODA, Barngay Council, Residents, and SK federation undergo Basic Life Support and CPR Ready Training Conducted by UST Medical Division. Barangay Census, record of residents were updated from time to time. 

They also conducted the "drill proper", first is the "alarm", "response" which is to perform the duck, cover, and hold. Taking cover beneath a sturdy table or deck, or dropping to the floor near an interior wall covering the head with both hands and arms. They made sure that everyone are away from windows, glass or light fixtures. If no available cover, they need to protect their head.

For evacuation, after remaining in respective safe-place until the shaking has stopped, everyone will evacuate the building and proceeds through pre-determined safe routes and evacuees gather outside in a safe area from buildings, fences, walls, electricity poles, bridges and trees. The barangay officers also conducted a roll call which will determine if everyone is present.

The Disaster Coordinating Council Chairman, maintains liaisons with other barangays, initiates and conducts training courses for disaster activities. They are the ones who coordinates the arrangement for private and government agencies. Also they handle the equipment's and required supplies needed for disasters.

The fire brigade team, provide fire-fighting instructions through available sources such as training schools, local fire departments and others. Assuring theta fire-fighters of fire-fighting equipment in their area if responsibility and the alarm signals which direct them to their situations. They all have six steps to safety, "S = sound alarm", "A = advise fire brigade", "F = fight fire", "E = evacuate". "T = tell others", "Y = you get clear". Working closely with the dwellers or residents on matter of fire prevention and protection. 

The Damage Control Team is responsible for controlling utilities in the community during and emergency. For security service team, they protect the persons and properties in vacated houses or areas, evacuation centers and areas of operations. While the transportation and communication team, they identify all locally available transportation facilities in the barangay and tapping these sources as needed and supporting the transportation needs of the barangay during operations activities. In coordinating instructions, develop and execute their respective action plans in support of the barangay calamities and disaster preparedness plan. 

The administrative and logistics are responsible for financial support for both short and long-term operations. The direction and control of disaster operations of the barangay levek will be exercised through the BDCC Action officer under the over-all supervision of the BDCC Chairman. 

The pre-impact period, all leaders/members must report automatically to the Barangay Disaster Operations Center (BDCC) to get last-minute instructions from the BDCC Chairman. All families must be warned about the type of danger they will expect within the next few hours or days as the case may be. The impact period, as soon as disaster strikes, the leader/assistant leader or any qualified member of the specialized service teams must stay at the Barangay Disaster Operations Center (BDOC). Their duties are to issue directives/order to the field and to receive feedbacks from the field

The BDRRM Kwentuhan was fun and I learned a lot of new lessons about it. Especially how they handle the barangay in times of crisis. The barangay officer told me the hazards/disasters they encountered or may encounter such as earthquake, fire, and frequently is flooding.

They have early warning system in areas that are prone in disaster. For example are equipment and materials to lessen the damage. For Super Typhoon, the available equipment for disaster are megaphone and two-way radio, for flooding are declogging materials and flood level indicator. While for fire disaster situation are fire extinguishers, first aid kit, and BP apparatus. Lastly is for earthquake, the available disaster equipment's are megaphone and two-way radio same with super typhoon.

My reflection about the BDRRM kwentuhan, they are aware about the possible hazards/disasters. They are well prepared and know what to do in case of crisis. The barangay officers and the barangay team are informed and alert on what will they do. It is very important to know the DRRM to avoid damage and injuries or death. People in the community are unaware about the health issues and disaster concerning within their barangay. The DRRM also helps us to be alert on how we response in emergency cases. It make us safe and more disaster-resilient. It is vital for building a sustainable life and better future.

PHOTOS AND DOCUMENTATION

[faveficarchive]

Up in the Air: Part 4

Book Two of That Healing Touch Series

By K.Darblyne

Pairing: Xena/Gabrielle

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: Garrett is five months in to her fellowship, and she and Danni are trying to change the game even more, all the while strengthening their bond. 

Cowboy sat in the cockpit waiting for the arrival of the rest of his team. He watched the seconds tick by on his wristwatch until they would get there. He’d learned it early on, when there was an appointed time to be met; Garrett Trivoli was one punctual lady. The minute clicked over to 0859 and the seconds began ticking away. When exactly 30 seconds had gone by, the pilot let his eyes gaze over to the door at the rear of the emergency room that lead directly to the Trauma Rooms. Within the blink of his eye, there emerged the tall surgeon and her petite nurse, each sporting their flight gear and carrying a small bag with their necessary clothing for the night. A smile came to his lips with the sound of the rear door opening. Cowboy glanced down at his watch. ‘Yep, right on time.’ It was 0900.

"Morning, ladies. I trust you had a good night’s sleep."

Danni became self-conscious now of her appearance. ‘Was it that noticeable that she had trouble sleeping?’ The poor girl’s mind had been full of thoughts of an anticipated night sharing a room with the tall surgeon, reeking havoc with her sleep. The nurse sighed and climbed on board. She could feel the beginnings of the flush that slowly crept up from her chest into the base of her neck and struggled to keep them at bay.

"Thanks for the tip about spending the night." Garrett reached out and cupped Cowboy’s shoulder.

"Huh?" He turned to look back at the woman, puzzlement written on his face. "I didn’t…we’re staying over night?"

"Yeah, I figured that it was you that suggested it to McMurray."

"Sorry, Doc, it wasn’t me. All that I suggested was that we move the departure time up so that we could get back before the storm front was anywhere close."

Now the pieces of the puzzle were fitting together. "I guess it’s his way of rewarding us."

"Doesn’t matter where we are, Doc, once that storm hits we’ll be grounded. I guess he figured why have you stuck at home when all of your friends are going to be up there."

Garrett began to feel bad that Cowboy was not warned in advance of the overnight stay. "I’d feel better if he’d have warned you, too."

"Hey, don’t worry about it, Doc. The women will go wild for the uniform." He tugged at the material of his flight suit. "Besides, I’m an old ‘Nam vet, we always have an extra pair of socks with us." He winked and patted her arm. "Now get on board so we can take off, will you?"

The woman nodded and complied with his request.

Danni could hear the muffled voices of the surgeon and pilot, but she had things on her mind that was distracting enough. Now, she tried to busy herself with the routine of checking their equipment before the flight. She looked over to see Garrett entering the door and then closing it making sure that the lock was engaged. ‘Okay, Danni, you’re a professional…try to act like one. There’s a whole day to get through before you have to worry about the sleeping arrangements.’

The surgeon buckled herself into her seat and donned her helmet, adjusting the strap to keep it on. "What’s left to check?"

Danni focused her mind. "Just the items that are in the drug bag and the intubation kit." ‘There, you can do it. Just like any other day.’

Garrett nodded and quickly began the drill of checking the bags. When it was over, she looked up to see Danni watching her intently. "Something wrong, Danni?"

"Ah…no…ah I was just…waiting for you to get done." Then as if to cover her motives she hastily flashed the "thumbs up" sign and spoke to the pilot. "All accounted for and ready for lift off, Cowboy." To which the surgeon agreed giving her "thumbs up."

The pilot returned the signal then started his routine for flight departure and within moments they were up in the air.

************

The progression of the landscape below them had changed drastically, long gone were the tall building of the metropolis that had stretched out into the areas of suburban homes. Now, underneath them could be seen the sparsely placed farms with their rolled hay randomly strewn about the fields like dots on a page and churches, where pointed steeples reached upward towards the heavens. It seemed so peaceful out here in the country where distance was measured as the crow flies instead of city blocks.

Garrett settled back in her seat, her gaze still lingering on the passing countryside. ‘One thing that I can say about this job, I’d never have this view in a windowless operating theater.’ Her head turned, taking in first the pilot and then the form of her team member. ‘Or even good friends to share them with.’ The surgeon watched the petite woman for a moment before she turned her vision back towards her own window. ‘I’m glad that we’re going to have a little down time. Danni’s sure been acting funny here lately.’ The tall woman found herself shrugging her shoulders. "I guess she needs more than just me around…I don’t know why."

There was silence for a few moments before the soft sound of Danni’s voice came across the headphones. "Gar, do you know how to ski?"

The surgeon smiled as memories of weekend skiing trips with her family flooded her mind. "Ski?" Garrett nodded her head. "I’m not any Olympic caliber skier but yeah, I can ski." She looked over to the petite nurse. "I haven’t been on a pair of skis in years. Why do you ask?"

The young woman squinted, wrinkling up her nose in the process. "I was hoping that maybe…well, I’m not very good…"

"You want a few lessons?"

The nurse nodded. "Even if you could just teach me how to stay on my feet, that would help." ‘Just hold me and don’t let go, that would be sufficient.’

Garrett’s grin widened. "Sure, no problem. It’ll help me get back in the groove of things, anyway."

Danni struggled with her emotions. She could feel the temperature rising. ‘Thank the gods, its cold out there.’ The young woman’s mind was endlessly adrift in a sea of nameless faces, all with outstretched arms and resembling the tall, raven-haired woman seated next to her.

***

The threat of bad weather did nothing to keep the avid skiers away. Danni shook her head at the amount of people that were waiting in line for the chair lifts to the top of the ski runs. The young nurse stood waiting patiently for her private instructor outside of the rustic ski lodge as she watched the snowflakes glistening in the air around her. Casting a wayward eye to the heavens, she noted the heavy gray storm clouds in the northwestern sky. The heavier snow would be coming and soon.

Danni’s always-empty stomach sensed the smells of the outside grill. The wafted aromas that were so inviting to her nose, that she fought to resist the temptation for a taste of their wares. Trying to get her mind off the food, she started looking at the people around her. Danni felt a little out of place still in her leather jacket and flight suit. It seemed the populace of the resort opted for the more fashionable and colorful trends in nylon and down. ‘Well, there’s only just so much room when packing for a helicopter.’

The petite nurse turned back to the ski lodge, watching the door for any sign of her tall friend. ‘Can’t say that I’ll miss her. She looks just about as out of place as I do.’ Danni chuckled to herself, as she thought of them in their matched set of Flight suits and jackets. As the chuckling trailed off, the corners of Danni’s mouth edged ever upward. Coming through the doorway, her arms filled with skis, poles, and boots was Garrett. The nurse waved her arms in an attempt to be seen. It didn’t take long before the women locked eyes as they closed the distance between them. It was like a homing beacon that cut through both time and distance, welcoming the other into safe harbor.

"So, you ready for this?" Garrett tossed her head from side to side, motioning to the array of equipment in her arms.

Danni nodded her head while her voice trembled out a weak, "No," after which she found herself giggling as a wave of nervousness came over her.

She hid her face from Garrett as she peaked out her open fingers. ‘I can’t believe I’m this nervous.’

Garrett shook her head. "Come on, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m not that tough of an instructor that you need to hide." Shifting the equipment in her arms, she used her right index finger to cross her heart and then held the hand up in a mock oath. "Honest, I swear. I don’t bite, not even a little."

"Gee, and I was hoping for some nips here and there." The words were barely above a whisper as they came from the blonde’s mouth.

"What’s that you said?" There was the gentle sound of laughter on her voice as her eyebrow slowly crept upward. The woman felt like a kid again, free and laughing easily with the friend standing before her.

Danni was caught dumbfounded. ‘Ah…what can I say…’ Her eyes rolled around as they grew bigger. "Tips, I was hoping you could give me some tips…about skiing." The lone bead of perspiration started to roll down her forehead. ‘Why do I even try to whisper around her?’

***

It was almost 1100 hours when the first sign of any E.R. personnel, other than those who arrived by helicopter, were seen. The small troop of nylon garbed caregivers slowly made their way out of the lodge. The bustle of their pent up excitement was evident by the rapid banter and cackling that emitted from the group. Rosie, of course, being the loudest and in the lead while Mom dawdled along at the rear.

"Come on, Mom, it will be dark before we get a run or two in at the pace that you’re at." Rosie’s sharp comment was meant to hasten, not degrade the older woman.

"Yeah, well, just remember if I fall it’ll be you that’s gonna pick me up." Karen shuffled her feet a little faster in response. "I don’t see why we can’t put the darn skis on now instead of up on the top. It would give me a lot more stabilization in this crushed down snow. Go ahead and laugh, young lady. I want to see you when you’re my age."

"Come on, Granny, you want me to hold your hand?" Rosie stopped and took several steps in Karen’s direction only to be shooed off with the older woman’s gesturing hands.

"All right then, but don’t say that I didn’t offer." The sassy nurse did an about face and headed back to the group who had now paused trying to decide on which ski run to challenge first.

The sound of skis cutting across the packed snow was what first came to the attention of Karen. Lifting her head to make sure that she was not in anybody’s way, she spotted the tandem figures slowly coming towards her. With the utmost grace, the taller skier shifted her feet as her body turned slightly to the right, her weight now leaning to that side as she came to a stop, the snow spraying in her wake. The tall woman smiled, "Hi, Mom!" then digging her poles into the packed snow, Garrett turned to watch the progress her young protégé was making.

Only a few yards behind was a miniature figure clad in the same outfit, the skis and poles proportional in size to her body. The closer she came to them, the easier it was to see her tensed lips and slightly rigid body looking uncomfortable in the slightly seated, flexed knee position.

The surgeon watched with great concern, mumbling encouragements under her breath until she knew that her friend was within earshot. "Okay, now shift! Lean back with your weight." Garrett held her breath. "You can do it." Danni was only a few feet away now and sliding into a stop right in front of her tall friend.

The beaming smile on the petite nurse’s face was priceless as she realized that she was finally getting the hang of stopping. It had been an elusive adventure up until now. She was usually too fast or making her turn too sharp to be able to get everything to happen at the same time without ending up headed off in some new direction that was not of her choosing. In fact, Danni was so excited, she almost forgot to shift her body weight back into a standing position to keep from falling. Trying to correct it at the very last moment, the nurse could feel the strong grasp of her team member on the arm of her leather jacket helping to bring her up to the needed position.

"I did it…I stopped." The over exuberant woman was laughing as she spoke. "Mom, did you see? I didn’t fall down."

"Yes, seems like you have a better teacher this year." Karen looked over to the surgeon. "Great job, Doc."

"Hmmm…I don’t know, she’s not a Jean Claude Kyle by any means." Garrett chuckled. "But I guess she’ll pass." The tall woman pulled down her wraparound sunglasses and winked.

"Hey, Danni, where’d you learn to ski?" Rosie called over to her. "Is that part of being on the Flight Surgeon’s team?" She smirked, "I guess you got to be able to use all sorts of ways get to where you want to be," then wiggled her eyebrows.

Danni’s eyes shot over to Mom’s, only to see the older woman looking back at her seriously and shaking her head. ‘Mom, you didn’t? Then how does she know?’

Garrett noticed the concern in Danni’s face. "Come on, Dan, she’s just jealous." She waited a moment until the nurse’s face showed signs of relief. "What do you say we get out of the cold for a while…maybe go inside by the fire and get something to eat before we have to do our presentation for the ski patrol?" The surgeon began to get out of her skis and picked them up, holding them tightly under her one arm while she grabbed at the poles with the other.

"Yeah, I’m getting a little cold out here now." The nurse rubbed her arms with her gloved hands. "Maybe some hot chocolate would help defrost my frozen bones."" Danni bent over to release her bindings and shoulder her skis, the tiny poles dangling from her wrists by the straps attached to them.

"Hey, Danni, you might want to keep an eye out for some of the others who are coming up. I think you might enjoy seeing one in particular." Rosie was being coy as she taunted her fellow nurse. She knew whom it was that she had invited explicitly for the purpose of giving Danni something to think about. The sassy nurse waved, and together with her group, headed for the chairlifts.

"Mom?" The word was drawn out as Danni looked sternly at the woman.

Shaking her head, Karen feigned all knowledge of anything that Rosie had arranged. "I have no idea, Danni, honest." She shrugged and started off after the rest of the group calling out to them as she walked. "Hey, wait up for the old lady."

***

The snow had been coming down more heavily by the time the presentation was over. It had been a good one with many of the ski patrol interested in exactly when the use of the Flight Surgeon Team would be warranted.

Danni turned in search of their pilot when she was met by a cold biting wind as it swept down off the mountain. The leather jacket kept her upper torso and arms from the stinging cold but the Gore-Tex material of the flight suit was no match for it. "Brrrrrrr!" She quickly turned with her back to the wind. The nurse grabbed for the door of the helicopter, opened it and climbed inside. "Jeez! Is it cold!" She was thankful for the shelter out of the wind.

Looking around as she tried to warm her body by rubbing it, she saw the drawn look of the pilot as he was studying his charts. "Hey, Cowboy! We going to be able to go home or what?" Her eyes were hopeful as she waited for his reply.

Cowboy rubbed his chin with his right hand as he thought for a moment. "Don’t rightly think that would be a good thing to do now. The wind’s a little more than I would like to be flying in. Talk about some turbulence now," he chuckled, "we’d be like a dandelion seed cast out on the warm summer air."

"Guess we’re spending the night then, aren’t we?"

"Yep, looks that way."

A chill swept through the inside of the helicopter as the door opened and a tall form climbed in. "Whew! That’s a little cold out there." The surgeon settled into her customary seat. "Stuck for the night, aren’t we?" She posed her question to her teammates.

The nurse and the pilot slowly nodded their heads while their faces turned into beaming smiles at the prospective of being down for the night. Within seconds the giggling started as Danni reached for her small bag of clothing and Garrett grabbed her duffel. They looked up to the pilot.

"Hey, I told you I always have extra socks. What do you think I carry in that flight case?" He laughed as he pointed to the large bag that was to carry all of his maps and navigational tools. "I don’t need much room for a map of the Tri-state area. Got to keep them from bouncing around somehow. You ever try reading off of a dog-eared page?"

Garrett shook her head at the antics of the pilot. "Only you, Cowboy, only you."

"Well, I for one vote that we get out of these Flight suits and relax a little, what do you say?" The young nurse was feeling excited. "I wonder if any of the people from work are staying over. I know that some of them did last year."

"Speaking of staying over, I think we better go and see about getting some rooms." The surgeon patted her zippered pocket holding her wallet. "Never leave home without one." She unzipped the pocket and pulled out her ever-present credit card. "I’ll take care of the rooms." Garrett winked and threw open the door, heading for the main lodge.

"Hey! Wait up for me." Danni was scrambling out the door.

***

The late hour and the weather conditions on the mountain had sealed their fate, just like most of the skiers there. The best that Garrett was able to muster even with the corporate clout of the hospital and the medivac company behind her, was a single room for the night. The harried desk clerk had apologized but there was nothing more that he could offer to them, aside from sleeping in the halls or lounges warmed by the ever-glowing wood stacked fireplaces of the resort.

The surgeon looked down at the single set of keys that she held in her hand. ‘Well, at least we got a room.’ She turned away from the desk and looked over to her crew. ‘I’ve shared less space with guys on the submarine. Besides, it’s only for a night.’ Garrett took in a breath and shrugged her shoulders as she walked over to her team.

"So what did you get us? What floor are we on? Oh…." Danni looked up at Garrett her eyes twinkling like a child’s on Christmas morning. "Or did you get us a cabin, instead?"

"Hmm…." Garrett thought for a moment, "A room, the second and sorry, no." She watched the twinkle slowly fading from Danni’s gaze as the petite woman slowly associated the words to her earlier questions.

Then the green eyes flashed with a new brilliance as her eagerness bubbled over into her speech; "You got us a suite!"

"No, sorry, just a room. It’s all that they had left." Garrett felt bad that she had to burst the child-like excitement of her friend.

"Hey, at least we won’t have to sleep in the helicopter." Danni, the eternal optimist, tried to make light of the situation at hand. "What do you say we get rid of our bags and get changed while we’re at it."

Cowboy looked around. "You ladies go on. I’m going to get me a cup of java and warm up a bit first over there by the fire."

Garrett handed him one of the room keys. "Then take this, you’ll need it to get into the room."

"Thanks, Doc. I’ll see you a little later at dinner."

***

The sound of metal interacting with metal could faintly be heard as Garrett turned the key, unlocking the door to their room. Standing at the threshold, both women stood peering into the blackness, each one conjuring up in their own mind what they hoped the room would hold.

Danni’s head swam with thoughts of soft candlelight and gentle sounds of intimate mirth brought on by the shared revelations of emotions long held in. She closed her eyes tightly, offering a prayer that they would not be met with rejection as she took that first step into the unknown. Her right hand slowly inched along the wall on the left side of the doorframe in search of the switch as she leaned further into the room. The nurse’s mind thought about how much time she had spent in the dark to her own feelings. Now, could she illuminate the room and possibly what was to become of this newfound life of hers all at the same time. One, hopefully, that would include the dark-haired woman next to her as well.

Danni’s fingers felt the switch as she accidentally turned it on. The glaring brilliance of the light caused her to squint in an effort to shield her eyes, just like her mind had shielded her growing up. Never once had she thought of a woman as she did now. Why all of a sudden was there a change? Was it her or was it fate that had finally taken the nurse’s blinders off? It was like seeing a marvelous jewel for the first time, dazzling the eye and tempting the senses.

Slowly the radiance dulled, revealing a typically set up hotel room, complete with a large king-sized bed and a small love seat off to one side. Danni thought about her own queen-sized bed at home and how she made use of all of its abundant space. ‘Hmmm…guess it will be big enough for the two of us…well, maybe if we get real close.’ She giggled to herself at that thought. Her head turned enough to take the tall woman next to her into her view. Out of the corner of Danni’s eye, she could see the thoughtful expression etched on the surgeon’s face. ‘I guess I’d feel the same way if I liked having my own space all the time. Maybe I could…’

"Mind if I take the bathroom first?" Garrett threw her duffel bag down on the desk along the wall.

The voice startled Danni out of her thoughts. "No, go ahead. I’ll just get my things ready."

The tall woman nodded then moved into the bathroom and closed the door.

The nurse sighed deeply and ambled over to the other side of the bed. "Now, let’s see what’s in store for the night." She plunked her bag down on the huge bed, removed her leather jacket, and started to assemble her clothing to change into.

Garrett stood looking into the mirror, her face showing signs of disappointment. "Well, at least we have a room." Her voice was not very enthusiastic. "I’ve shared before." ‘Space, Gar, that’s all you’ve ever shared with anyone,’ the little voice crept into her brain. She let her hand wash over her face trying to rub away the guilt of never really being able to let another human get close to her. It had been so simple before, why wasn’t it now? What had changed to make her even feel guilty now? "Maybe if I freshen up I’ll feel better." The surgeon lingered, trying to make herself feel more at ease with her own reflection until she finally gave up with a shake of her head. ‘I’ll just get my toiletry bag.’ She reached for the doorknob and slipped out into the next room.

The surgeon grasped her duffel and quickly untied the flap. Grabbing the small bag that she used for her call nights, Garrett turned and caught an eyeful as she stopped abruptly. A few seconds was all that it took for the tall woman to become embarrassed that she was seeing her friend in the act of dressing. Slack jawed and mesmerized she stood there, unable to move, her hand holding tightly onto the toiletry bag.

The petite nurse hadn’t heard the door open as she started to slide her jeans on over her sock-covered feet. Tugging at the waistband of the jeans, she extended her left leg allowing the denim to slide up along the curve of her calf. The strong musculature of her legs was becoming evident in her actions as she shifted from side to side, the soft faded material inching over them easily. The higher up the material rose, the more it clung to the underlying form that held it in place.

Danni straightened up, letting her gaze sweep upward from the bed that she was facing. There, across the room, she locked gazes with blue eyes that were transfixed on her. The exchange of information was inevitable from one to the other as longing haunted each of them in the recesses of their minds. Within seconds, Danni realized that she was standing there, practically nude and facing the woman that was gnawing at her very soul.

The blush of embarrassment started as Danni thought about the lace trimmed underwear that she had brought along, hoping that Garrett would see her in. She’d changed into them and now her wishes had come true. Her presence of mind was coming back to her as she quickly turned her back to the tall woman.

Garrett could sense the embarrassment as she watched the woman suddenly turn in an attempt of modesty. Or was it? Now, the surgeon could clearly see the full contour of the nurse's buttocks as revealed by the almost non-existent thong. The blue eyes watched as the rear portion of the waistband snuggled just under the smooth looking skin of the petite woman’s derriere.

It was at that exact moment that Danni realized she was now giving more of a show than she was before. ‘By the gods!’ Danni paused only momentarily before she hurriedly shifted the material, allowing it to slink smoothly over the posterior portion of her body falling into place at her waist. She sighed at her own thoughtlessness as she fumbled with the button. ‘What’s she going to think of me now? I must look like some floozy to her.’ Danni grabbed for her sweater and held it up to her chest as she turned to look back at her stunned friend. Her eyes opened to see no one. Darting from corner to corner she searched for the tall familiar form only to find it gone. The sound of bathroom door closing stopped her from hunting any further.

"Damn!" The nurse spun around and crumpled down on the edge of the bed. "I wonder what she’s thinking about me now?" Danni slowly pulled the sweater over her head, then sat there with her elbows resting on her knees, her head in her hands.

Garrett stared at the wall opposite the door. Her left hand held tightly onto the doorknob for fear the wave of emotions that had met her out there would demand entrance to continue their barrage of her soul. Her breathing was somewhat labored as she fought to calm her racing heart. She looked to her left at the reflection in the mirror. The clothing was the same as before, but for some reason, the woman seemed different. Her mind searched for the correct word to describe her feelings. Then it came to her. The word was…scared. The surgeon’s pallor was far from her normal golden-hued skin. It was as if she had seen a glimpse of some long forgotten treasure that had been hers in a previous life, the ghost of which still haunted her soul.

Jumbled thoughts ran rapid. The cool level head of the surgeon was nowhere to be found. She released the doorknob and turned to face her image in the mirror. Leaning forward, her shoulders slumped as she locked her elbows and caught herself on the counter top of the vanity, her hands wrapping around the edge for support. Blue eyes gazed blankly at her likeness trying to find something that would clear her mind and bring it back to the world that she knew well, the world of self control.

‘You’re an accomplished surgeon, not some medical student. You’ve seen hundreds…no…thousands of human bodies in all forms of disrobe.’ Garrett peered deep into her own eyes, the windows to her soul. ‘What makes this one any different than the rest?’ She watched, breathlessly, then it came to her. ‘Danni…it was Danni.’

The petite blonde was in a quandary. ‘Do I say something to Gar, perhaps I should tell her of my feelings for her or just let it go and make like it was no big deal?’ Danni closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. ‘This sure wasn’t how I imagined the night to be.’ She thought for a moment, then decide her course of action. Nothing! She’d just pretend that it was no big deal. With that thought in her mind, the young woman got up and walked to the bathroom, pausing only for a moment to look at the closed door that separated them. ‘Jeez, Gar, I didn’t mean to scare you.’ Danni bit at her lip, then nodded and went out the door. She was now resigned to accept whatever treatment she received from Garrett. Hopefully they would still be friends.

***

Garrett stood at the bottom of the stairs surveying the crowd of stranded skiers. The ski lodge was busy with patrons that were letting the weather outside give them reason to eat, drink and be merry. After all, what else was there left to do in the near whiteout condition?

Stepping around to the other side of the stairway, the tall surgeon looked, desperately trying to find the petite blonde. Not seeing her, Garrett began to worry. ‘ I wonder if I embarrassed her more than I thought? Maybe I should get Cowboy and…’ That’s when she heard the laughter and jeers. She knew that voice and turned a little more just in time to see Rosie teasing everyone around her as she readied to chug a glass of beer. Garrett rolled her eyes and in doing so, noticed the name of the area that she was entering into, the Foggy Goggle.

Making her way over to the group, Garrett saw Danni seated between Rosie and a young man that looked vaguely familiar to her. For a moment, the surgeon thought that she knew him but then decided she didn’t.

Trying not to stare, the surgeon let her gaze take in the whole area. This part of the ski lodge was arranged with small, round, green tables, each one with seating for four. The normal array of neon beer logos hung from the rafters, each one lighting the way to the large fancy ‘U’ shaped unstained pine bar complete with stools. It was obvious which beers were the ones of choice in this establishment, Coors, Bud, Miller’s, and of course, the hometown favorite, I.C. Lite hung directly over the table that the D.J. was sitting at.

The lighting was dim at best without the bright sun coming in the large expanse of windows that lined the walls, all giving excellent views of the slopes on the Front Face of the mountain. The night gave way to the more moodily lit tiffany-styled shades with their low wattage bulbs. This wing of the lodge was now ready for the soft whispers and the tingle of emotions that the consumed alcohol would bring. It was by rights, your typical bar or meeting spot of the young and single crowd.

Danni picked up her glass to take a sip of the rum and coke that had been so graciously ordered for her. ‘I can’t believe David remembered what I had last year.’ She smiled at him and sipped once more before setting the glass down on the table. Looking up, she saw the tall form of Garrett approaching the group. "Hey," her eyes softened with a friendly glow, "Gar, over here." The petite woman waved her hand to signal her friend. Once Danni made sure that the surgeon was coming towards her, she hastily looked for somewhere to set her at the group of tables. Seeing that there were two empty chairs across the tables and down a few spaces from her, Danni motioned for Garrett to have a seat.

The surgeon took her time getting to it, not knowing quite how to act toward Danni. ‘I better play this one by ear. However she treats me…that’s what I’ll return.’ Garrett eyed the chair as she pulled it out from under the table and sat down. Looking around the collection of tables, the surgeon picked out several people that she didn’t know. Studying the close proximity that they had with a staff member next to them, Garrett reasoned that they were either mates or dates of the people she knew. Her eyes wondered over to Danni and the young man sidled up to the nurse’s side. ‘I wonder who he is…and what he is to Danni?’

The group from the E.R. was all talking at pretty much the same time. The constant chattering seemed to be about the events of the day on the slopes outside. Garrett sat and listened to the stories until she felt as though someone was staring at her. Turning slowly to her left, the surgeon looked to the empty chair that had been next to her. There, to her surprise, was Ian McCormick sitting back in the chair with his hands resting on a tall glass of beer and a smile leering at his lips.

"I’ve had enough skiing for one day," Rosie announced, "It’s time to dance." She jumped up and headed toward the D.J. and the small open area for dancing. "Who’s coming with me?" She yelled at the group, "Mom, Danni, come on. David, pull that nurse up and bring her out here."

Not wanting to have anymore attention drawn to herself, Danni obligingly got up from her seat and followed David to the dance floor where the fast beat music was playing.

"I see you saved a seat for me, Dr. Trivoli. Could it mean that you’ve decided to thank me for the little weekend that I’ve arranged for your team?" Ian began to let his gaze move up and down her body as his head motioned to Danni. "I thought that maybe you girls were working a little too hard lately and needed…shall we say…a little fun." His eyebrows wiggled causing the lines in his forehead to follow suit, rippling nearly up to the top of his baldhead.

The words caught Garrett off guard. Now, things were coming to light. Ian had arranged this rendezvous with a little down time to make a little time himself. The coy smile of the surgeon was hidden from the man. She needed to see how far she could go without tipping her hand. ‘Two can play this game, Ian and I’d say that you’ve met your match, if not better.’

The tall woman pulled her chair just a tad closer to the physician, hoping he would see it as an attempt of letting her intentions to be known. Garrett glanced at him, then out onto the dance floor where Danni filled her view.

The surgeon sat there for a while watching the smooth movements of her young friend as the music beat a rhythm that made you want to move right along with it. Danni looked happy and carefree as she moved in conjunction with the man that seemed to know every step she was about to take.

"So, tell me, Dr. McCormick, how easy was it to get McMurray to agree to this." Garrett used her hand to motion to the group and the lodge. "I’m sure you just didn’t tell him what your agenda was, now did you?"

Ian chuckled. "That old man has no idea what’s really going on. He’s set in his ways, doesn’t know what us young people are all about."

Garrett raised her eyebrow at that idea. ‘Remember how the saying goes, Ian. It’s the young and beautiful people.’ She eyed his bald head, swearing that she could see the reflection of the tiffany shade above them in it. She looked casually out to the dance floor once again, her eyes quickly finding Danni. She watched the movement of the nurse’s torso, finally allowing herself to concentrate on the derriere as it was now facing her. The memory of cream colored lace was still fresh in her mind.

"So, you think you know what it is that the younger bunch is looking for, eh?" Garrett let her eyes drift off to him without moving her head. "Tell me, what is it that we need right about now."

"Say, why don’t you let me get you a drink?" He winked at her as he began to rise. "Beer, or would you like a drink with a little more kick? I’m going to get myself another shot and a beer." Ian leaned over her shoulder to whisper in her ear. "You know, you are down for the night, why not just let yourself go and enjoy."

Garrett fought hard not to get angered at this last statement. Putting on a sickening smile, the surgeon turned her head to whisper right back at him. "Humor me. I can be just as relaxed drinking coffee. Besides, you wouldn’t want me to not be able to remember it later, now would you?"

Ian’s face lit up. "Coffee, anything special in it?" His eyes were aglow with licentious thoughts.

Garrett smirked as she thought about her young friend on the dance floor. "Yeah, I’ll have a little cream with that."

It felt good to be dancing. It was the one thing that Danni ever enjoyed that her mother had thought of as a necessary requirement for all young girls. The long hours spent practicing paid off in situations like this one. The teasing was a lot less if you only took a little bit of coaxing to get up and dance than it did if they had to drag you out of your chair.

The entire time that Danni was up there dancing, she tried to position herself in such a manner that she would be able to keep an eye on the tall surgeon still seated at the table. At one point when the music stopped, Rosie drew Danni’s attention toward the more than civil appearing conversation happening between Garrett and Ian.

"What’s with those two anyway?" It actually looked like they were getting along for once and Rosie just had to comment on it.

Danni immediately spun around to see what she was missing. That’s when she saw Ian lean over, whispering into Garrett’s ear. Danni held her breath, waiting to see the sparks fly but they never did. Instead, Garrett reciprocated the whisper with one of her own, which sent McCormick scurrying off to the bar. ‘Huh?’ " Maybe she’s just being nice in front of everyone."

"I don’t know. They always say that the ones that protest too much end up being strange bedfellows. You think maybe her and McCormick…" Rosie wiggled her eyebrows, "will you know…do the tango under the sheets tonight?"

Danni looked at Rosie then at the dark-haired surgeon and shook her head. ‘Great, that’s all I need. I finally fall in love with someone and lose her to the likes of Ian McCormick.’ "I’d be surprised."

"Yeah, well rumor has it that’s why you got grounded up here today. Ian arranged for his girls to have some "fun" time. He’s the one who told me to invite David up."

Danni stopped and turned in the direction that her hand was being tugged. David had her and was leading her back towards the dance floor. "May I have this next dance?" As if it had been cued to start at that exact moment, the slow and mellow music filtered across the air. Danni obliged him as she stepped up and laid her hands on his body just like she’d been taught so many years ago. With her head resting on his shoulder, the nurse kept a wary eye on her tall friend, praying that Rosie was wrong.

David let the music set his pace for conversation. Slowly he talked of little things to bring Danni’s mind back on to him and the times that they had shared in the E.R. He wanted her to know that he valued her friendship above all else. It was with that in mind that he ventured into the discussion of having a room all to himself for the night. Then without warning the words took Danni by surprise. "Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t you stay in my room tonight? We’re friends aren’t we? We could just talk about old times and get reacquainted. What do you say?"

Danni let him spin her around as she thought about what he was saying, but her mind only could see what was going on back at the tables with Garrett and Ian.

The two nemeses had gotten physically closer, the bald head of the physician contrasting with the shoulder length raven-hair of the surgeon. Each one waiting for just the right time to spring their trap on the other. Ian lifted his shotglass, draining it once more then quickly followed it with the chaser of beer. He wanted to build up his courage before he would tangle with the demanding surgeon. He reached into his pocket and dangled the key in front of Garrett.

The surgeon’s eyes twinkled with the dangling key dancing in front of her face. She snatched the key with her hand and held onto it. Ian’s eyes bugged out in shock. It was as if the tall woman was actually eager about sharing the night with him.

The physician began to rise from his chair, only to be pulled down by Garrett’s strong hand on his arm. Garrett leaned in closer to whisper as she juggled the key so that the soft metal on metal sound could be heard. The surgeon wink as she released his arm. Ian slowly nodded. He looked around making sure that no one was in earshot of their plans, then went back to his glass of beer.

Danni stood in disbelief as she watched her friend get up and slowly walk away from the table and Ian McCormick. ‘What is she doing? Danni girl, she’s doing what Rosie said she would, playing with the big fish, not some little minnow like you.’

***

Still dressed in his Flight suit, Cowboy was lounging in the main lodge by one of the open fireplaces, sipping on a cup of java. The man was relaxing as he listened to the world revolving around him, lost in a trance of days gone by. The surgeon watched him for a minute or two before approaching.

"Guess you didn’t make it to the room yet, eh?" Garrett pointed to his clothing.

A slow toothy grin spread across his face. "Nah, figured I’d give you two enough time to do whatever it is that women do when they change clothes."

He chuckled then winked. "So what’s the sleeping arrangements, Doc, shifts or floor?"

"Hey, I can’t have my pilot sleeping on the floor. Seems that Dr. McCormick arranged this little free time for us and he’s so graciously given me his room key." Garrett withdrew it from her jean’s pocket and dangled it in front of her face. "He didn’t think that he should be sharing it with a nurse and his implication was that he was more interested in someone of a higher capability." She tossed the key in his direction. "I figured since you were flying all the time, he meant you." She winked. "I told him that the door would be open for him and he could get into the room in about an hour."

Cowboy rolled his eyes and laughed. "You expect me to sleep with that idiot instead of you?"

"No, more like in my place." Garrett shook her head. "He thinks this little girl can’t wait to be with him. I’d get there first and take the bed, if I were you, that’ll leave him to the love seat in the other room."

The pilot did a half salute and started to get up. "Gotcha, Doc. Here, I won’t be needing this then." He handed her his room key. "You and the lil’ one get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning."

"Night, Cowboy." ‘Okay, McCormick, let’s see how you feel about sharing your bed with someone now.’ The tall woman chuckled and sat down in the place that the pilot had vacated, waiting to see Ian get the elevators up to his suite. ‘Hmmm…I sure hope he don’t bust in calling Cowboy his little girl.’

***

It wasn’t long before Garrett had seen what she was waiting for. Apparently Ian had bolstered his courage more than he needed with a few more rounds of drinks. The telltale unsteadiness of his gait and the time spent in making a decision on which button to push for the elevator was a dead give away to the trained eye. ‘Yep, that will do you. With all that alcohol on board he’ll be lucky to make it to the room let alone try to do anything to disrupt Cowboy’s sleep.’ The surgeon chuckled to herself. "Say nighty-night, Dr. McCormick."

Now, it was imperative that she found Danni and get to the room, far away from the wrath of McCormick when he found Cowboy in her place. The woman made her way back down to the Foggy Goggle. The numbers of people were dwindling as the hour grew later. Several of the hospital staff had already headed to their rooms when Garrett saw Danni sitting at the table without David at her side. The young nurse looked pensive as she played with her half empty glass.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Danni was startled by the familiar voice. "Huh?" She turned to see who it was. ‘Gar, what are you doing here. I thought you and Ian…’

"Hey, you coming to bed or are you going to party all night?" Garrett motioned toward the nurse’s drink.

"I…ah…" Danni’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Could she really be asking me that question?’ "Why don’t you go ahead and enjoy the bed. I’ll just stay up and talk to David."

Garrett studied her friend. "David? How do you know David? I mean, I don’t remember seeing him around the hospital."

"You’ve seen him before, Gar. He was the Chief that handed off to you on your first day at the hospital. Remember?"

"Oh, guess that’s why I thought he looked a little familiar."

"Gar, I know how you like your space, and one less in that room will help."

"What are you saying, Danni?"

"David offered to let me share his room tonight. I just figured that you and…"

"Whoa, wait a minute." Garrett’s face turned serious. "The only one I’m sharing a room with tonight is you. Cowboy’s sharing a suite with Ian." She glanced down at her watch. "Although McCormick doesn’t know that yet." Blue eyes looked deep into green as she conveyed her sentiment.

"I thought you and Ian…"

"Yeah, well, so did he. Let me tell you, you’re both mistaken." The surgeon smiled. "Now what do you say we go sack out? Never know when we might be called upon with that storm out there."

The nurse pushed her drink away and rose from her chair. "Yeah, well, I hope you got a dog sled and a team of dogs, cause their ain’t nothing else getting through out there tonight."

"Ah…sorry, they’re in my other duffel bag." Garrett teased. "You want to let David know where you’re going?"

Danni looked over to the bar where David was conversing to someone he knew as he waited on another drink. "I guess, maybe I should."

"What are you going to tell him?"

Danni thought for a moment then let the one side of her mouth edge upward into a smile. "I’ll tell him the truth." She shrugged her shoulders. "You go home with the one that brought you." She teased.

***

Ian tiptoed into the dimly lit room. There, over the back of a chair was laid the Flight suit. It’s reflective tape showing in the dark. The long form in the bed caused the physician’s mind to race with anticipation. ‘Hmm…she’s resting up for the long night ahead.’ He eased himself down on the bed, being just a tad unsteady from an evening of drinking and started to take off his shoes when the sound of snoring became quit evident. ‘I guess she’s a snorer.’ He shrugged his shoulders, ‘I wonder if she’s as vocal in the heat of passion?’ Then continued with his disrobing.

Ian could feel the perspiration building up on his brow and took the shirt that he had just removed and wiped his forehead, stretching up onto his head. ‘Maybe I should catch a little sleep first before we get down to business. I think that alcohol is getting to me.’ And with that thought, the physician slipped under the covers and fell fast asleep, adding his own harmony to the music of the night.

***

The elevator door opened and the two women stepped off in mid conversation.

"Gar, I said that I could sleep on the love seat."

"Nope, you’re small but not that small. You’ll never be able to stretch out and relax."

"Well, I’ll sleep on the floor then. You can have the bed."

Garrett slid the key into the lock and turned it. "Danni, there’s more than enough room in a king size bed for the two of us. End of discussion." She opened the door and stepped inside, waiting for her friend to follow her.

Danni knew that she had nothing left to argue with. "Okay, but you pick which side you want then." She walked over to her overnight bag and started to rummage through it for her bedclothes.

The surgeon closed the door and locked it, making sure the security latch was in place. ‘I wonder if McCormick’s figured out that I’m not in bed with him yet?’ "Danni, why don’t you take the bathroom first."

"Okay." The nurse gathered up her things and headed into the small room. "Don’t worry, it won’t take me long." She turned on the light and pulled the door closed.

The tall woman looked at the bed. ‘Does it really matter what side?’ Her eyes traveled to the far side of the bed where all of Danni’s things were laid out. "I guess that’s her favorite side." The lopsided smile shone brightly as she went to the left side of the bed and pulled down the covers. ‘And this is my favorite side. What a team.’

With the precision of the Navy behind her, not to mention many nights on call, Garrett efficiently stripped off her jeans and sweater, laying them out for quick access. She reached into her duffel bag and pulled out her clothing for the night, one pair of silk boxers and a thin strapped tank top and proceeded to dress for bed.

The nurse emerged from the bathroom with her jeans and sweater tucked neatly under her arm. As she turned the corner into the larger part of the room she caught a glimpse of long legs slipping under the covers. Trying to steady her mind, Danni clutched at her clothing a little harder as her head turned to see the rest of the body that was attached to the legs. The large expanses of flesh caught her eyes immediately and stuck in her head.

It took her a minute, but finally she was able to get the words out. "I’m…I’m…" she stuttered, "ah…done. Yeah, I’m…ah…done in the bathroom, if you need it." ‘Great, Danni, you sound like an idiot.’ The blonde rolled her eyes.

"Thanks, but I won’t need it." Garrett snuggled down under the covers then looked back over to Danni. "You’d better get some rest, who knows what could happen during the night."

"Yeah, who knows?" Danni shook her head in disbelief. ‘Does she realize what this is doing to me or is she just teasing me, unmercifully?’ The nurse made her way to the other side of the large bed, then put her clothing away before she sat down on the turned down covers for a restful night. She sat there for a moment before she proceeded to remove her shoes and got in under the covers, clinging desperately to the very edge of her allotted side of the bed. ‘Rest? How can I rest with her just a few feet away from me and under the same covers, too?’

Garrett reached out from the covers and turned off the light next to her side of the bed. "Night, Danni." She nestled down into the pillow, waiting for sleep to overcome her.

Sighing, Danni picked up her feet and carefully pulled the covers over them as she lay back on the bed. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling for a moment until it registered with her brain that she needed to turn off the light. Rolling over, she stretched out just enough to flip the lever on the light switch and then the room was black. Sinking down into the bed, Danni rolled up on her side and grabbed onto the edge of the mattress like a ship moored at a dock. It wasn’t long before the events of the day had brought her sleep with a welcoming grin.

***

The dream was becoming more and more real with each minute that went by. The young woman was trying desperately to free herself of the burden that had been placed upon her. It was as though she was in a small box with the walls closing in on her. Given a chance, Danni swore that they had arms and legs that reached out and grabbed on to her in a vice-like grip.

Gradually the walls of the box cleared and she was able to call out, but no one was listening to her pleas for help. Each passer-by only took whatever he wanted from around her and continued on without a single word. They acted as though it wasn’t her time yet to be noticed.

Danni struggled to wake up and as she did, her imagination gave way to reality. She was, indeed, being held down by arms and legs cast over and around her body. At one point in her foggy mind, she imagined herself with more than her allotted amount of appendages. Cold sweat broke out on the young woman’s forehead. She was working hard to rid herself of the weighty problem when she finally realized that her dream had been brought on by the tall surgeon who was sharing the bed with her. Only then did her wild and strained movements stop for fear of waking the woman wrapped around her.

Not wanting to embarrass her friend, Danni slowly and methodically eased herself out from under the death grip. Once back on her side of the bed, she sat looking at the woman next to her, still asleep and unaware of what was going on. Thankful for that small favor, the petite nurse grabbed on to the edge of the mattress, vowing to stay to her side. As she drifted back to sleep, Danni committed the dream to her memory, not wanting to awaken her team member by turning on the light to find paper and a pen to write it down. It was definitely one that needed to be logged in her journal at home.

***

Garrett struggled to breathe. The world seemed to be pressing down on her, keeping her in place for some odd reason. It was as if she needed to be here in this space and time for her destiny to come to her.

The keen mind of the surgeon tried to grasp at her surroundings with all of her senses, using each and every one of them to help her. Her body could feel the warmth exuding from the force that held her down, its moist heat coming off like the settling warmth of a cup of hot tea. Inhaling as deeply as she was able to, Garrett tried to savor the unique scent of softness reaching out to her in the night with such an essence of purity that it kept her fear from surfacing.

Garrett was able to breathe now, as the weight on her began to shift and new sensations brought her body closer to being fully awakened. The rhythmic feel of heat gently encompassing her left breast acting like a lover’s tender caress, both stimulating and relaxing at the same time. The surgeon found her body wanting to sink into that realm where everything is an elusion to the perversity of what was real. Letting her mind savor those sensations, Garrett turned to her keen sense of hearing for more information. There, in the dead silence of the lumbering night, the almost nonexistent sound of childlike snoring could be heard. It was then that she knew she was not alone.

The gentle exploration of her right hand as it swept from its resting-place at her side touched warm, soft and supple flesh. The kind that would bring a smile to your face as images of newborn babies flashed across your mind. She wasn’t quite awake yet but knew that what she was feeling could change her outlook on life as she knew it. Like a new beginning, it beckoned her.

The dark-haired woman fought through the last remnants of her dream-like state, she needed to know what it was that was having such a pleasant effect on her night. Her eyes struggled to open, then focus on the form intertwined with her own. The dim light of the very early morning only cast enough brightness that she could barely make out the silhouetted form next to her, hints of gold casting about its head.

Slowly, looking from side to side, she realized that she had not invaded the young woman’s area, but rather met in the middle, each one acting as a bridge to the other’s side. Thoughts of staying there, in that world of comfort soon drifted by as Garrett dutifully slipped out from under the young blonde’s leg. Sliding out from under the covers, Garrett wiped her face with her hand as she got out of bed to answer the needs of her body.

***

The first real rays of light drifted in around the drawn window coverings, as Cowboy got rolled up on one elbow and looked over to the lump of human flesh that was on the far side of the huge bed. Smiling to himself, the pilot had to give the Doc credit for her idea. ‘He’s never going to realize that he slept with me instead of her. Hmmm…that gives me an idea of my own.’ The skivvies-clad man crawled out of bed, put on his boots and headed into the bathroom with his shave kit in hand.

It wasn’t long after the door closed that Ian’s sleepy form rolled over to face the now empty half of the bed. Feeling for the warmth of a long sensuous body, his hand came up empty. His blood-shot eye opened, revealing the thrown back covers and rumpled sheeting where the warm body had been only moments before.

The sound of water running in the shower now trickled through Ian McCormick’s mind. He imagined himself a drop of water rolling over the soft skin and ample curves of Garrett Trivoli. His eyes darted to the chair that he remembered the Flight Suit had been on. Seeing it still there, Ian sighed. Yes, she’d have to come out to get dressed and he’d be able to view what he dreamt of often. Ah! Life was good.

The physician rolled on to his back, the thought of nights to remember flirting with his mind, and drifted off into a world of dreams.

Cowboy emerged from the bathroom, quickly dressed and grabbed his flight case from under the desk in the sitting room of the suite. Setting the case down on the chair, he pulled open the drawer and removed a piece of the complimentary stationary and penned a brief note. Folding the paper in half, the pilot scribbled ‘McDoc’ on the front and left it there with the room key for Ian to find. Being careful not to make too much noise, Cowboy picked up his case and exited, pulling the door shut as he left.

***

The dream came to her only seconds before she woke. Its snippet of vision was not a vision at all but rather a feeling that her world was as it should be…or was that as it used to be? The strong arms that held her tightly in her dream were like vigilant sentinels standing guard over her heart while the lush green of the forest that surrounded, cradled them both with its moss covered ground, acting like a velvet blanket for them to lay on. Her world seemed complete with the soft refrain of the birds’ overhead and the antics of the small creatures that watched over them. They were alone with each other, sheltered from any that would do them harm.

Her thoughts were a jumble of confusion as she fought to stay with the dream for as long as she could, never wanting it to end. Perhaps that is why Danni couldn’t believe she was lying there awake. The same feeling that she had in the dream, she was feeling now. It was like all the love in the world was being self-contained in her very own soul. ‘By the Gods, what I would give to have this all the time. I’ve got to remember this one.’ She sighed, thinking that it had been quite a while since that last journal entry of hers. The nurse could picture the worn book, still on her nightstand next to her bed at home. ‘Who would have thought that I’d have a dream after all this time.’

The lone blue orb peered out into the morning’s dim light. The soft blurring of blonde hair was in front of her face. Slowly Garrett began taking stock of the wonderfully restful sensation that she was a part of, her body spooned up against the petite woman lying next to her. Each body seemingly fit like a piece of a puzzle, one to the other with no areas left untouched.

The surgeon could feel the gentle stirring of Danni as she came out of her world of dreams. Garrett’s hazed state made her slow to react, knowing that her arm now encircled the nurse and held her tightly, denying any thought of letting her go.

Each woman laid there, basking in the warmth of human contact, not wanting to draw the other’s attention to the fact that they were enjoying the moment. The seconds grew to a minute, then lingered even longer letting time be a measure unto itself.

The sound of the ringing phone in the room had startled both into a frenzied separation of their bodies. Their eyes avoided each other for fear of their friend’s embarrassment. Danni, rolling off to her edge of the mattress while Garrett moved to put a stop to the ringing of the phone.

"Hello!" The surgeon voice was crisp and clear, meaning nothing but business.

Danni sat on the bed, her heart racing like a wild animal. ‘She’s going to know for sure now.’ The nurse stole a glance over her shoulder. ‘I can’t believe that I…she…’ Her eyes got bigger. ‘That we were laying there like that.’

The nurse could hear words but nothing was making sense to her. Just the thoughts running through her mind and the pressing need to write down her dreams that seemed to be grasped by her mind. Danni’s eyes roamed the room in search of something, anything that she could use. ‘The desk! There has to be something there.’ The petite woman got up and went to it.

Within the time it took Garrett to complete her phone call, Danni had finished recording her dreams. ‘One day, I know these will make sense to somebody.’ Danni kept her back turned when she heard Garrett hanging up the phone. She wasn’t ready to see the look on Garrett’s face.

"That was Cowboy!"

The nurse kept her pen going in a mock writing motion while she answered. "Hmmm?"

"He wants us to get ready to leave. Seems like there is going to be a brief window of opportunity to fly in about 30 minutes."

"Okay, I’ll take the bathroom first." Danni rose from the chair and grabbed her Flight Suit off of the hanger. "I’ll be done in just a few." She entered the bathroom and closed the door.

Garrett got out of the bed and paced the room briefly, not knowing whether to be the first to say something or not. She could see that Danni was obviously upset by the situation. "Damn, I don’t want to lose this friendship," she muttered under her breath and she knew what she had to do.

Danni vacated the bathroom to see Garrett’s duffel bag packed except for her toiletry bag, and the woman herself already dressed in her Flight Suit. The surgeon brushed past her as she grabbed her small bag and entered the empty room. The sound of the door locking behind her made the nurse feel as though she was having an important part of her life taken away. She felt herself being closed off, her lungs crying out for air, her heart ripping in two. ‘If only she would have left me sleep on the love seat or floor. I’d be sore but at least I wouldn’t hurt like this.’ Danni hung her head and slowly packed her bag, her eyes stealing glances at the king-size bed that they had shared.

The tall woman had been silent in her entry to the room. She stood there, watching the sullen nurse finish her packing. Stuffing her toiletry bag into the duffel and tying it shut, Garrett spoke softly. "Danni, I’m sorry for what happened earlier." She paused but the petite woman did not turn around or slow her efforts in packing. "I must have been dreaming. Honest, I didn’t mean anything by it."

The words echoed in Danni’s head, ‘Didn’t mean anything by it.’ It felt like a stake going through her heart each time it repeated itself. She closed her eyes and held onto the overnight bag, fighting the tears back. "Don’t worry about it." She picked up her bag and turned around to face her team member. The eye contact was only for a second but it hurt more than she thought. Hurriedly casting her eyes to the floor, she started for the door, "I’ll meet you at the helicopter," and was gone.

Garrett picked up her bag and followed the nurse, pausing at the open door to turn and gaze one last time at the rumpled blanket covered bed, then stepped out, closing the door behind her.

***

Ian McCormick walked out into the setting room when he spied the folded over paper on the desk. Picking it up, he studied the handwriting. "Gosh, you’d think for as well educated as we are, doctors would be able to write more legibly." The only word on the front was a strange one at that. "McDoc," he muttered then let the corners of his mouth edge into a smile. "Must be her pet name for me." He opened the sheet and began to read aloud, wanting to hear the words as if she were saying them. "Thanks for letting me rest before taking off to new heights." That was all there was, nothing more.

The sound of blades spinning in the thin mountain air as the helicopter readied for take off drew him to the window. Ian stood with the note still in his hand, watching the lift off begin. The slow motion of his waving hand was like a metronome to the song of the rotors as the ship flew out of sight.

***

Danni sat, buckled into her seat. Her close proximity to the surgeon was not an easy one to maintain but in the cramped quarters of the helicopter it was as far as she could get. The nurse could tell by the quietness of her team member that her time up in the air was going to be filled with lots of thought about what had happened between the two friends.

She closed her eyes, and tried to remember the feeling of her dream. Each time her mind brought the same image to her. Garrett…was all she could think about.

Chapter 7

Garrett didn’t know what to make of the mood that Danni had been in lately. They were still a team but something was missing. She just couldn’t put her finger on it. It was almost like a piece of the petite woman’s heart was taken away.

Ever since they had come back from the ski lodge, Danni seemed to be nothing but all business around the surgeon. Even Mom had noticed and commented to Garrett about it. The only thing that the surgeon knew was it all started with that overnight stay.

Often during the last three weeks, the dark-haired woman found herself just sitting there thinking of what she could have done or said that may have caused the change in Danni. Each time she was becoming more puzzled than the last. If only she could think of what it was, then perhaps she could correct it and they could once again have their comfortable friendship back.

Another thing that the surgeon was feeling baffled about was the pleasant attitude toward her by Dr. McCormick. It was the complete opposite of what she had expected, especially after that night at the ski lodge. Garrett wondered if perhaps there was something in the alcohol or food that Ian and Danni had partaken of. It was as if their attitudes had changed places toward her. The surgeon finally decided that she needed to talk to Cowboy and find out what happened in that room with Ian. Something had definitely changed him. Maybe if she could figure out what it was, it would give her some insight into Danni’s mood.

***

The tall surgeon rounded the corner just in time to see the pilot step out of his craft. The faint rays of the late February sun gave his metal boot tips a glimmer of reflected light. It was still cold but Cowboy refused to wear anything but his customary clothing, including the down ski vest with the insignia of the company on it. Garrett watched from the Trauma doors of the E.R. as he made his way into the hospital.

"Morning, Cowboy!"

"Morning to you, Doc. You know of a flight that I don’t?" He looked at her seriously for a minute then continued, "Or do you just need to talk?"

Garrett wet her lips, stalling for a moment then she closed her eyes, and sighed. "Talk is more like it." The woman looked around the busy hallway. "But not here. Do you have a minute or two?" Cowboy nodded. "Then let me buy you a cup of java. Come on." She motioned with her head for him to follow her as she moved down the hallway.

Cowboy had sensed that something was troubling Garrett and Danni both for the last week or so, maybe longer. He’d wanted to ask if he could help but chose wisely not too. The pilot had hoped that he was enough of a friend to the both of them that if they needed help or even just wanted to talk, they knew he’d be there for them.

Garrett opened the door to the E.R. Lounge and looked around the room. Nobody was there and the smell of fresh coffee filtered across the air. She crossed over to the large urn of liquid gold, the sustenance of the medical profession, coffee. The surgeon picked up the package of Styrofoam cups and offered one to the pilot. It was her way of making him feel at home. A lot was riding on this conversation and she didn’t want him thinking that she was going to interrogate the hell out of him.

With their cups of coffee in hand, each one stood quietly, sipping away and thinking until Cowboy finally started the conversation.

"Doc, something going on between you and that lil’ nurse?"

Garrett’s eyes flashed at him with an intensity of lightning bolts, her eyebrow raising almost into her hairline.

"I mean, stop me if I’m wrong, but you two just aren’t the same anymore. Like one of you is hurt or…I don’t know, but it’s just not right." He shook his head then sipped at his coffee some more. "I thought you two…" Cowboy stopped short, "well, it ain’t no business of mine either." His voice became a whisper.

Garrett looked him square in the eye, one military person to another. "What was it that you were going to say, Cowboy? Don’t try to spare my feelings, I’m looking for a reason for the uneasiness between Danni and myself. If you have any ideas, I want to hear them."

Cowboy knew the saying before it was even the directive in the military. Don’t ask and don’t tell. As long as the person did their job, it had never matter to him whom they chose to be friendly with. That was their business and none of his. In his mind, he was still that age-old enlisted man standing before an officer. It didn’t matter that they never served together or that they weren’t even in the same branch of the service. What did matter was that he respected her. "Doc, I really don’t think that what I was going to say had any real bearing on the matter at hand. At least, I don’t think so."

The surgeon sipped pensively at the hot liquid. "Damn! I’ve got to find out why things aren’t right. It’s like McCormick and Danni changed minds." She smirked, "At least where I’m concerned." She paused for a moment in thought. "You know, I really expected some wild tantrum from him up at the ski lodge when I gave you his suite key. Funny that nothing ever came out of that." She gave Cowboy a sidelong glance. "Or did it?"

"Whoa! Hold those horses right there. I stayed on my side of that huge bed and he did the same…er…I mean…he stayed on his side." Cowboy was adamant. "Jeez, Doc! Give me some credit for at least picking someone better looking than that bald pecker head. Besides, he ain’t my type, not enough curves in the right places." The pilot winked at her and used his hands to illustrate what he meant.

Garrett smiled at the concept that was left floating in her mind of Ian McCormick. "Pecker head, eh?" With that statement, they both chuckled at the thought. She was glad that he had not taken offense at her comment.

Cowboy tilted up his cup up to drain the last mouthful of coffee out of it. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he stepped over to the urn and poured himself another cup. "You know, Doc, I don’t think I even saw him. Heard him though, with all that snoring he was doing."

The surgeon thought about the last time that she had seen Ian on his way to the room that night. He’d walked in front of her and over to the elevators to the top floor where the suites were. "He didn’t seem that drunk, but come to think of it now, he did take a long time to push the button for the elevator and when he got in he did the same with the button for the floor."

Cowboy stirred his coffee. "I didn’t hear him come in. I hung that Flight suit over the back of a chair and crawled into bed. I must have fallen asleep right away. The last thing that I remembered was pulling those covers up over my head."

"Hmmm…interesting."

"Next thing I knew, it was morning. When I got up I remember looking at the bed and he was sound asleep, his clothes were draped over the foot of the bed."

"Can you think of anything else that happened?" Garrett was starting to see a definite misconception on Ian’s part; she just needed something to confirm her suspicion.

"Nope, I just did my morning ritual in the bathroom and came out, put my Flight suit on, then got my case and left."

"Did you say anything at all?" The surgeon watched his face. "Do anything that he could have…"

"Oh, shit! I left him a note with the room key on it." His eyes widened in realization of his actions. "I bet he thought it was from you."

"Why do you say that?" Her steely eyes grew in intensity.

"I…I didn’t sign it."

"What did it say, Cowboy?" She braced herself for the worst.

"I don’t remember off hand. Something about being thankful for the rest before I took off." His eyes flicked back and forth as he tried to remember. "Oh, God!" He looked her straight in the eye. "I wrote, Thanks for letting me rest before going off to new heights."

Garrett laughed. The puzzle of Ian’s attitude change was solved. "That’s why he’s been treating me that way. He was drunk, passed out and doesn’t remember anything but seeing that Flight suit and the note. He thinks we had one heck of a good time before I slipped out in the morning."

"What you going to do, tell him the truth?" The pilot took a long draw on his coffee.

"All in due time, Cowboy. But it will be when I need the advantage." She raised her cup to the pilot and winked. "Boy, is he going to be surprised."

***

The late February weather in Pittsburgh was anything but predictable. Between the cold, snow, and ice Garrett found herself with more time on her hands than she knew what to do with. Even on a day like this when they were grounded by the elements, she still couldn’t finagle her way into the O.R. as hard as she tried. She’d round with the Trauma teams, and check in on the patients that she had treated in the field. The rest of her day would either be spent in the medical library reading journals or just thinking.

It seemed that she did a lot of that lately, thinking. Sometimes it would be about her past, sometimes about her future. It didn’t seem to matter what she was thinking; Danni was always what she ended up with. The petite blonde nurse would pop up in Garrett’s thoughts in the most peculiar of times, but today, it was all that she could think about, period.

The talk with Cowboy earlier had helped her understand why Ian McCormick was going out of his way being nice to her. He thought that Garrett and he had something going, if only for that one night. The night that he had no recollection of at the ski lodge. She pondered that thought for a moment, realizing that at least one part of her puzzle was solved. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the part that she was the most concerned about.

Sitting in her small office, away from everyone else, the surgeon closed her eyes and tried to remember what had taken place that could be making such a difference in her young friend. They hadn’t quarreled or exchanged words of any kind. Well, except about where Danni would sleep that night. Garrett immediately shook her head. ‘Why would she be upset about sleeping in the bed?’ Then it dawned on her. Perhaps it was who she was going to be sleeping with that was the problem.

Garrett’s mind conjured up images of waking up with the small blonde draped across her body at first then quickly changed to the intimate posturing of their bodies that morning before the phone rang. The surgeon’s mind lingered on the spooning of her body with the petite blonde woman. She could still remember the warmth of their bodies as they were molded together and the scent of her friend from the very moment that her senses had stirred. The sweetness of that moment washed over her like a sun lit summer day and Garrett found herself sighing deeply, wishing that she were still there with her arm wrapped around the nurse.

‘Why would this time standout when we did nothing more than lay together?’

The surgeon let her mind delve deep into her past, when she had shared more than just lying together with another woman. It was hard to remember that nothing noteworthy from those shared experiments had registered in her memory when they had happened or now, when she tried to bring them back to life. The sensations that those unions had brought lasted only for the brief time when she had first felt them and nothing more. Even if she tried, she couldn’t remember their names. They were nothing more to her than a passing of time in her search for love. A love that had remained just out of her reach. That was until now.

The welcoming ways of the petite nurse had opened her mind if not her heart to the world around her. It was Danni that had given the stoic woman a sheltering home in the mist of her inner storm and helped her lay her demons to rest. The love of that friendship was more than she had ever had with another human outside of her family.

Garrett’s mind drifted once more to the blonde woman nestled in her arms, her tousled hair resting just under her nose. She inhaled trying to savor the scent of her. Then, without warning, the blonde hair was teasing someone else’s nose. The surgeon’s mind now flashed with images of Danni held in the arms of David as they moved slowly around the dance floor.

"That’s it! She wanted to be with him." Now, she had an idea about why the nurse was different towards her. Garrett thought about how many times she had seen the young woman put others before her own needs.

The surgeon snapped her large hand through the air in front of her and quickly grasped at some elusive idea, snagging it as she spoke the words, "I got you now." Her mind had just perceived that last piece of the puzzle and Garrett began to devise a plan to get Danni what she wanted.

She got up from her desk and headed for the door. "First stop, Rosie!"

***

The auburn-haired nurse came sweeping through the door at the main lobby. Rosie was always early for her shift and especially on a day like today with the temperature hovering around zero. She would need time to change and warm up before starting her shift.

Garrett had been waiting patiently in the gift shop, watching for the feisty nurse to pass by. The surgeon quickly put back the piece of giftware that she had been holding when Rosie came into sight just outside the glass that separated the lobby from the shop. Moving swiftly, the long legs of the surgeon soon caught up with the nurse.

"Hey, Rosie, can I buy you a cup of coffee to warm up?" Garrett slowed her pace to match, the nurse’s stride.

"Doc, you feeling okay?" Rosie eyed her cautiously then looked around for Danni. "Where’s she at?"

"Where’s who at?"

"Danni. You two are usually inseparable anymore." Rosie looked around but could not find the petite nurse anywhere. "Okay, what’s the joke? Where’s she hiding?"

Garrett stopped and reached out for Rosie’s arm, bringing her to a halt. "I need your help." The surgeon swallowed the lump in her throat then continued. "I want you to see if David could come here for a visit next weekend."

Now, Rosie didn’t know what to think. "You…interested in…David?" Her voice was hesitant but questioning.

"Not for me. I…I want to set things right with Danni. I thought that seeing David again could help."

Rosie chuckled. "So, you want to play Yenta…eh?" Then her head bobbed up and down. "Yeah, I’ll get David here." The thought of another chance for Danni and David sat well with her. "They make a cute couple, don’t you think?"

It wasn’t exactly what the surgeon wanted to think about but she did want her friend to be happy again. "Yeah, they do." The tone of Garrett’s voice was indicative of her thoughts as she mustered a weak smile, if only for show.

***

The next few days found Danni wishing that the unpredictable month of March would make its appearance soon. Whether it roared in as the Lion or gently emerged as the Lamb, didn’t matter to her as much as the passing of the time. It would mean that another month was over and the time left to the new Staff year was dwindling. In her heart she hadn’t wanted this year to pass, but now, she was finding it unbearable. The woman who had filled her heart with joy and hope had found a way to squash the life right out of her.

She was trying desperately not to show it, but the words spoken that morning at the ski lodge left a lasting impression on her tender heart. When Danni even thought of the raven-haired woman and her nonchalant manner of saying, I must have been dreaming. Honest, I didn’t mean anything by it…her heart felt as though it was breaking.

How could something that felt so right, not mean anything to the other person? There were times, even now, that Danni wanted to trust her heart but then the words echoed through it again. She didn’t mean anything by it only equated she didn’t love me and once again the nurse would busy herself with anything that she could find to stop her mind from thinking.

The mundane act of stocking supplies had always fallen on the aides in the E.R., but Danni needed something to have her mind focused on. She could hide in the supply room and not have to be reminded of Garrett Trivoli or the feelings of her own awakening sexuality.

It was during that last Tuesday in February, that she was beckoned out of the closet to the sound of a familiar voice on the telephone.

"Hello! Nurse Bossard speaking."

The smile on the other end was evident in the tone of the male voice. "Danni, how’s my favorite nurse?"

"David…is that you?" Her voice became softer and more relaxed.

"Yeah, it’s me. I’m going to be in Pittsburgh over the weekend. I was wondering if we could get together and do something say…on Friday night?"

"I’ll have to check with the rest of the bunch, but I know they’d all love to see you again." Her thoughts traveled to the rest of the E.R. family that he had been a part of.

"Oh…I…I was thinking that maybe we could do something together, you and I." There, he had finally managed to do it. He’d asked her out after all those years.

Danni was in shock. David had always been so shy around her and now he was asking her out. She smiled at the accomplishment of another one of her menagerie that had grown under her care and was now standing on his own. "David, I’m…I’m flattered but…"

"Come on, Danni, you name it, anything you want to do. Think about it and let me know. I won’t be leaving here until Friday at noon." The man paused to catch his breath. "I’ve been thinking a lot about you since the night up at Seven Springs. Just give me a chance, that’s all I’m asking for."

The nurse knew that her heart was already taken but she couldn’t let him know that now. Once again, Danni pushed her own feelings to the side and agreed to meet with him. "Okay, David. Let me see what I can come up with and I'll let you know on Friday morning."

"Okay, I’ll be waiting to hear from you." The excitement was evident in his voice. "Bye."

"Bye, David." Danni hung up the phone and stood there thinking. ‘Is it really fair to David when I know that my heart doesn’t feel for him like he would like it to?’ "It’s only a date."

"Date? Did I hear you saying date?" Mom turned the corner of the desk.

Sighing, Danni looked up to her and offered. "David, just asked me out on Friday night. Seems he is going to be in town for the weekend."

Karen looked around to make sure no one could hear their discussion. "Danni, I thought you had feelings for…"

"Mom, I don’t think Garrett is that kind of woman." Her eyes showed her hurt.

"Did something happen that I don’t know about?" She pulled the blonde down into a chair and sat next to her. "Talk to your Mom."

Danni hung her head in disbelief. Her own mother would have been jumping for joy if she knew about David. "We shared a room at the lodge that night."

"And?"

"Well, it was a king sized bed but we kept…a…meeting in the middle." Danni swallowed down a blush. "I…we…kind of woke up spooned together and her arm was wrapped around me."

"So, what’s wrong?"

"We didn’t say anything about it ‘cause the phone rang and well, Gar apologized for it. She said that she must have been dreaming and that it didn’t mean anything to her." Danni bit at her lip trying to quell the tears that were about to start.

Karen looked at her and brushed a lock of hair from Danni’s forehead like you would a little child. "Is that what has been the cause of your actions around her? You think that it didn’t mean anything to her?"

The young nurse sniffed back a tear. "Yeah." Danni nodded her head without looking up.

Mom wrapped her arm around Danni’s shoulders. "If you ask me, she was just trying to save you some embarrassment. I see how you both act around one another. Trust me, I think it matters a lot to her." Karen rubbed the blonde’s arm and then patted it gently. "Have you ever seen her not care about her patients?" Danni shook her head. "I bet she was only trying to take the blame to leave you off the hook."

"Really, Mom?" The nurse looked up with the glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"Talk to her." Karen got up from the chair. "Don’t write her off until you find out. You owe her that much."

Danni nodded her head. ‘Could she have really tried to do that? Was she just shielding me from my own embarrassment?’ She looked over her shoulder at the retreating form of the Charge Nurse. "Thanks, Mom." Her words were soft and thoughtful. ‘I need to find Garrett and we need to sit down and talk.’

***

It would have been too easy to use the surgeon’s pager or her personal cell phone. What Danni had to talk about was not something that she wanted to discuss over the phone. She needed to see Garrett in person and register her reactions first hand. After all, her future…no, their future was riding on it.

It didn’t take long for the petite nurse to track Garrett down. There were only so many hiding places for a nearly six foot trauma surgeon, especially one that wasn’t allowed in the O.R. After a few phone calls, Danni made her way to the Medical Staff Library.

The raven-haired woman sat with her back to the far wall, her head bent over a large and dusty volume of some long forgotten medical book. She liked to know how things were done before all of the modern technology arrived.

‘Always looking for something to fall back on in times of disaster, aren’t you, Gar?’ Danni mused at the sight. She stood there watching the studious nature of the woman who had come to mean so much more to her than she could realize. The nurse wavered for a moment before she approached, not wanting to disturb her deep thoughts.

It wasn’t a moment longer before the blue eyes looked up and were filled with the blonde vision in front of her. The softness of the subtle smile that graced Danni’s face took all of the weeks of avoidance away. ‘I wondered if it was because of David that her attitude had changed.’ If so, then she was glad for it. The surgeon loved seeing her friend happy and whatever it was that made her that way, she was prepared to do it.

Danni smiled, "Hey!"

The gentle word and smile was more of a greeting to Garrett then any she had ever received. ‘I could come home to that everyday.’ The surgeon closed the book and pushed it away. "Hey, yourself."

There was a renewed closeness that overtook them both. The world around them slowly vanished while only the essence of their beings remained. Each one willing to let their being melt, losing themselves only to find the other.

Slowly the noise of ruffling pages and the muted cough of another seeker of knowledge brought them back to reality.

Garrett let her eyes drift in the direction of the coughing then back to her friend. "Come on, I’m done reading for a while." She slid her chair back and got up, put the book under her arm. "Care for something to drink?"

"Not really." Danni shook her head. ‘It’s now or never. Come on, Danni girl, give her a chance.’ Gar, I think that we need to talk."

The surgeon held her finger to her own mouth in a hushing motion. Then made her way to the desk at the front of the room. Handing the book over to the librarian, Garrett looked back to see if the petite woman was following, then walked out the door.

"We can talk better out here." The tall woman held the door open for her friend. "Librarians don’t enjoy conversation as much as you do."

Danni glanced back at the staunch-looking woman behind the desk. "I guess not." She turned to look back at the surgeon.

"So, what is it that you want to talk about?"

Danni bit at her lip, "Gar, could we go somewhere else besides a hallway to talk?"

"Okay," she shrugged her shoulders, "Is the cafeteria alright with you?" The surgeon turned to start walking towards the elevators but the gentle tug on her sleeve stopped her. Looking back at the pleading green eyes, Garrett’s eyebrow rose in question.

"Maybe somewhere a little more private. Your office, perhaps."

Garrett nodded slightly and reflexively reached into her pocket for the keys. ‘What is she going to say that needs to be so private?’ Flashes of David and Danni dancing at the lodge invaded her mind. They were twirling around the dance floor much like the figurines on top of a wedding cake. Garrett suddenly felt weak-kneed at the thought.

"Gar, you alright?" Danni’s hand went out to steady the surgeon. "You look a little pale."

"Yeah…I…I’m fine." Garrett’s voice became stronger. "My office then." She motioned with her hands to follow her down the hall. "I’m not sure if anybody else is using it. Let’s have a look." ‘Come on, Gar, get a hold of yourself. It wouldn’t be the end of the world. She deserves to be happy and in love.’

Stopping at the door, Garrett inserted the key and opened it. To Danni’s relief, the room was dark and without any human inhabitants. Now, came the hard part, where to start the conversation. The nurse closed the door after herself and got comfortable on the only other chair in the room, while the surgeon sat across the desk from her, trying not to fidget. The silence in the room was louder than a summer thunderstorm, each one dreading what the conversation could bring about.

Finally Danni rallied enough strength to show her cards. Whether she would win the pot of gold or come away the empty-handed one was dependent on the woman seated across from her. ‘By the gods, let me say this the right way without making her repulsed by it.’ The petite woman gritted her teeth and slowly started. "Gar, there’s something that I have to say about me and…"

That was all she could get out before the sound of the Flight Team pagers drowned out her voice. The cacophony of tones sliced through the air in the small room with a nerve-racking sound, interrupting anything that was within earshot of them.

The surgeon winced at the noise on her sensitive ears as she grabbed for her pager to silence it. She pressed the button and listened to the voice page.

"Dr. Trivoli and Nurse Bossard please call the Command Desk by phone."

They looked at each other for a second, each one questioning the reason for the page. Garrett reached for the phone on her desk and made the call. She listened intently to the message that was relayed to her, then hung up.

"What?" Danni was interested in where they were off to next. "Where are we headed to?"

"McMurray’s office." The surgeon’s voice sounded ominous. "He wants us there for some kind of meeting."

Danni’s brow wrinkled with thought. "When?"

Garrett got up and headed for the door. "Now! You coming?"

"Right behind you, Gar." She rose and followed the surgeon. All thoughts of her needing to talk were pushed back to the far corners of her mind for another time.

***

The Ol’ Cutter hung up the phone and thought about the proposal that had been presented to him. He loved the idea of getting recognition for the services that his staff provided but found himself being a little more than concerned with how a particular staff member would take it, namely, one Dr. Garrett Trivoli. There were some areas of that Fellow he just could not quite put his finger on. He thought about the effect that the other member of the Flight Team, Nurse Bossard, had on the surgeon and was glad that she would be a part of this, too. Perhaps she could help.

‘Trivoli has a long career ahead of her, it might as well start now. She’s going to have to learn to accept the honors that go along with it.’ The swivel of his chair allowed him to shift from his desk to the large expanse of windows behind him. It always helped to calm his nerves to look out at the city he called home. With a little luck, he might even be able to persuade another talented surgeon to call it home, too. If only there was something that could anchor her in this port. His mind drifted off to his wife and how his own anchoring had brought him the needed satisfaction in his life that he had only dreamed of in his younger days. He sat, staring out the window, lost in his own memories.

***

After a pleasant smile and greeting, McMurray’s secretary ushered Garrett and Danni into his office. Her only words to the man behind the desk were both businesslike and polite. "Dr. McMurray, the Flight Team is here to see you." The older woman motioned for them to go in and then left, closing the door after her.

Each one stood just inside the door and looked around the office until their gazes met with each other’s. The absence of the man from their view and the silence that surrounded them only added to the suspense as to why they were here in the first place. Shrugging to each other, they then turned their attention back toward the desk in time to see movement as the chair swiveled back to face the room.

The contemplative look on his face gave them no clue as to why they had been summoned. Garrett searched her mind for any reason that could have brought them here. All of their flights had been without problems and she knew that Ian had never realized the switch that she had pulled on him. She resigned herself to the fact that she had no clue.

McMurray stopped his chair as it came into his favorite position at the desk. He leaned forward to rest his arms on the desktop and greeted them. "Nurse Bossard, Dr Trivoli! I’m glad that you could come so quickly when I paged."

"That’s part of our job sir, a quick response to any call." Garrett raised her eyebrow as if to challenge her mentor for the reason that they were summoned.

"Gar!" The word was only a whisper but Danni knew that her friend heard it. The swift glance in her direction by the tall woman confirmed it.

"Ease up, Trivoli. You would think that I called you in on the carpet for something or other. Nothing of the kind." He rose slightly and motioned to the chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat, will you?"

Danni rolled her eyes and thanked every god that she could think of. "Thanks, Dr. McMurray." Nudging her team member to do the same.

The eyebrow receded to its normal position. "Sir." Garrett tipped her head to him, remembering her military days and stifling the salute that she had grown accustomed to.

The women sat down, positioning themselves attentively, waiting for the man in front of them to continue.

The Ol’ Cutter eyed his guests and let the corners of his mouth turn upward in a smile. "Relax, ladies. It’s nothing bad. In fact, it’s something very good for both of your careers."

The Fellow eyed McMurray suspiciously. She’d been pushed into more things in the last eight months for her career by this man then she cared to think about. What was she going to have to do now?

Garrett felt the gentle touch of the small hand on her arm. It acted better than any drug she could have taken. Her anxiety seemed to fade as she let her eyes take the gesture into view. ‘Well, maybe not everything in this Fellowship year was bad.’

"I’m sorry, but you’ve got us at a loss." Danni tried to take the attention away from her friend. She flashed a smile first at Garrett then to the man behind the desk. "What is it?"

‘Teamwork, that’s what makes them so good together. Each one looking out for the other.’ "The Board of Directors would like you to honor them with you presence at the Dinner they are hosting on Friday evening." He looked at the women, hoping for some kind of response. "I know that there’s not much time between now and then but they’d like you there all the same."

Danni was the one looking concerned now. "This Friday? I already have a date…" She trailed off on the last word, sensing that Garrett was a little more attentive now, noticing that the surgeon’s head had turned toward her on that revelation. ‘I can’t believe I said that.’

"Good! Then you’ll have an escort. Bring your date along." He winked in approval. "Anyone we know Nurse Bossard?" McMurray turned a wayward eye to the tall surgeon. He noticed that her eyes were a little larger than normal as she digested that last exchange.

Danni, on the other hand, was trying to repress the first signs of a blush. ‘Why did I ever agree to that date? It could have been just me sitting side by side at that dinner with Garrett.’ "I think so. It’s Dr. Beckman. You remember David, don’t you?"

"Yes, last year’s Chief Resident, " The sound of a muted snort came from the tall surgeon as she listened. "Fine man and a promising surgeon." The Ol’ Cutter nodded. "I thought he was somewhere in West Virginia."

"He is. David is just going to be in town for the weekend and wanted us to get together."

Garrett lost the conversation at that point. It was all her doing and she now felt like it was going to backfire on her. ‘Beckman…at least she won’t have to change any of her monogrammed items.’ Her thoughts of sounding out Danni’s name with his came to a crashing halt when she realized that both sets of eyes were staring at her, waiting for an answer. "What?" She replied as her eyebrow shot up.

"Gar, Dr. McMurray just wanted to know if you’d be bringing someone. An escort maybe?" Her hand slid over to pat the surgeon’s, trying to comfort her from the startled look she possessed.

"Ah…escort? I…I guess I could find one." Her eyes darted from side to side as she thought. "It’s short notice…"

"Well, see what you can come up with. Oh, and Dr. Trivoli…" he paused waiting for her full attention. "I wouldn’t raid the School of Medicine’s Cadaver Lab. That style of escort didn’t go over very big the last time it was tried."

"Danni wrinkled her nose and imagined the sight. "Ew!" ‘Yeah, like there aren’t guys standing in line that would take her out.’ The nurse’s mind flashed with the thought of lines of cold, stiff, embalmed bodies hanging by tongs waiting in the cold room of the Medical School for their turn to fall into the skilled dissectionist’s hands. The petite woman’s hand raked through her hair as she tried to shake the image out of her mind. ‘Change the subject, Danni. NOW!!!’

"No, sir. Wouldn’t think of it." ‘I wouldn’t have put it past him to have tried that.’ Garrett tried to make light of the situation.

Straining to clear her voice, Danni began to speak. "So…uh…is this formal or what?"

McMurray chuckled. "No, no tuxedos or gowns." He scratched his cheek. "Suits and whatever is appropriate these days for you women." His eyes wondered over to the tall surgeon in front of him. "No, designer original scrub clothing, Trivoli. You hear?"

The woman nodded her head while Danni giggled behind her cupped hand until the lone eyeball made its appearance at the corner of Garrett’s eye.

"Now, get going…I’ll see you on Friday night."

The team got up and headed for the door. When they were just about ready to pass through the open doorway, the Ol’ Cutter swung around in his chair and yelled out a closing remark. "Trivoli! You’d better have something else on your arm other than that Flight Suit when you walk through that door at 7 o’clock."

Garrett stopped short at the sound of his voice. Upon hearing it cease, she muttered under her breath, "Damn!" and closed the door.

***

The remainder of the week leading up to the dinner was spent in training exercises in the weather sanctioned downtime and running on Flights when the weather permitted. In times of need, they even found themselves filling in for regular Flight Crews when the need arose do to illness of the crewmembers.

It was Friday morning and the blustery arrival of March had come in like a Lion the day before. The young nurse had already made her call to David and informed him of the Dinner and the need for him to bring a suit with him on his weekend trip. He graciously accepted the invitation to escort Danni. Now, all she had to do was decide on something to wear herself.

She pondered what to wear. She didn’t want to give David any wrong impression but she did so what to make Garrett take notice of her. It was a hard decision but she finally chose the dark green suit that always made her eyes stand out. ‘Now, if that doesn’t do it, I don’t know what will.’ She laid the clothing out on her bed in preparation of later that evening.

***

Garrett ran through the narrowing list of escorts as she sat sipping coffee in the Doctor’s Lounge outside of the O.R. It was as close as she was allowed to come to her forbidden ground without breaking her promise. Her body just tingled with life when she was in there. She turned her eyes back to the inhabitants of the room. All that was left in here today was the gangly medical school students as they regrouped before heading off to their rounds. She eyed them all disapprovingly considering the need to possibly change a few of their diapers during the course of the evening. Time was running out and so were her options.

She went to the bank of phones on the one wall and pulled out the yellow pages, turning the pages to cast a wary eye to the listing of "Escorts" but then changed her mind. ‘Now that is getting too damn desperate.’ She closed the book and pushed it away. ‘It would be so simple if David wasn’t here.’ She closed her eyes and cursed herself for doing what she had thought was in the best interest of her small friend. She went back to the leather couch and slowly sipped her cup of coffee.

The room was almost empty when Garrett noticed the telltale weight of someone on the couch sitting opposite her end. She opened one lone orb and caste a watchful eye in that direction. ‘Who would be so bold as to sit next to Garrett Trivoli?’ She should have known. ‘Ian!’ She hurriedly closed her eyes feigning sleep.

Sensing that the Chief of the E.R. wanted to speak privately to the slumbering Doctor, a lone medical student quickly gathered his handful of papers and stuffed them into his pocket as he rose from the small table against the wall. His rushed greeting was met with a scornful eye as McCormick had a way of leering at the students, making them shake in their shoes. Today was no different and soon the room was empty, accept for himself and the beautiful woman.

Garrett knew that she’d have to talk to him sooner or later and chose to let him stew for just a few moments more. At the first stirring of her eyelashes, Ian shifted his position and faced her more fully.

‘Well, time to get this over with.’ The Fellow turned her glance in his direction. "Y-e-s?" She drew the word out as her eyebrow edged upward.

The bald man laughed nervously. "Let’s cut the crap, Trivoli. We’re adults and from that little tryst at Seven Springs I can say that we both know when to keep our mouths shut." He eyed her approvingly.

"You could say that." She smiled coyly, images of Cowboy and Ian sharing the same bed flashed briefly through her head.

"I figure that the two of use could attend this Dinner tonight and no one would have to be the wiser. I understand that you haven’t given them the name of your escort yet for the place cards." He chuckled under his breath. "A busy woman like you doesn’t have time to meet a lot of people. I rented a limo and we could just walk in together. Do the mingle-mingle game then after the awards, split. What do you say?"

Garrett thought for a moment. ‘Hmmm…It would be an escort. I could talk Danni into doubling with us in the limo and that way I wouldn’t have to amputate Ian’s hands for something he’d try to do if we were alone.’ The twinkle in her blue eyes grew as the physician setting next to her watched in silence. ‘Besides, that way I could keep an eye on David. I mean…just in case. Hey, didn’t every girl’s mother teach you that there was safety in numbers?’ Her throaty chuckle teased at McCormick’s imagination of what the night was to bring. "Sure, what time can I expect you?"

The man swallowed hard then smiled in delight. "I’ll pick you up about six-thirty." He made a little growling noise then winked and got up to leave just as the door to the room opened. He turned his back to her and left. The surgeon found herself smirking at his sense of sexual prowess and shook her head as she rolled her eyes. ‘Now, to talk Danni into doubling.’

***

They had both driven in today. Danni being Danni, knew that she would need more time to get ready for the Dinner date with David than Garrett would ever imagine taking. She had already showered, shaved her legs, and even plucked a wayward eyebrow hair before she sat down on her bed to paint her nails. The shade of opalescent pearl was chosen and she began to shake the bottle in preparation.

The sound of someone entering the house and walking through the first floor was evident as Danni stopped what she was doing to yell out a greeting. "Gar, I’m up here in the bedroom." She continued with her ritual as she waited for the woman to ascend the steps. Seeing the raven hair shifting in through the door, Danni smiled. "Hey!"

"Hey," the surgeon looked around the room at the clothing that had been laid out. "What time is David coming?"

"He said that he’d be here a little before 1830." The military time was something that she had picked up from Garrett.

Garrett nodded her head. "Good! Then we can all leave together in the limo." Her words were nonchalant as she worked them into the conversation.

The petite woman stopped what she was doing. "Limo? I don’t remember anything about a limo."

Garrett feigned smacking her forehead with her hand. "I must have forgotten to tell you. They are sending a limo with a Staff member in it to pick us up. It’ll be here about 1830." Garrett looked at the nurse trying to decide if she was buying the explanation or not. Then she began reasoning what she had said in her head. ‘What’s one little white lie going to hurt? Besides, it is a white limo.’

"Well, yeah, I guess we could do that." Danni was feeling better about the evening already. She’d have her date with David and still be in the company of one tall, raven-haired woman. Then she said with more conviction than she needed to. "I’m sure that David won’t mind." ‘I know that I sure won’t.’

Garrett breathed easier. It was all set and done. Now all she had to do was get ready before they came. She looked down at her watch as she made her way to her room across the hall. It was 1740. ‘Just enough time.’

The tall woman stood at her sparse closet of civilian clothing. "Hmm…now, what to wear."

***

David stood waiting at the door. He’d already rung the bell once and was just about to do it again when the sound of the dead bolt lock could be heard. He stood up straighter, letting his shoulders shift into a more confident appearance while the truth was that he was really scared to hell. All during his Residency at the hospital he had dreamed of this day, the day that he would take Danni out. He wet his lips and swallowed realizing that his dream was just moments away and on the other side of that door.

When the door was finally opened, a tall, dark-haired woman met him. Her statuesque form was covered by a dark pinstriped pantsuit that was classic in nature. The open style of the jacket allowed him to see the draping of the silk blouse over her well-proportioned body. Her blue eyes met with his as she stepped back to allow him to enter. "David, I presume?" Her voice was edged in sarcasm and her eyebrow rose in challenge to the man.

"Yes," he nodded. "I’m here for Danni." His eyes drifted into the room trying to see if his date was anywhere around.

"Come on in. Let me introduce myself. I’m…"

"Garrett Trivoli. I remember you. You’re the one that I handed off to on my last day in Residency." He smiled.

"Make yourself comfortable, Danni should be down any minute." Garrett led the way into the living room. "Did Danni tell you that we will all be going together? They’re sending a limo for us." ‘Top that one, will you.’

"No, she didn’t." He seemed a bit disappointed.

There was a brief moment of silence before the sound of someone descending the stairs was heard and all eyes shifted in that direction. Garrett watched the petite nurse move slowly down the steps as she made her grand entrance into the room. David stood; his eyes glued to her every move.

"I thought that I heard the door. David, it’s so good to see you again." She crossed the room and took his hand in hers. "I take it that Garrett has introduced herself to you."

"Yes, she has." He smiled nervously, like a boy on his first date.

"Well, the limo should be here any minute. Danni, do you have your Flight Gear in the bag?" Garrett walked over to her duffel that was at the bottom of the stairs.

"Yeah, but I left it upstairs by my bed." She turned to get it.

The surgeon held up her hand to stop her young friend. "You have company, I’ll get it." ‘Get me away from him, now. Man, he’s nothing more than a boy with a crush on her.’

David looked at Garrett then at Danni. "You’re flying tonight?"

"Well, yes. The weather is fine and we’re not grounded. If they need us, we’ll go." She watched his expression turn sullen at the thought. "We’re the only Flight Surgeon Team, David. It’s not like we can refuse."

He nodded in understanding as he watched Garrett come back down the steps with Danni’s bag of gear in hand.

Garrett could see the gleaming white limo as it pulled up at the curb. "I think our ride is here." She picked up her duffel and headed for the door.

Danni started for her bag but David reached it first, refusing to give it up as they went out the door.

Garrett stood at the curb, waiting for the door to the limo to be opened for her. The driver came around the vehicle and, with a flare of eloquence opened the door to usher her inside.

Ian McCormick sat on the far side of the leather seat, a smile etched across his face as he saw the tall woman climb inside and take a seat. "You look lovely this evening, Dr. Trivoli." The beads of perspiration already were appearing on his forehead.

"Why thank you, Doctor." She settled her bag on the floor and herself in the curbside seat. "I hope you don’t mind but I thought that we could all go together." She motioned to Danni and David as they closed the door to the house and started for the limo.

Ian looked out the window, eyeing the young couple coming his way. ‘What will it hurt. We can always drop the kids off on the way back home and have some fun of our own after the dinner.’ "Sure, why not?" It wasn’t what he had in mind initially but this way, he knew that they would make it to the dinner for sure.

‘Okay, that was easy enough.’ The raven-haired surgeon watched as David helped her friend into the vehicle, mindful of exactly where he was putting his hands the entire time.

***

It was amazing what could be done with the medical staff dining room at the hospital. If they hadn’t come in through the lobby, they never would have guessed that this was the same room. The decorations and floral pieces all added to the illusion of some grand ballroom.

Finding their table, Danni and Garrett stowed their bags underneath, hidden from sight by the long tablecloths. The pre-dinner mingling was already underway when they had arrived, and they joined in, graciously passing on the cocktails.

Although they went their separate ways around the room full of Board members and dignitaries, Danni never lost sight of her tall friend. It was all that she could do to keep her mind on the conversations that were going on around her as David greeted colleagues and old friends alike. The few times that she was called upon to speak, she felt out of place. ‘So this is what it’s like to be on someone’s arm." She thought of her sister Brie and how she had always glowed at parties of this nature. ‘I don’t know how you do it, Brie.’

The conversation was stimulating with its talk of new procedures and techniques as the group of surgeons exchanged ideas. Garrett was more absorbed in keeping an eye on her petite friend as she watched David move from group to group, with Danni at his side. It seemed odd to be separated from Danni. The surgeon felt as though there was something missing. It was funny how in a room full of people that one could feel so all alone.

With the announcement of Dinner, the guests all took their seats. Garrett sat next to Ian while Danni sat across the table with David at her side.

The exchange of small talk had been centered on Garrett and Danni’s summons to court in the next week. Ian, of course, showing his concern for the members of his E.R. staff.

"Which side summoned you?" McCormick waited for an answer.

"I believe the prosecution. The summons mentioned something about material witnesses." Garrett offered the information.

David shook his head. Seeing the action, Danni wondered what he was thinking. "What’s wrong, David? You don’t seem too enthused with that fact."

"I’ve had some bad experience with the defense counsel in a case like that."

"How so?" Ian’s interest was piqued.

"They almost made me sound like I wanted the patient to have been raped." He shrugged. "It just was a little nerve racking."

Garrett eyed the man across from her. The mention of rape from David’s mouth made her neck hairs tingle and stand on edge.

"Well, there shouldn’t be any problems with you in that respect." Ian laughed as he admired the woman next to him. "What interest would you have in that woman but as a patient?"

Garrett shook her head. "Never know what some people will do to get their clients off. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens on Tuesday when we have to appear in court."

"Well, I’ll feel better when it’s over." The nurse was obviously not looking forward to the trial. "What do you say we change…"

Her words stopped in mid sentence as the vibration of the pager on her waistband startled her. Reaching down, she unclipped it and looked at he message that was displayed across the viewing area. The side ways glance to her tall companion showed Garrett bringing her cell phone out, as she started to punch in the numbers.

"Excuse me." Garrett slid her chair back from the table. Her eyes flashed with interest as the voice on the other end relayed the message. It didn’t take long before she was done. The cell phone being slipped back into her pocket. "I’m sorry, but we’re needed." With that she got up from the chair, her duffel in hand. "Cowboy will be picking us up in five minutes on the helipad."

Danni already had her bag in her hand. "Sorry, David." She excused herself from the table and followed Garrett out of the room.

***

After a hasty change in the restroom, they stowed their clothing in Garrett’s office and made their way to the helipad where Cowboy was just touching down. Giving them the sign for a hot load, he eagerly awaited their arrival onboard the craft.

Once belted into their seats, Garrett relayed the all information that she knew to Danni.

"They have someone pinned up in the railway yards north of the city. They don’t think that there is much hope for the man’s survival but they want us to come take a look."

Danni closed her eyes and nodded. She knew by the sound of it that it could be much worse than she could imagine. It was then that she started her task of doing the pre-flight checks. Within minutes, the ‘thumb’s up’ sign for take-off was given and the pilot began their journey upward.

***

The train yards below them were a mess of red lights and emergency equipment positioned around the two railroad cars. From their approach overhead, they could tell that the bustle of activity was all directed to the space between the two cars where the man was supposedly pinned. Within minutes they would be on the ground and making their way to see what they could do, but for now, all they could do was watch.

Touch down had been uneventful, and soon the surgeon and nurse found themselves being escorted to the patient. Traveling through the lines of rescue workers, they could see the growing look of despair on the faces as they got closer to the source of everyone’s concern. The last line of human bodies opened, revealing the grizzly scene.

Garrett and Danni had been filled in on the situation as they were brought across the yard to the patient. He’d been checking the cars when one had broken loose and trapped him. The coupling had penetrated his body and locked itself into position with the other car before he could get out of the way. Now he stood in that same position for the last hour as railroad employees and rescue workers alike put their minds together to save him.

There, before them, was a man living on borrowed time. His body obviously trapped between the massive metal coupling devices that are used to hold the cars together in a line. It was like some surreal scene out of a horror movie.

The man stood living and breathing but grossly in pain. His frantic eyes sweeping from one rescuer to another as he prayed for another chance at life. It wasn’t long before those piercing eyes fell on the tall surgeon and the nurse.

Sensing the almost hopelessness of the scene, Danni reached out for the man’s hand. Her gentle touch acted like a tranquilizer on his nerves.

"Is there anything that I can do for you?" Her eyes conveyed her concern, more for his mental well being than anything else. "My name is Danni, I’m a nurse. This is Dr. Trivoli." She motioned to the tall woman next to her.

Even through his pain, the man tried to find humor in the situation. "Bet you never saw nothing like this before, eh Doc?" His forehead creased with each new wave of pain.

"Not exactly." Garrett’s tone was serious. "How’s the pain?"

"What do you think, Doc. It ain’t everyday that you have two railroad cars coupled through your belly." His weak attempt at a smile quickly turned to a grimace.

The surgeon surveyed the man’s body, her mind contemplating any possible chance of helping him. "Danni, give him 2mg. of morphine." She turned her attention back to the man for a moment then went to talk to the man in charge of the scene.

"What’s a nice girl like you doing here?"

Danni smiled as she readied her drug for injection. "Just out for a ride and thought that I’d stop in."

"You sound like my wife." He grimaced again. "I know that it doesn’t look good for me. I just want to see her again. Sounds stupid, huh?"

"No, not at all." Danni slipped the syringe into the I.V. line. "This is going to make you feel a little better. Take the edge off of that pain."

"They said that my wife was on the way. I don’t want to be out when she gets here." He looked nervously at the syringe. "If I’m…" He paused trying to muster the courage to say his thoughts. "…Gone before she gets here. Will you tell her that I love her?"

Danni’s heart felt like it would break as she listened to his plea. "Don’t worry, she’ll be here soon. You’ll tell her yourself." Danni patted his hand. "I’ll be right back." She moved away from the man and sought out the tall surgeon.

"Doc, there ain’t nothing we can do. When that coupling comes apart he’s going to bleed out. We thought that maybe you could…" The rescue worker looked hopeful.

Garrett looked back to the patient. Sighing deeply, she thought about the possibilities. Even with a full team of surgeons in the O.R., there would be a very slim chance to save the man. The disruption of organs and the involvement of the spine alone would be debilitating enough to render his quality of life to a very low level if indeed he would survive. It would just be a matter of time now. When that coupling was undone, the life would flow out of him within a few minutes and his body would be at its final rest.

The only thing that she could possibly do for the man was keep him comfortable and fulfill any last wishes that he may have.

"Gar, can you do anything for him?" Danni’s eyes looked for comfort in the pools of blue. The desolation in the surgeon’s eyes was all she needed to see. "I see." The nurse looked up at the rescuer in charge. "He said that his wife was on the way. Is she here yet?"

"The police went to get her from her job. They should be here any minute."

"Then what?" Danni pushed for an answer.

Garrett bit at her lip, disgusted that she could do nothing for him. "Then when he’s ready, they uncouple the cars."

The blonde nurse looked puzzled. "Uncouple the cars, how do they do that?" She looked back over to the man. "Can’t we do something then?"

Garrett looked back over to the trapped man. The priest that had been called to hear his last confession had just arrived. "He needs a few minutes of privacy. Follow me."

The tall surgeon took off across the railroad yard to the pair of railroad cars that stood off in the distance. Her long strides made short work of stepping over the numerous sets of tracks as she quickly reached her destination. Danni scurried to keep up. Her much shorter legs lifted higher to clear the 6-inch metal rails soon began to tire, as the walk resembled more a step aerobic workout.

Finally arriving at their destination, Danni showed signs of being slightly winded. The heaving of her chest was noticeable to Garrett. "Why didn’t you tell me I was going too fast?"

"What, and make you think that I can’t keep up with you? Never!" The corners of her mouth turned upward as she sucked in another round of breath. "Now show me this coupling thing."

Garrett moved between the two uncoupled cars and Danni followed right along.

"See how the metal is shaped like a hook?" Danni nodded. "Now follow me to the other car. You’ll see that the hook is just the opposite. They slide into one another and mesh together in the middle, locking them together."

"Then when it went through him…"

"It caught everything in the middle and pinched it off." Garrett’s brow furrowed. "That’s what I was talking to the Scene Commander about. The liaison for the railroad was kind enough to explain it to me."

The nurse moved even closer to see the menacing coupling. Her petite frame next to the boxcar made her look even shorter than normal with the coupling’s height being just about the area of her heart. The mechanism amazed her and caused her to lose all concept of the world around her. Bending over, she tried to study it from the underside, twisting and turning around several times. ‘By the gods, I bet that there’s nothing left to his vertebrae but splinters.’ Danni’s mind brought vivid images of the man’s anatomy and the trauma that had occurred to his internal organs. She shivered in response.

Suddenly Danni could feel the tears welling up in her eyes as the idea of knowing that this would be the day of your death over powered her. She closed her eyes against their sting as the first tear rolled down over her cheek. A wave of fear washed over her as she thought of what the man was going through. The nurse stole a look at her tall, raven-haired friend and imagined herself in that same position as a giant lump came to her throat. Brushing the tears off her face, Danni forced her mind to concentrate on the coupling device. Maybe, just maybe, something would come to her mind to help save the man.

The tall woman stood back and watched her for a moment, amused at the intrigue of her curious team member. ‘I wonder how she would act if I let her into the O.R. for one of my operations?’ Garrett shook her head and turned to lean up against the other boxcar. The surgeon looked back across the yard at the gathering crowd of onlookers and rescuers alike. Her center of attention now focused on the scene of the entrapped man and the priest.

Danni was having a hard time understanding the locking device. ‘Maybe if I can understand how it goes together, I could figure out some way to help.’ She stood now in front of the claw-like device on the car closest to her. Something seemed to elude her but she just couldn’t think of what it was. ‘Maybe if I eye them up in line…" Danni turned and stood with her head at coupling level, trying to see how it would connect and spring into action. She turned back to the closer coupling and studied it intently.

The noise of the yard was resuming as the trains in the other parts of the yard were being moved and rotated into the lines of cars that were needed to carry the freight to their destinations. The sound of squeaky wheels and groans of the rails as the engines passed over them brought images of the travel that Garrett had taken to get here to Pittsburgh from San Francisco. The ride had been so soothing for her, and the scenery magnificent. If she closed her eyes right now, she could feel the constant jiggle in her body and hear the slow sounding clickity-clack that both started and stopped any rail journey. It was enough to lull her into dreaming of taking more rides by train in the near future.

The moment of quiet contemplation was suddenly thrown out the window with the jolting push her body felt and the sound of metal snapping into metal. The surgeon was thrown out of her comfortable position and found herself headed for the ground. Remembering where she was, her first thought was that of the safety of her friend. Blue eyes opened to see Danni still squatting in front of the coupling device and staring at it.

Garrett could feel the boxcar pushing her forward as she fell. There was no time to call out. Instead, she lunged forward, stretching her body to it’s full potential with her arms outstretched, fingers grabbing for the Flight Suit of the nurse.

"Hey! What the…" Danni’s body was being pushed forward and pulled down all at the same time. She didn’t know what to think but to go with the flow of force to keep from getting injured trying to fight it.

Thud! Humph!

Within seconds, the petite woman was laying on the ties with the tracks off to either side of her, the sound of metal clashing with metal coming from directly over her head. Wide green eyes stared at the action above her as the coupling latched itself together with a thunderous clap.

It took a few seconds for Garrett to catch her breath. The fall had knocked the wind out of her. Drawing in air to expand her lungs, she held on tightly to the smaller form next to her.

"Dan…" she tried to talk, "you okay?" The sting of the air expanding her lungs burned as it entered her chest.

Danni took only a moment to take stock of her body, and then she answered. "Yeah, everything seems to be okay. How about you?"

The surgeon’s breathing was becoming easier. "Okay, now. Got the wind knocked out of me, I must have landed wrong." Must have, you know that you did, otherwise you couldn’t have pulled her out of the way.’

The thought of what could have transpired shot through Garrett’s mind like a bolt of lightning. She hastily closed her eyes then opened them trying to get a fix on the blonde hair that could have been separated from its body, had things happened differently. She looked over at Danni’s face, never gladder to see it than at this very moment.

The boxcars had stopped moving and the noise had quieted when the pair of baggy pant-covered legs came into Danni’s view.

"Hey! You people want to get hurt or something? You can’t lay down in the middle of the tracks like that." The railroad worker stood on the side of the tracks. He had gotten off the engine to check the coupling before the boxcars were led to there place in line.

The women slowly crawled out from under the connection and began dusting their clothing off as they stood next to the worker.

"What the hell were you two doing, trying to commit suicide?" His voice was now becoming more agitated.

"I wanted to know how the coupling worked." Danni spoke as she dusted off her pants. His eyes glared at her. "Don’t worry, I understand how it works now, you won’t have to do it again." She smiled politely as she raised her hands, declining any further need for a demonstration.

Garrett came up angry. Her temper was quick to spark at the cause of the near fiasco. "Don’t you people look before you just go and try to kill someone?" She rose from her knees to her full height, towering almost a foot above the man’s head. "No wonder you have a man trapped over there."

She looked over to the scene of the entrapment. The frantic waving of arms was like a message in Morris Code to her, spelling nothing but trouble. "Danni, we’re needed." Her hand reached out to tap the blonde on the shoulder, then she was gone.

The railroad worker stood dumbfounded as he watched the two women make their way across the yard to where they were being beckoned.

The surgeon and the nurse sped across the open yard and began pushing through the throng of rescuers, spurred on by the rush of adrenaline that they had going from the near accident of their own.

The Paramedic that was with the entrapped man met them. "Hey Doc!" He waved them over to himself. "He’s in a heap of pain. My protocols won’t allow me to give him anything else."

Garrett nodded in understanding. "He’s going to need more to keep the pain to a bearable level." She could tell that the Medic’s nerves were wearing thin with the magnitude of the situation. "You better go distance yourself for a while." She could see the tension growing in his face.

"But I…" the medic started to protest until Garrett’s steely-colored eyes relieved him of his duty.

"We’ll take over from here." The authority in her voice over powered him and he turned and walked off into the crowd.

Danni sniffed back a tear and nodded. "I’ll stay with him until his wife gets here."

"Dan, if you think he needs anything, just give it. He doesn’t need to experience any pain."

Garrett kept her silent vigil as the man’s wife was soon brought through the crowd. The surgeon could do nothing to help the man and quickly explained this to his wife, making her well aware of the serious nature of the accident. The grief-stricken face of the woman was tugging at her heart as she watched the tender scene unfold before her very eyes.

The surgeon was amazed at the concern her patient had for the welfare of his wife. It was as if what happened to him was of no importance. She didn’t understand the man’s concern at all. His feelings seemed foreign to her. Most patients fought to cling to life, placing all emphasis on themselves and their goal to survive. She never anticipated a love beyond one’s self by such a common and seemingly uneducated man as this.

Danni left the man’s side when his wife arrived, affording them the privacy that they needed to convey their last sentiments. It made her think of her own life and brought home the importance of not waiting until it was too late to tell people that they mattered. The nurse could feel the sting of the tears as they ran down her cheeks. It was too emotional of a scene for her tender heart to take.

After several minutes, the young wife was escorted away and the railroad employees readied to uncouple the cars.

The patient’s last words were to his rescuers, thanking them for trying to help him. He had commended them on their valiant effort and at the same time apologized for the cruel hand that fate had dealt them. At the end of his small speech, he nodded to his fellow worker that he was ready.

The sound of metal scraping on metal grated on one’s nerves. The signal was given and the engine pulled the car away from the other. The life drained out of his face as the final realization set into his soul. These were the last visions he would see of this world. It was over in no time, the pool of blood soaking into the ground underneath his lifeless body.

Garrett Trivoli knelt on one side of the patient as Danni clung to his hand willing that he would feel her spirit until the end. The surgeon bent down and closed his eyelids. She looked down at her watch then spoke the words for those around to hear. "Time of death, 2037."

There was nothing more for the Flight Team to do now but go home.

[hrharrisonslibrary]

The White Cat

Since this collection is now out of print, I wanted to put this story up for everyone to read! 

An aging king gives his sons three tasks in order to win the crown. The eldest is bitter at being denied what he sees as his birthright. The second son is ambitious, eager to prove himself greater than the eldest. But the third son, Yufitri, the youngest, is only eager for the chance to adventure beyond the thumb of his brothers and father. 

He travels to the strangest land he can imagine—the countries beyond the northern sea. Once there, he meets a white cat who knows magic enough to win him the throne, should he want it. But instead of the responsibility of running a kingdom, Yufitri begins to discover that what he really wants is perhaps the cat itself…

Rating: T

Content warning: some gore and violence

Word count: ~16k

The old king looked out at the courtyard, watching his three sons going through their sword drills, and was suddenly struck by a terrible realization. He had three strong, intelligent, and charismatic sons. And he was only one old man. Should the idea be planted in their heads, whether by chance or by nefarious purpose, he could easily find himself deposed long before his proper time.

So he returned to his wing of the castle, and he began to plot.

--

That night, at the evening feast, the king made his announcement. "My dear sons, I have grown old, and too soon the time will come for one of you to take my place. However, as you are all suitable candidates for the throne, I have a proposition for you. You shall all undertake three quests, and whosoever is the most successful shall win my crown."

The eldest frowned, but his brothers rejoiced. The second brother because he wanted the throne for himself, but the youngest cheered for a different reason. Always he had been the baby of the brothers, always sheltered, always forbidden from anything even slightly dangerous. But this, this was a call to adventure!

"For one year, I want you three to seek out the finest little dogs to be a companion to me in my old age. Whosoever brings me the sweetest, prettiest dog shall be declared the victor."

As the brothers left to their quarters to prepare for their journeys, the youngest, whose name was Yufitri, was busy deciding where it was he would go. Instead of going to his wing, he went out into the town and found the merchants' tents. "Where should I travel to find the little dog my father seeks?" he asked them.

He received many answers, but a sallow-skinned man with dark, clever eyes smiled and said with an accented tongue, "I know many breeders of companion dogs in the north, across the sea. I would be happy to take you there, my prince. For a price, of course."

After haggling over the cost, Yufitri agreed to meet the merchant at the docks come week's end and returned to his home. He packed quickly and lightly, making sure to bring his heavy wool coat to ward off the biting chill that he could only imagine the sea and northern lands would have.

His brothers had decided to travel east and south, so Yufitri was quite happy with his decision. At the end of the week, the three brothers agreed to meet at the river's mouth in one year's time, so that they could return to their father together. They embraced and wished each other well. The two elders saw the younger to the docks, where they waved at the departing ship until it was fully out of sight.

Yufitri was ecstatic during the journey, asking the merchant many questions about the ship, the sea, their destination—anything he could think of. By the time the ship landed, a little over a week later, the merchant was quite happy to be rid of him. He agreed to meet the prince in eleven months' time, took his money, and went into the city to peddle his wares.

Yufitri, meanwhile, in halting, uncertain speech, asked where he could find a pretty little dog. His royalty was kept secret to avoid purse-snatchers and scoundrels who would seek to take advantage. The merchants kept sending him farther and farther north, but none of the dogs he found were to his satisfaction. He was certain that his brothers had found ones far prettier at better known markets. In addition, the climate of this strange new land was surprisingly similar to the one he knew, if wetter. His coat stayed folded and tucked into his bag, and Yufitri was getting rather irritated with the entire venture. Finally, an old seller told him of an eccentric breeder of tiny dogs who lived in the northern mountains.

And as our Yufitri looked at the snow-capped mountains, so far away as to appear blue and purple against the sky, his lust for adventure blossomed once more in his chest. He hired a guide and they were soon off. The guide was a small man with pale skin and red ears, and his hair was a pale yellow hair so thin it seemed to float above his head.

Yufitri was fascinated by this pallid man with such strange features and enjoyed watching him in the driver's seat of the cart of goods he was bringing north, the secret prince nestled among them. The sun turned the guide's cheeks and neck the same red as his ears, and he grumbled words Yufitri didn't understand as he rubbed at the irritated skin with some sort of pleasant-smelling ointment.

As the mountains grew larger on the horizon, the air got colder, and Yufitri's coat got used after all. His guide also gave him a pair of socks to wear as they began to climb.

Yes, this was what he had been expecting on his journey north. His breath escaped in puffs of smoke, and his teeth chattered even as he burrowed closer into his coat. But they chattered below a grin, and when his guide reached the village he'd been traveling to, he gave Yufitri directions towards the breeder, pointing up towards the cloudy peaks. The locals, pale-skinned and red-cheeked as the guide, stared at Yufitri's strange clothes and his sandy skin.

A local innkeeper gave him vague directions, and, newly supplied courtesy of the small marketplace, Yufitri set off on the next leg of his journey. The woods that bordered the town were dark and deep, and the trees were strange to him, tall and narrow, with coils of spines instead of leaves. The path through was narrow and overgrown and was soon lost to him. He wandered in vain until the sun set, throwing all into darkness.

Filled with despair, Yufitri continued to wander, praying he would find any sort of exit. However, just as he was about give up, he spotted the twinkle of firelight in the distance. Ignoring the roots that sought to ensnare him, he stumbled towards it and soon found himself before a large castle. There were no guards on the ramparts, or manning the gate. In fact, it looked deserted, but for the light spilling out from the windows.

Hoping that whoever was inside was at least friendly, Yufitri walked up to the main door and banged on it as loudly as he could. It opened more quickly than he was expecting, catching him mid-bang, his momentum carrying him forward into the entrance hall. He looked around but saw no one.

There was a tug on his coat. He whirled around to find a pair of pale floating hands, palms out in a gesture of surrender. Yufitri was torn between fear and rabid curiosity.

The fear would have won out if there hadn't been the sound of scratching down a hallway, and an approaching light.

Held by another pair of floating hands was a lantern, in which's light he could see a small white cat. It walked with dignity and purpose that Yufitri had never seen on a cat before, and its silver collar was studded with precious gems.

When the cat reached him, it sat, peering up at him with gleaming green eyes. "Hello, king's son. You have come far to reach this place."

Dumbfounded, he looked around for a person, or perhaps a floating mouth, but no, it had definitely been the cat that spoke.

Wait. He'd had no difficulty understanding the cat's words. "You speak my language?" he asked.

The cat nodded its head. "In a fashion. Spells of understanding and communicating are fairly simple. I hear myself in my tongue, but you hear yours. I can remove it, if you wish."

"No, I appreciate it. It feels as if it's been years since I could speak plainly."

The cat seemed to smile. "Come," it said, standing and half-turning toward the corridor it had come from. "Warm yourself by the fire, king's son. I am sure you are unused to this chill."

This time Yufitri did not object to the hands taking his coat, and he followed the cat and the lantern deeper into the castle. They passed beautiful tapestries and opulent decorations as they walked.

"Oh," he said. "I didn't introduce myself. My name is—"

"Do not tell me."

"What?"

The cat stopped and turned, looking him straight in the face. "Names hold tremendous power, especially here. Do not tell me your name, and I will not tell you mine. That way, there is balance."

"But you know who I am. What difference would my name make?"

The cat shook its head and continued forward. "It makes every difference. I know what you are. I know you are a king's son from a distant land. But knowing your name gives me power over your soul, your essence. I do not want that power over you."

Yufitri frowned. "I don't understand."

"The magic of this land is strange to you. But I assure you, I do this for your benefit." They reached a room. The stone floor was draped in a rich, soft rug, and the couches set up near the fireplace looked soft and comfortable.

The cat dismissed the lantern with a flick of its tail and padded over to a soft chair, into which it leaped and curled up. "Sit," it told him.

He sank down into the couch with a sigh of contentment. "... Are you truly a cat?" he asked suddenly.

It opened one eye, regarding him in the firelight. "At the moment, yes," it answered. "I can tell you nothing more."

"Did you want to be a cat?"

"I can tell you nothing, king's son."

"Is that a part of the spell?"

The cat said nothing, so Yufitri assumed that the answer was yes and laid down across the couch, feeling his vertebrae crack.

The heat and softness threatened to make him fall asleep. The fire crackled, the cat purred, and the couch seemed to get softer with every passing moment. His eyes slid shut, but before he could really fall asleep, he felt someone shake his shoulder gently. He looked up at another pair of floating hands, which seemed to be urging him to wake and follow.

He looked at the cat, still curled up on the chair. "Follow them," it said. "They'll take you to a proper bedchamber. Did you really think in a castle as grand as this that a host would have you sleep on a sofa?"

So up he got, following the hands down a different hallway, but not before bidding the cat a good night and pleasant dreams.

--

The next day, Yufitri woke to gentle hands shaking his shoulder and pointing toward a set of unfamiliar clothing folded atop the chest at the foot of the bed. Two pairs of hands helped him undress, then put on the foreign clothes. A short shirt with tight sleeves and short pants came first, and then a longer shirt that ended at his knees and buckled at the waist. It had tight sleeves only to the elbow and then fell open, dangling strangely around the long sleeves of the first shirt. Finally, soft deerskin shoes.

He felt like his top half had been overstuffed, and his legs felt oddly bare, but he found that, as he acclimated to the unfamiliar clothing, he was much warmer. A long cloak was draped over his shoulders and fastened with a pin.

Now that he was fully dressed, the hands gave him a gentle push toward the door and led him down to the dining hall. The white cat sat at the head of the long table, sitting primly on a velvet cushion so it could look over the empty dishes. The rest of the table, save for one seat, was filled with other cats, of varying size and color. Their eyes watched him as he entered, jewel-bright and glittering. He felt a bit intimidated, but took the empty chair beside the white cat, sitting at its right.

Green eyes gleamed at him, and the cat inclined its head politely. "I am glad the clothes suit you, king's son. Don't worry, you can have yours back when you leave. I am having them washed."

"Did they offend?" Yufitri couldn't help a smirk.

The cat seemed to smile, its eyes narrowing softly. "A little. Cats have very delicate noses." The rest of the table started to purr, presumably in amusement. The food began to emerge from the kitchen, carried by the floating hands. He was surprised how quickly he was getting used to them.

However, he was not excited to see that plates seemed to contain an opening course of roasted mouse. The cat saw his face and called a pair of hands over with a paw. "Make sure our guest gets his proper meal," it said. "I will not be the sort of host who serves food unfit for human consumption."

The hands came together and dipped forward, as if bowing, and returned to the kitchen.

In a moment, there was a bowl of warm soup in front of Yufitri, white and steaming. "Milk and potato are the main ingredients," the cat said comfortingly. "No mouse or rat has touched it." A purr snuck into its voice. "Though I can do nothing about the cat hair. A hazard of a cat-ruled kitchen, you see."

"I … also do not consume swine or cow, dear cat. Though I've no such objection to accidental fur." He smiled.

"I shall have a note made." Sure enough, it told the nearest set of hands to have that taken to the kitchen.

The potato stew was excellent. The main course was two large birds, each carried by two sets of hands. The cats were very well-mannered, cutting slices off with their claws, taking only small bites. The white cat was the most polite of all, patting delicately at its face and whiskers with the napkin sitting beside the plate.

After the meal, the rest of the cats leapt from their chairs, returning to whatever their business was, leaving Yufitri and the white cat.

"Would you care to join me in the drawing room?" asked the cat. It jumped off the cushion, landing primly on its feet and looking back at Yufitri. "I am curious about whatever quest brought you to this strange land, and I'm sure you have questions for me, though there is little I can answer."

"I would be glad to," he said.

--

The drawing room was small, and it was dominated by a large table that had a map laminated to the wood. The cat jumped up onto it, laying itself down across the smooth, waxy surface. "So," it said, flicking its tail from side to side. "Your father has you seeking out a pretty little dog. Why did you come all the way here?"

He shrugged and sat down on a long couch near the table. "I wanted to see the world, and across the sea seemed like the most interesting way to go."

"Do you want to win the competition?"

Again, he shrugged. "Being a king is a lot of responsibility and work. I'd rather spend my time exploring, to be frank."

"I enjoy your frankness." The cat purred, rolling onto its back, squinting its eyes at him. "And I shall help you in your quest, if you will allow me to."

"I would be honored, dear cat."

"I do have a request, though."

"You must only ask."

The cat purred softly. "Stay for a few more months. It has been so long since I had human company."

Yufitri readily agreed.

--

The next day, the cat showed him the hunt. He wasn't exactly sure how the cat was effectively riding the lovely gray mare it was, but he wasn't about to ask. The cat explained that normally there were dogs involved, but they didn't normally enjoy feline company, so the hunting animals were the cats from the previous day's gathering. Cats, Yufitri learned, hunted like hyenas, though they were much quieter.

The foxes and pheasant that were caught ended up on the night's dinner table, from which everyone, cat and prince alike, ate with gusto.

That night, when Yufitri woke in the middle of the night, he found the cat curled up in the curve of his legs, and decided not to wake it.

It was gone by morning. So Yufitri decided it wasn't worth mentioning.

--

The next few months passed in similar pleasantness. Yufitri watched as the plants in the garden turned brown as autumn came, then were buried in the winter snows. He discovered that snow was lovely—wet and cold and exhilarating. The cat bounced its way through, its white fur making it disappear into the powder, only its green eyes and pink nose visible. And when they came inside to sit around the fire and warm up, he watched the snow turn to dew on its back, glittering like it had been dipped into a vat of diamonds.

The cat taught him the language of the land, purring in amusement as his tongue fumbled but gently correcting all the same. And in exchange, he shared the language of his people and told the cat their stories: of the violent god of storms and the desert, the usurper, keeper of swine; of the lord of the dead who died and rose again, and the loyal wife who saved him, goddess of magic; of the bull-headed god of war and righteousness, and others.

The cat listened well, sitting across from him or by his side, eyes following the motions of his lips or hands as he told his stories.

And every night, Yufitri would wake to find the cat on his bed, curled against his legs or his back, and said nothing.

But as spring came again, manifesting in new green in the trees and in the palace gardens, the cat grew somber. "You must leave soon, king's son," it said one morning at breakfast.

He sighed. "Yes, I'm afraid so, dear cat."

Ears back and tail agitated, the cat jumped down from its chair. "Come with me. I shall give you your gift."

Back in the drawing room, the cat leapt up onto the bookshelves, scaling easily up to a small chest sitting on top. From it, it retrieved a hazelnut and carried it gently back down to the floor, bringing it to Yufitri.

"Inside that," it explained, as Yufitri turned it over in his hands, "is the prettiest little dog you will ever see. It is sweet natured and gentle. Take care not to open it before you reach your home, or the poor thing may catch cold."

He wasn't sure how a dog could possibly fit in such a place, but he trusted the cat. Besides, he didn't mind losing the competition. In fact, he found he didn't truly want to leave at all.

But leave he did. The cat sent one of the tabbies with him into the forest, to show him the way back to the village he came from, its face impassive. But Yufitri knew it was sad to see him go. He almost promised to return, but what good would a promise do if he couldn't keep it? He kept it to himself, thanked the cat for the hospitality and gift, and bid it farewell. He turned to look back every few moments until the palace was swallowed up by the forest and disappeared from view.

The journey home began strangely. Upon reaching the village, and bidding the tabby farewell, Yufitri went to buy supplies for his travels. A few of the townsfolk recognized him, whispering to one another as he passed by, throwing a word around that he didn't quite understand, but he didn't know how to ask them to explain.

When he reached the sea once more, the sallow-skinned merchant was surprised to see him. "I have to say, I didn't expect your return. The northern mountains are a dangerous place. Did you succeed in your quest?"

Yufitri shrugged. "We shall see."

The merchant certainly didn't see any dog, but he wasn't being paid to ask questions. He did notice the quietness of his charge, as opposed to his talkativeness of the previous year, but said nothing about it.

When Yufitri reached the docks, he found one of his brothers. They embraced, shedding brief tears, and went to find the eldest. The brothers explained that they had been coming to the docks every few days, hoping for Yufitri's return, praying that he would. They showed off their dogs, tiny, delicate little things, with narrow muzzles and tall ears, but when they asked after his dog, he only smiled and bid them to wait until they were before their father.

Mystified, but curious, they agreed to wait.

--

Their father threw a feast to celebrate his sons' return, refusing to examine their dogs until after the festivities were complete. The elder brothers regaled the court with tales of their adventures, but Yufitri remained quiet, remembering his conversations with the cat, holding them in his mind so they wouldn't fade like a dream in sunlight.

"Come, Yufitri, tell us your stories," his father encouraged. "What is it like in the land across the sea?"

So, he told some stories of the people of the port cities, and of the red-eared people of the mountains, but the cat stayed locked away, too precious to share.

Finally, the king sighed, rubbed his stomach and sat back from the table. "All right, show me your dogs, my sons, and let us see who shall take this challenge."

The eldest, Badis, went first, carrying in his dog from the east, thin-boned and ebony-black. The king held it carefully; it was so delicate, as if it were spun glass.

Next, the middle son, Amestan, presented his dog from the south, a bit larger and with mottled brown and black fur. It was friendlier and a little hardier than  Badis', but the king didn't seem that impressed by it.

Finally, Yufitri stepped forward, removing the hazelnut from his bag. "Where is your dog, son?" the king asked.

Taking the nut by the seams, Yufitri cracked it open. Out fell a tiny, fluffy little thing, pale gold in color and too big to have fit in the hazelnut, but still only the size of his hand. Scooping it up, he handed it to his father, who marveled. "What is this magic, son?"

Yufitri shrugged. "The magic of the northern lands is strange."

"It seems like it." The king was enchanted by the sweet little thing. It stood on his flattened palm, wagging its fluffy tail, tongue lolling happily from its minuscule mouth. It licked the king's thumb.

The brothers grumbled, knowing that they had lost, while Yufitri smiled, knowing that he had been wise indeed to trust in his friend, the cat.

When the king formally declared Yufitri the winner, no one was surprised. "Now, your next task shall begin next week. You are to find me a skein of cloth so fine that that it can pass through the eye of a needle. Not a large needle either; a proper clothing needle."

His sons looked at each other, all of them wondering where in the world they could find such a thing.

"I shall go north again," Yufitri declared, as the boys left the dining hall. His brothers wondered if they too should go, but in the end, they decided not to. The finest cloth was made in the east, after all, so they decided to go together and split at the great river. Yufitri only half listened as they spoke, already planning his journey back across the sea.

--

The merchant laughed upon seeing Yufitri again so soon. "Did you meet a girl, Your Highness?" he joked.

Yufitri only smiled and held out a pouch of gold.

--

After a month's journey, he found himself once again in the forest that hid the cat's palace. He wandered until the sun disappeared from the sky and only the red glow of sunset lit his circuitous path, but still the castle did not appear. As the near full moon appeared overhead, marking an entire day's desperate search, he fell to the ground and despaired. He was thoroughly and utterly lost now, without any idea where even the end of the forest lay.

A rustle in the undergrowth. A large, fluffy black cat emerged from the brush, regarding Yufitri with large golden eyes. "Please…" he said, reaching towards it. "Take me back to that palace. You can understand me, can't you?"

The cat stayed still, flicking its tail from side to side.

"Please," he said again. "Take me back."

It licked its nose and disappeared into woods. Yufitri tried to follow, but it was gone. Choking back frustration and tears, he sank once more to the forest floor, wrapping his arms around himself as the night's chill began to settle around him. Perhaps the castle moved. It was clearly an enchanted thing. Perhaps the cat even moved it—obviously it knew something of magic. Perhaps he wasn't allowed back. The cat had been sad to see him go, maybe so sad that it had left the forest, along with the castle.

A little while later, a new sound caught Yufitri's attention. Hoofbeats.

He leapt to his feet, looking towards the source, his eyes straining in the dark.

A gray mare appeared, and seated on its back… a pretty little white cat. Another horse was tied to the saddle, walking obediently behind. "Hello, king's son," the cat said, its voice warm. "I hadn't expected to see you again so soon, if at all. Come, I shall see that you're fed and housed."

He clambered onto the back of the horse, a handsome tan gelding, and together they rode back through the forest. The castle loomed into view after no more than ten minutes.

"Is the castle enchanted?" he asked.

The cat nodded. "Yes. It cannot be found by one seeking it who does not live within."

"Why?"

"I should be able to tell you in due time. However, for now, I can say only that."

"Even the castle is tied to your spell?"

The cat could only nod.

The horses walked freely to the stables, where floating hands waited to put them away, removing the saddles and other bits of tack after the cat had jumped softly down to the ground. "Come, king's son. You must be half-starved from your journey."

They supped in the kitchen, the cat perched on the edge of the servants' table while Yufitri ate his fill of fish stew and bread. The kitchen cats crept around them, directing the floating hands with outstretched paws and short, firm meows.

"I truly didn't expect to see you again," it said. "Your home is far from here, and there is no one here besides me with whom you can speak."

"My father has set us with an impossible task, so I wanted the excuse to come see you.

"Oh? And what task is that?"

Yufitri explained as he finished his food. With a wave of the cat's paw, a small cake was brought over to him by a pair of hands. "Did you have this made for me especially?"

"You are a dear guest. You deserve only the finest I can offer. And I can help you with your father's request. I only ask that you spend more time here with me." Knowing that the cat regarded him as more than a simple distraction or entertainment warmed Yufitri's heart. With his brothers as overprotective as they were, it had never been easy for Yufitri to have a friend all his own.

He smiled. "That was my plan all along, dear cat."

--

The next day, he woke to the cat sitting on the end of his bed, its body upright and alert, tail flicking quickly from side to side.

"Good morning, king's son," it said.

"Good morning... What's wrong?"

"I have a proposition for you."

Yufitri sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I am listening."

"Shall I teach you something of magic?" Those green eyes gleamed with excitement.

"I don't know if I am suitable …"

"Magic is not a question of suitability, it is a matter of knowledge and practice... But if you have no desire to learn, I shall not force you."

He mulled it over. "It would be an honor to be given the chance to try."

The cat purred. "Excellent. Let me show you to my chambers."

Feeling a bit excited to see the cat's wing of the castle for the first time, he followed.

The cat lived in the east tower wing, through a heavy wooden door and up a winding staircase. Once they reached a landing, the stairs opened up into a cozy circular sitting room. The fabrics and cushions were lush reds and purples, trimmed in gold. Not for the first time, he wondered who the cat had been before, to have such a regal bearing and lavish belongings. "This is the parlor," the cat said. "Come, one more flight up."

Yufitri followed it up to another landing. This room, the same size as the last, was full of bound leather tomes on mahogany shelves, and various jars and baskets full of what could only be called spell ingredients—dried plants, crystals, preserved bits of various animals. In the center, a vivid seal was painted on the stone floor in red. It looked like two squares painted on top of one another, enclosed in a large circle. Inside it, a six-pointed star's edges touched the interior octagon. A strange rune lay in the absolute center. "What does it mean?" he asked softly, approaching it.

"It's a spell-circle. That's where I perform magic." The cat walked to the center of it and sat down. "But first, we have to go over the basics."

It bolted over to one of the bookshelves, as cats do, Yufitri at its heels. "Take that book there, the green one."

He did so, looking at the drawings and careful lettering on the pages, unable to understand any of it.

"Do you remember how I told you that knowing your name would allow me to do magic on you?"

Yufitri nodded.

"To perform a spell or enchantment on something or someone, you must first know its true name. For natural objects, generally they are called simply what they are. A stone is normally called 'Stone' in spellcraft, except, of course, if that stone contains crystals, which are highly magical and very capricious. Man-made objects are named by their creators. Functional objects are usually given the name of their function: 'Table', 'Chair', 'Pot', et cetera. But some objects, usually ones that require more time and skill to craft, will have unique names—weapons being a prime example."

The cat paused, looking toward a longsword that hung on the wall. "That sword is named 'Spinecutter'. It has a bit of a history involving decapitation."

He didn't know what to say to that. "You're speaking in generalities. Can objects sometimes not have the name you expect?"

"Yes. It's one of those unpredictable parts of magic. An apprentice's first craft, for instance, will sometimes bear a name like 'Beginning' or 'Future Success' or even 'Failure', should it not turn out as skilled as the master's. And for people, sometimes their true name is not the one given by their parents, though this is very rare."

"I see…" Though the explanation made sense, how it applied to the world Yufitri knew was unclear. He had no context for how the magic of this realm worked and frankly had no aptitude for even the magic of his homeland. But he'd always learned best by doing, so asking the cat further questions would be of little help.

"But," said the cat, quieting slightly. "For now, let's do some simple shrinking and growing spells."

--

Much to his chagrin, it seemed that Yufitri had little aptitude for magic of all kinds, familiar or foreign. Still, by the time came for him to leave, he could at least grow and shrink simple objects, which the cat assured him was a normal level to be at for a beginner.

When the eve of his departure came, the cat brought him to its bedroom. Like the tower sitting room, it was ornately decorated, with a large soft canopy bed wrapped in dark violet dominating the room. The cat fetched a walnut from the side table, laying it softly in Yufitri's outstretched hand.

"This holds the cloth which will pass through the eye of a needle. I wish you luck in the competition with your brothers."

He looked at the nut in his palm, rolled it around. "I find myself unwilling to go, dear friend."

"But go you must. Your family will think you dead. Do you really wish for them to bear that burden?"

He sighed and put the nut into his bag. "No, I suppose not. But rest assured that I will return when the final challenge is given, regardless of what it is. I trust you more than anyone to assist."

The cat was quiet for a moment. "You do me a great honor," it said at last, lowering its head.

Carefully, he reached forward, touching his fingertips to the cat's soft fur, stroking. After initially fluffing up in surprise, it leaned into his hand, purring, eyes closed. Smiling, Yufitri brought both hands to the cat's head, scratching under its chin and across its jaw.

For a long while, they stayed like that. Finally, he scooped the cat up into his arms, cradling it against his shoulder. "I will return, I swear it."

--

The black cat from before led him back to the village, mewing a small goodbye as it ran back into the brush.  

With months of practice, Yufitri was now comfortable with the language of the land, and he made conversation with the man he hired to take him to the coast. But when he casually asked about the castle in the woods, the man turned pale and quiet.

"We do not discuss that forest, sir."

"Why?"

"We do not discuss it, sir."

Thus foiled, Yufitri went back to pleasant small talk and silence for the rest of the journey.

--

This time he found his brothers already at the palace. They embraced and discussed their respective journeys, Yufitri keeping quiet about the cat, as before.

"Come, Yufitri, tell us about your lover!" Amestan joked. "She must be quite the beauty, for you to hold her so close to your heart."

He only smiled. "She is dear indeed, and so she'll remain a secret for now."

"Well," Badis said. "I ended up going back south, after little success in the east. And I believe I've met my future bride." His face lit up, black eyes gleaming. "She is absolutely stunning. Her skin is polished ebony, her eyes are full of stars, her lips are full and smile easily—"

"Calm yourself, brother!" Amestan said, clapping him on the shoulder. "We believe you, there's no reason to wax poetic."

Their father approached from around the corner, greeting his sons warmly, a knowing smile hidden beneath his beard.

--

After the feast celebrating their return, the sons presented their cloth.

Badis went first, showing off the pale white fabric from the south. But the king produced a tiny embroidery needle as the head through which to pass, and try as the eldest son might, it would not go through.

Amestan brought out a pale red fabric from the east, so light that it seemed to float on the air as he pulled it from his bag. But, even though the deep tan of the king's skin could be seen through it, it too would not pass through.

Finally, Yufitri stood and held up the walnut. With his knife, he cracked it open, revealing … a hazelnut. Upon cracking that, he found another, even smaller nut. His brothers looked at each other, concern on their faces. Sweat prickled on the back of Yufitri's neck, but he cracked the third nut as well, revealing a tiny millet seed.

But, with the flat of the knife, he crushed it open, and pulled forth a length of cloth that could only be likened to air given form. It drifted as he lifted it from the table, fluttering on a near-imagined breeze.

The king handed him the needle. Carefully, so as not to rip it, he pinched the corner of the cloth, guiding it to the eye.

It passed through smoothly, its form serpentine as it was pulled through.

Marveling, the king ran his hands over the beautiful cloth, his fingers making no sound as he stroked it. "Now, I know that our Yufitri has won each challenge so far, but do not think you boys have lost yet. There is one more challenge, and it is a test of many skills: charisma, cleverness, and foresight, among others."

The brothers all stood in silence, paying the utmost attention.

"You must bring here your bride. A proper wife is beautiful, yes, but she must also be wise and clever enough to care for you and your affairs, and she must be well-spoken, as she is to serve the people at your sides. I trust, after all your adventures, that there is at least one woman you can think of.

"Tomorrow, you shall embark on one more journey. And after that, I will determine who best suits the throne I will leave behind."

Badis, thinking of his beauty, was grinning. Amestan had a small, shy smile on his face, twisting his collar as he stood there lost in thought.

Yufitri, however, could think only of his dear friend the cat, and how on earth it was going to help him with this particular request.

--

When Yufitri reached the castle's forest, the black cat from before was waiting to greet him. It pranced slowly and carefully through the woods, looking over its shoulder now and again to make sure it hadn't lost its charge.

When they entered, the hands took his outerwear and the cat scurried off, presumably to tell the white cat of his arrival. And sure enough, as he was warming his hands by the fire, the cat approached, purring softly.

"It does my heart good to see you again, king's son, though this will be the last of your visits," it said.

He leaned down to stroke the cat's face and neck. "You think I would not return? You are dear to me, my friend."

The cat purred louder. "The past has not been kind to me, dear prince. Please forgive my cynicism; you have done nothing that would merit it." It pulled away from his hand, but only so it could leap up onto the couch beside him, curling against his side. "What is your final task?"

With a sigh, Yufitri went back to petting the cat. "I'm to bring home a bride," he said quietly.

The cat stilled under his hand, suddenly tense. "... I see."

"I didn't come here expecting you to be able to give one to me," he said quickly. "I just wanted to seek your counsel."

"I can help you," the cat said slowly, moving out from under his hand and slinking back to the floor. "But first, you must trust me."

"I do!"

"Would you do as I ask without question?"

"Yes."

"Even if you don't understand the reason?"

"Yes, of course." He thought back to the cloth in the millet seed. "Were the nuts a test of trust?"

The cat nodded. "Had you given up on me, you would have not returned."

"I trust you, my dear cat. With my life, should you need it."

It shook its head. "I do not need your life, I need only your hands... Come with me."

He followed it back to the eastern tower and up to the spell room. The cat sat down in the center of the circle, its eyes shining through the gloom of twilight. "Do you remember that sword's name?" it asked, indicating the longsword on the wall.

"I believe it is Spinecutter? You said it had a history of… decapitation."

"I did. It is enchanted to do just that... My dear prince, I need you to cut off my head."

His stomach dropped, his whole body contracting with sudden nausea. "But…"

"Do you trust me?" the cat asked again. Its voice rang loudly in the small room, pressing against Yufitri's ears.

"I… I do… But… dear cat, I've no desire to kill you." His voice cracked on 'kill'. He felt limp and cold, as if his blood had turned to mud in his veins. Why would the cat ask this of him? Surely the hands could wield a blade, if it had to be done. Why him?

"I cannot tell you what will happen. I may die, I may live. But I need you to trust me. Take up the sword, and strike truly."

Closing its eyes, the cat stretched out its neck and waited.

Stilling his trembling hands, he took the sword from the wall, blood pounding relentlessly against his ears and behind his eyes. His entire field of view was shaking.

The cat's ears twisted, following his movements, but its eyes remained shut, its posture firm.

Yufitri came to stand before it, sword held in a white-knuckled grip. "Are you sure?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Do it."

The blow was eerily accurate, slicing cleanly through the notches of the spine. The little head fell to the ground with a soft thump, followed by the larger thud of the body.

Spinecutter clattered to the ground, drops of slick red blood dotting the floor around the growing pool. Yufitri sobbed openly, tears burning their ways down his cheeks. He fell to his knees, staring fixedly at the body before him, waiting desperately for something to happen.

For several agonizing moments—or were they eternities?—nothing did.

But then there was a twitch in the body, like something writhing within it.

Something was pushing its way out.

Like the dog from the hazelnut and the cloth from the millet seed, what emerged was far too big for its container.

It was a person.

The young man pulled himself free from the discarded skin, wiping blood and tears from his eyes. His skin was milky pale, with short hair as white as the cat he had worn, and eyes the very same vivid green.

He stood, shakily, onto two legs. Then, in a fit of fury, he grabbed the head and threw it to the stone floor, smashing the skull to pieces.

Even in naked savagery, blood streaked across his white skin, marring that pale, pale hair, he was beautiful.

Then he met gazes with Yufitri, and smiled, the anger falling from his face as quickly as it had appeared. Yufitri's stomach dropped again, but this time for an entirely different reason.

Smooth, cool hands touched his blotchy face, wiping away the remainders of tears. "Thank you," he said, and his voice was both like and unlike the cat's, a warm tenor that made heat bloom in Yufitri's chest.

"I don't…" He licked his lips. "Understand…"

"Let me quickly clean and dress myself, and then I will answer every question you could even think of asking, my dear, sweet prince."

The white man hurried up the stairs into his bedroom, something of the cat lingering in the elegance of his movement.

Bewildered and feeling a bit wrung out, he stayed in place on the floor, his eyes sliding over the carnage without really seeing it.

The former cat emerged, now clean and dressed in the same rich violets and reds that Yufitri remembered seeing in his bedroom. He was much more imposing now, the vulnerability of his nakedness and anger now carefully wrapped in gold-edged cloth.

Footsteps on the stairs. Yufitri turned to look. It was a young woman, thick black hair and a face that called to mind something of the sea merchant—dark, clever eyes and small features. She was hastily dressed in a loose sack dress and bare feet. "My lord," she croaked, tears welling in her eyes.

The white man gave her a small smile. "Yes, Luisa, all is well. I trust you to take charge of the kitchen and arrange a celebratory feast? Something without mice would be lovely."

"Right away, my lord!"

She scampered back down the stairs, waiting until the door latched closed to start directing the other servants.

The man smiled more broadly, looking down at Yufitri. "Should we talk in my room? I don't think the gore makes for an appropriate atmosphere for stories."

With a small nod, he got to his feet, ignoring the blood drying on his knees, and followed the man back upstairs.

The man settled him in one of the armchairs, every accidental touch sending sparks across Yufitri's skin, and then sat on the bed. "Shall I start at the beginning?" he asked.

"Please."

--

"I am the prince of this kingdom, born twenty years ago to the king and queen. However, when my mother still carried me within her, she and my father went hunting in these woods. They had heard rumor of a fairy castle within, but they paid these flights of fancy no mind. But, as night fell, they saw lights in the distance, and followed them to this very palace.

"When the fairies ruled here, the surrounding gardens bloomed year-round with exotic and unknown fruits and vegetables. My mother saw and was amazed. She coveted the fruits and flowers, and tried to scale the low wall to take some for herself.

"However, the elder fairy had no tolerance for thievery, and caught her before she could take even one bite. My mother begged and begged. Finally, the fairy agreed that perhaps a trade could be arranged. She pointed to my mother's stomach, which was only just starting to stretch outward, and said that she would trade as much fruit as my mother could carry for the child growing under her breast. She agreed."

Yufitri had such an expression of horror that the man stopped and leaned forward to touch his knee. "You must understand," he said gently. "My parents had been assured by soothsayers and astrologers and prophets that I would be a sickly little girl, one that would likely not live to see a year's life. Since my mother assumed the child would be lost to her anyway, I can understand why she would make the trade."

"That's still horrible…" He thought of his father making such a trade, using him as payment for such a little thing as exotic food, and anger boiled in the pit of his stomach.  

The man shrugged lightly. Clearly the hurt that had been there had long since scarred over—not gone, but no longer painful to touch. "So, deal made, she gathered all the fruit she could and returned to my father. After they'd gorged themselves, she revealed the trade she'd made, and while my father was angry initially, he came to see her reasoning.

"Several months later, I was born and was distinctly not a girl. And despite my pallor giving the appearance of illness, since both of my parents are dark-complected and dark-haired, I seemed perfectly healthy.

"But, false predictions or not, the fairy came for her payment."

"What did she want with a baby, anyway? What exactly is a fairy?" Up until that point, Yufitri had been vaguely reminded of djinn, demons of the eastern merchants, but djinn had no use for children.

"Fairies are magical creatures, fully distinct from mortal ones like you and I. When I perform magic, I'm channeling the energy already in the object and in the objects I use to build the spell. Fairies fuel their spells from their own essence, and it's made more powerful by others' belief in them."

Yufitri furrowed his brow, trying to understand, but he just couldn't seem to wrap his mind around it. "Why?" he asked.  

"Something about the nature of magic being capricious and liable to backfire. For the spells I craft, most of the actual craft is channeling the magic into the right direction. Because fairies are so much more powerful, they need help focusing. So, fairies love children and fools, because they believe in whatever the fairy seeks to do, and so help direct the spell. Does that make sense?"

Yufitri thought about it, but ended up shrugging. "Not exactly, but I believe you... So, they wanted you so they could…?"

"Practice spells with the extra focus my belief would give."

"I see." He paused, considering. "Then, if they wanted you as a child, why did they turn you into a cat? Unless it wasn't the fairies?"

His eyes narrowed, turning cold. "Oh, it was them... My childhood was surprisingly happy. I was enchanted to never leave the woods, but the fairies treated me kindly, and they taught me magic to help pass the time. People came in and out of the woods, some of them runaways, some of them lost, and the fairies took them in, usually at the price of becoming part of my staff. For those with nowhere left to go, it was a godsend. And I was never lonely." His hands, resting in his lap, came together, squeezing tightly. "Then, one day, he came. A traveler like yourself, perhaps even from your own nation. He was… very much like you. A bit younger, perhaps, his beard yet a shadow on his chin. We met by chance in the garden, which he'd entered seeking food and shelter from the summer rain... I loved him madly."

Yufitri's heart stuttered in his chest.

"We met in secret, because I feared the fairies would punish him. If only I knew how severely then. I would have told him to run, leave this country behind him and never look back... But I did not.

"We were together only weeks before we were discovered. The elder fairy drove him from the palace in a fury, letting him think he could escape before she transformed herself into a fierce dragon and descended upon him with claws and flame, swallowing him whole."

For a moment, he stopped talking, throat twitching as he gulped back tears. "He was punished for coveting what was not his... And I was punished as well. My love meant that I was no longer a child, and my defiance meant that I was no longer of use. The elder fairy, my love's blood still on her lips, turned me into a cat and cursed me. I could not speak of it, and it could only be broken by convincing a man very like my poor beloved to cut off the head of the body in which I was trapped.

"Well, there are hardly men like you in this land, let alone in these woods, for the first spell remained. I thought I would be trapped here until my death... And yet, here we sit." He met Yufitri's gaze and smiled. "I am Calixtus. I give you my name, so you may know me."

"It's not as if I could do any magic with it… But I recognize your intent. I am Yufitri."

"Does it have meaning?" Calixtus asked.

Yufitri blushed a bit. "'Handsomer than a star'. My mother named me before she died. Yours?"

"Mine simply means 'beautiful'. My parents had been planning for a girl after all." Another smile, but this one was edged in sorrow. "Your name suits you, Prince Yufitri."

"As does yours, Prince Calixtus." A thought hit him. "The cats! The other cats, where did they come from?"

Calixtus looked up at the sliver of window behind Yufitri's head, eyes far away. "They were the human servants I had when I was turned. They were punished for not knowing sooner."

Yufitri balked. "That is entirely unfair."

"Fairies are not known for their fairness." Though his voice was light, Yufitri could see the bitterness in his tightness of his jaw, and the way his hands curled and uncurled in his lap.

Silence. "So where are they now?"

Calixtus shrugged. "Elsewhere. They went to find a new kingdom, free of the disgrace of this one."

Yufitri thought of the man from before, who'd had such fear in his eyes when asked about the woods. "The villagers refuse to speak of this place. Do you know why?"

The answer was dry. "I presume because a man was eaten by a dragon here."

"Ah…" Yufitri didn't know whether or not Calixtus was expecting him to laugh.

The silence was broken by the sounds of someone walking downstairs. "My lord?" It sounded like the woman from before. "The preparations have been made! Would you like us to begin serving?"

"Yes!" he called, getting to his feet. "Come, Prince." He held out a hand to Yufitri, who took it as he stood. For a moment, the touch lingered, but then he dropped Yufitri's hand like it was ice, smoothing his palm over his shirt.

Yufitri tried to ignore the way it made his chest hurt.

--

It was amazing how small the castle seemed with people bustling around. Though the hands lingered still.

"Those aren't also servants?" Yufitri wondered.

"No, they're spellcraft. They maintain the castle and carry things, but cannot perform tasks like cooking or washing and mending clothes—things that require a certain amount of knowledge to do."

"I see."

When they entered the dining hall, Yufitri was surprised at how many people there suddenly were.

The woman, Luisa, stood near the door, and greeted them as they entered. "My lord! And esteemed guest, of course." She crossed her ankles and bobbed, leaning her head forward. "Dinner will be a roasted goose and as many side dishes as the kitchen can handle." She grinned. "By God, it is good to hear my own voice again after so long!"

"Yes, I agree." He pecked her on the cheek as he passed her, eyes turning back to Yufitri over his shoulder, but Yufitri couldn't read the emotion hidden there.

Dinner was amazing, and wine flowed like water. Yufitri ended the meal with a swollen stomach and a warm, sluggish head. As he made his way back to the guest room, he noticed that Calixtus was skulking behind him, padding silently.

Yufitri stopped and looked at him. Well, he sort of stopped. He got his legs to still, but his body continued to rock with the motion of walking. "Is something wrong?" Had talking always been so difficult? Why was his tongue suddenly so heavy?

"Your father's task. What is it that he's looking for?"

"Knowing my father, a pretty face and nice wide hips," he laughed. "My father, though I love him dearly, is a lecherous old goat behind closed doors." But he frowned and considered the question more seriously. "I don't know. He also said he wanted someone quick and well-spoken, able to handle household affairs and our subjects with equal ease."

"I see."

Finally sensing that something was wrong, Yufitri frowned. Calixtus was very still, his arms crossed tightly over his chest and his head bowed in some deep thought. "What is it?"

"I know a suitable candidate," he said stiffly. "Luisa, can you come here?"

The woman emerged from the dining hall, holding a stack of plates. "What do you need, my lord?"

"Would you want to marry our guest?"

Yufitri coughed in surprise, the sudden movement making his stomach roil in protest. She only narrowly avoided dropping the dishes. "Excuse me, my lord?!"

"P-prince Calixtus, hold on!" Yufitri stammered. "I wouldn't feel comfortable you giving me a person as if she were some sort of gift! And I'd much rather know the woman I marry."

"She knows you well enough," Calixtus said, his voice low and controlled. "She was the black cat who found you in the woods. She is exceedingly fond of you."

Yufitri stared at her. He remembered that cat, and yes, he had been happy to see it when he came across it in the castle—had probably petted its head once or twice. But marry her? Just like that?

"I… It's true," she said quietly. "But I would never! I mean… if you wanted to, of course. But surely you…" She stopped herself, eyes on her lord. "I have to return these to the kitchen to be washed. Please excuse me."

She hurried away, leaving the two princes alone in the dark.

"Let's talk in the guest room, shall we?" Yufitri said.

Calixtus nodded.

--

"What in the world happened back there?" Yufitri asked, sitting down heavily on the edge of the bed and putting his hands on his knees. His head was spinning, both with drink (in which had certainly overindulged) and with confusion.

"I was simply trying to help you as I always have." Calixtus stayed in the doorway, his hands held behind his back, legs spread in a warrior's stance.

"I don't need to win," Yufitri said emphatically. "I've told you this. I'd rather not marry under this kind of pressure anyway." He closed his eyes, but still felt like he was swaying. He tried lying down, but that didn't seem to help either. He kept talking because he couldn't think of what else to do. "The best part about being the youngest son is that you don't have to be king," Yufitri mumbled. "And so you get to choose who you want to marry, unless you have to help make some alliance or whatever. But most of the time, you can do whatever you want. Of course, the only person I've met so far that I'd like to marry is you… Not that my father would ever approve of that. He wants an excuse to have some pretty girls around, since it's all men at the castle since my mom died, not that you're not pretty—that's not what I'm saying…" What was he saying? His head was swimming. Why was the bed moving like he was back at sea? Wait, what was this conversation about? He couldn't even remember. "I just… don't want you to keep troubling yourself for me, I guess."

Something warm nestled against his side, and he reached down automatically to stroke the cat, his hand meeting soft human hair instead. He petted it anyway. "I'd like to marry you too," came a whispered response, but Yufitri was already asleep.

--

With morning came a nail and hammer to Yufitri's head. He groaned as he came into awareness, his eyes squeezed tight shut against the morning sun. Something was set onto the table beside him.

"Drink this," came Calixtus's voice. "It'll help."

He made a fumbling grab, eyes still pulsing red behind the lids, until he felt Calixtus's cool hands on his, guiding the cup to his lips.

After a little while, the headache began to recede, and he was able to crack his eyes open. Calixtus was sitting at the foot of the bed, a scroll covered in black scribbles in his hands. "What are you reading?" Yufitri asked.

"A draft of an explanation to my father. I don't know if he'd still accept me as his heir, but I'm hopeful that he will. Of course, if he's chosen another, it could become a bit of a political mess."

Even the mention of politics made the hangover worse. Yufitri slumped back down onto the pillows. "Don't ever let me drink that much again, please."

There was a smile in his voice when he spoke. "I shall do my best."

The memories from the night before were dark and jumbled. "What… happened last night? I remember that you offered one of your servants to me to bring back to my father. But after that, I don't remember much."

Calixtus's face was impossible to read, his eyes half-lidded, mouth a blank line. Yufitri was beginning to realize that he was just as inscrutable a man as he was a cat.

"You rebuked me for my actions, and insisted once again that I needn't help you with your father's challenge." His mouth quirked downward. "However, I don't know how else to show my gratitude for everything you've done for me."

Yufitri sighed and rolled upright, flopping over so he could look up at Calixtus, the crown of his head just touching his hip. "You don't think you've done enough? You've fed and housed me for nearly two years. You've given me gifts crafted with skill and complex magic, and you think you have not done enough?"

Calixtus looked down at him, setting aside his draft. White fingers traced down Yufitri's nose, pressing softly when they reached the end. "You kept me company those two years, gave me hope that I could one day wear my own face again, and then you turned that hope to reality. You gave me back my life. Nothing can ever repay that. Not even if I could pull the moon from the sky to give to you."

"I don't know what I would do with the moon. Power over tides of the sea and the tides of women… Seems a heavy burden."

He gave a shout of laughter. "I speak such poetry for you! And yet you say that. You are strange and wonderful, my dear prince."

Yufitri smiled. "My head hurts too much to be serious."

"Well, then let me get you some breakfast. That should help too."

"You are a prince among men!"

Calixtus chuckled. "Yes, I am. I'd ask you not to go anywhere, but I trust you won't."

"I won't. This bed is much too lovely."

"I'll return shortly."

The door squeaked shut, and Yufitri rolled over to stare at the ceiling. His head was still sore, throbbing with a dull ache on either side of his eyes, but his heart was warm and full in his chest. It was the first time he'd seen the stoic Calixtus laugh.

--

With breakfast came something of a return to routine. But now, instead of lazily passing time with his friend the cat, Yufitri passed time with a beautiful man who, for all his honesty, still managed to be incredibly mysterious.

That night, Calixtus announced to the servants that those who wished to leave this place were welcome. Only a few ultimately took him up on the offer.

"We're here because there's nowhere else for us, my lord," Luisa said quietly, as others nodded around her. "We will stay by your side."

And for a moment, his cheeks darkened with pride and perhaps love, but it was soon gone, replaced by the placid smile that he hid so often behind.

--

It was strange for Yufitri, sleeping alone in the bed, without the familiar warmth of the cat beside him. A fleeting urge seized him, and he was tempted to rush from his chamber up into the eastern tower and into that room of reds and violets where Calixtus lay asleep, and join him, but the urge was quelled and he fell into restless sleep until morning.

--

As the weeks went on, Calixtus continued to ponder what to say to his father, asking Yufitri for counsel from time to time. Neither of them spoke about his quest. Yufitri had given up, but he could tell that Calixtus had not let it go. On the contrary, he was starting to suspect the silence was a cover for scheming.

A few times too many, Yufitri found himself 'accidentally' running into Luisa. She was very pleasant to be around, and quite pretty, but if Calixtus was hoping to spark something between the two of them, it simply wasn't to be.

It hurt, deep in Yufitri's chest, to think about Calixtus trying to make him fall in love with someone else. Truly, it was becoming more and more difficult to ignore the fact that he was likely already in love with Calixtus himself.

He thought about how warm and content he felt in his presence, how much he longed to run his hands through that pale, pale hair, and kiss the tip of that long, straight nose, that mole under his eye, those pink lips.

Clenching his fists in impotent frustration, Yufitri bid Luisa another goodbye and returned to the guest room, falling onto the bed with a heavy sigh. Now the question remained, what did he want to do?

He sat up. He was a prince and a warrior. Princes and warriors did not cower in fear of rejection; they went after what they wanted, consequences be damned.

The hallways were empty. Moonlight fell in stripes across the blue-black floors, and every suit of armor menaced from the shadows. Quelling the urge to return to his room, Yufitri pressed onward until he reached the eastern tower. The door opened at his touch, creaking in the heavy silence. He clicked it shut as quietly as he could and ascended the stairs.

His heart squeezed tightly as he passed through the spell room, flashes of blood, bone, and white fur assaulting him, but he climbed the final staircase.

Calixtus was sitting up in bed, posture alert as his eyes gleamed, cat-like, from an opening in the canopy. He visibly relaxed as he recognized Yufitri.

"What brings you here so late, king's son?" he asked, pulling the canopy further aside. A whispered word and the sconces on the wall flickered to life, casting a warm orange glow.

"I have something I must tell you."

"And it could not wait for daylight?"

"No." He rubbed his arm. "I was afraid I'd lose my nerve."

He worked himself out from under the covers, the white fabric of his shift making no sound as it moved over the heavy wool. He sat on the end of the bed, expectant. "Then speak."

Yufitri drew in a shuddering breath, too aware of how it rattled hollowly in his chest. "Prince Calixtus. I… What I mean to say is… you are…" He felt like he was about to swoon. He clamped it down, rooting his feet, digging his nails into the skin of his arm, and pulled himself back. "You are the most beautiful person I have ever known, both within and without. I find myself captivated by you more and more with each passing day, and I want nothing more than for you to know my feelings... And for you to stop throwing poor Luisa at me. She is a lovely woman, but no one is lovelier than you." He stared at the floor, watching his shadow flicker in the firelight, waiting for a response.

Calixtus's shadow shifted and moved, drifting forward until the two touched, and Yufitri looked up. There were tears shimmering in those spring green eyes. "You have much to lose in loving me," he whispered.

"None of it matters if it means I get you in return."

Cool hands touched his overheated face, drawing him up into a kiss. Deepening the kiss, Yufitri tried to lift him into his arms, but they ended up tangled together, unsure of whose hands were where, until, laughing, they fell onto the bed. They broke apart, sighing into each other's mouths. Yufitri ran his fingers through Calixtus's hair, marveling at the softness of it, heat pooling near his hips at the soft gasp that action inspired. He did it again, a bit rougher, pushing his nails across the scalp. Calixtus shuddered against him, pulling their hips together with his legs. Heat built between them, Yufitri moving his lips across Calixtus's jaw, moving down his neck, sucking at his pulse. Sharp fingernails pressed into his shoulders as Calixtus held him tighter, pulling at his shift.

At a gasped command, the lights went out and Calixtus gently pushed Yufitri back. "One moment." He pulled the curtain fully closed, and tugged Yufitri back against his chest until they were lying on the pile of pillows near the headboard. "I wouldn't want you to catch a chill," he said softly, sliding his hands up underneath Yufitri's shift, nails sliding tantalizingly across taut skin.

"No, that would be terrible," Yufitri agreed, nosing back into the junction of ear and neck, hands braced on either side of Calixtus's chest. "It's getting so pleasantly warm in here. It would be a real shame to ruin it."

That night, Yufitri learned the miracle that was making love, the magic of watching Calixtus lose completely his stoic armor and careful words, dissolve entirely into low moans and sharp gasps as his nails painted stripes across Yufitri's back. As Yufitri fell asleep, he found himself wishing they would scar so he could keep them forever.

--

Morning came. Yufitri woke to the sound of birdsong, and was surprised and pleased to find Calixtus lying half on top of him, breathing gently against his chest. He ran his fingers through that soft white hair, scratching lightly. Calixtus sighed happily and cuddled closer, leaning up to bump Yufitri's chin with his head. Just like a cat. Yufitri chuckled.

Too soon, there came the sound of movement beyond the bed curtains, the shuffling of someone opening trunks and bureaus to lay out clothes and the clink of dishes to serve breakfast. "It's morning, my lord," Luisa called.

Calixtus stirred, breathing in deeply before yawning and opening his eyes. For a moment, he appeared confused, but perhaps as memories from the night before returned to him, he smiled and sat up, looking down at Yufitri. "Thank you, Luisa," he said. "I shall dress myself today."

"Very well. The clothes are in the usual place when you're ready. Shall I go wake the prince?"

Yufitri stifled a laugh. Calixtus put a finger to his lips, eyes twinkling with mischief. "No need. I'll take care of it."

A pause. "Yes, sir. Have a pleasant morning." Footsteps, the shutting of the door.

The two princes looked at each other and burst out laughing. "So," Calixtus said, rolling over so that he was fully on top of Yufitri. "Are you awake?"

"Hmmm, I don't know. Usually I'm not really awake until I've had a bit of exercise."

"Well then, what kind of host would I be if I did not oblige?"

--

By the time they got out of bed, breakfast had long gone cold. Despite this, they ate ravenously. With a contented sigh, Yufitri started getting dressed again, picking his clothes up off the floor, somewhat bemused as to how they ended up so far away.

From his perch atop his clothing chest, Calixtus looked suddenly grave.

"What's wrong?" Yufitri wondered if it was his fault somehow. Had last night not been as enjoyable for Calixtus? Was the before breakfast, er, exercise too much? … Was he about to be rejected?

"What are we doing?"

Yufitri tried to keep his voice light, but the fear of never having such a pleasant evening and morning again loomed in his thoughts. "Well, at the moment, we're getting dressed. Though I wasn't wearing much beyond a shift to begin with."

"You know I don't mean that."

With a long sigh, Yufitri went and joined him on the chest, putting an arm around his shoulders. "We're being happy."

"But what about your family? Are you just going to allow them to believe you dead or worse?"

"No, I suppose not." Yufitri tightened his hold. "Guess I just have to bring you home and show you off."

Calixtus froze in the hug, looking at him with wide eyes. "What?"

"Did you really think I would abandon you? What kind of man do you take me for?"

Calixtus shook his head, a smile on his lips. "I have no idea." They kissed, then kissed a little more, before breaking apart to finish dressing and emerge from the bedroom into the afternoon sunlight.

--

As the time to return south approached, Calixtus took Yufitri by the hand and took him to the spell room. "I finally figured out how to break the spell that keeps me bound to these wretched woods," he said, looking smug. "I want you to watch me shatter it to pieces."

"I would be happy to."

Most of the ingredients had already been laid out on key parts of the circle, at line junctures or within the shapes they formed. Calixtus sat down cross-legged at the center and began to chant. As the ingredients began to glow and become absorbed into the spell, Yufitri saw a light beginning to appear around Calixtus's neck. It glowed brighter and brighter until it was clear it was a collar, shining like moonlight.

Hands trembling with excitement, he reached up and clasped it tightly. Then he pulled. It did in fact shatter, the bits of light vanishing as they hit the floor.

The spell ingredients had disappeared completely, leaving only cloying smoke. Calixtus sat very still, breathing slowly in and out, hands, white-knuckled, pressed to the floor in front of him. "I…" His voice was small and shallow, suddenly very young. "I'm free."

Yufitri knelt beside him, gathering him into his arms. After a few minutes, when Calixtus's breathing returned to normal, he grinned. "So we leave at dawn?"

Calixtus grinned back. "Yes. We leave at dawn."

--

After breakfast the next day, the servants made sure they were packed and ready, and promised to look after the castle while their prince was away. Calixtus assured them he would return in a few months, and then the two of them made their way through the forest and into the village at the edge. The people recognized Yufitri by now, a few merchants even greeted him, but they eyed his companion with mistrust and fear.

Calixtus seemed to grow smaller at Yufitri's side. "They think me cursed, or a demon," he said quietly.

"Why?"

"My hair and skin, I would imagine."

Yufitri frowned. "Is your coloring so uncommon?"

"It is," he assured him.

By noon, Calixtus's forehead and nose were violent pink and hot to the touch. Yufitri acquired some ointment like the red-faced man's so long ago, and rubbed it into the burned skin gently.

"I have an idea," Yufitri said. "Wait here, and put more on when you want to, okay?"

He nodded and stayed where they were sitting outside another small town. Yufitri went to the marketplace and returned with a long piece of cloth. It took him a few tries to successfully imitate the nomads' head wrapping, and he was pretty sure he was doing it wrong, but it didn't matter. He pinned the cloth into place.

Now, instead of his skin and hair drawing attention and unwanted sunburn, Calixtus looked like a foreign traveler, just like Yufitri. His eyes crinkled in a smile, then a wince as the tightness and soreness of the skin made itself known again.

"Thank you," he said, voice muffled through the cloth.

"Whatever you need." He pecked his lips to the slip of forehead he could see. "You ready to go?"

"Yes, I'm coming."

--

Calixtus was horribly ill the first few days at sea. His skin took on a gray pallor, and he spent hours gripping the railing of the boat, pouring the contents of his empty stomach into the water. However, after those first awful days, his nausea faded, and he was able to enjoy the wind in his hair and the view of the distant shore.

Calixtus kept his head wrapped as they approached the port. Yufitri thought saw one of his brothers on the dock, and waved, but they were still too far out. Calixtus looked thoughtful as they drifted closer. "Say, Prince Yufitri… Am I beautiful?"

"Fishing for compliments?" Yufitri smiled.

He smiled back, his eyes crinkling. "Yes, but also for a bit of a… mischievous purpose."

"Oh? Well, yes, you are stunningly beautiful. What's the mischief?"

"Well, your brothers are expecting a bride."

"Yes…"

"So, why do we need to tell them that I'm not one? At least not right away. After all, they can't see my face, and I can keep quiet."

Yufitri stifled a laugh into his hand. "Do you really want to?"

"I want to see if I can fool them." His eyes twinkled.

"All right. I'll play the game with you. Though they know enough of your tongue to know your name is masculine."

"You can call me Calliste then. That should be neutral enough to throw them off."

Yufitri laughed. This was going to be fun.

--

As they exited the boat and paid the merchant, Calixtus acted no different from his usual self. Yufitri had half expected him to play up the role a bit, but maybe that would've made the jest too obvious. Amestan alone met him on the dock, embracing him. "Yufitri, I am glad to see you home and well. And I can't wait to meet your bride!"

Yufitri grinned and gestured towards Calixtus, who nodded his head.

"Um, brother, did you travel across the sea to find a well-dressed nomad?"

"The cowl is to protect her delicate skin. I told you of the northern people. They have skin that is milk white and that turns violent red in the sun. We couldn't have that, could we, my dear?" He winked.

Calixtus gave him a blank stare, as if he didn't understand. Yufitri had to bite back a shriek of laughter.

He turned back to Amestan. "Sorry. I learned her tongue, but she still knows little of ours." He slowed his speech, fully aware that Calixtus had understood perfectly well. "The cloth protects the skin on your face, yes?"

Smiling as if he suddenly comprehended, Calixtus nodded.

"Well, she seems very sweet," Amestan said approvingly. "Though you haven't met mine! You may have won the last two competitions, dear brother, but you shall not carry this day."

Yufitri shrugged. "I certainly hope not. I've no desire for the crown."

Amestan frowned. "Then why participate?"

"The chance to adventure, of course!" He grinned. "I have no regrets." He looked back at Calixtus, who gave him a genuine smile.  

"Well, then, shall we return to the castle and wait for our brother?"

"Of course." He held out his hand to Calixtus, who took it happily, walking close alongside Yufitri as they made their way through the busy marketplace. The smell of spices and fish and incense made Yufitri feel comfortable and at home, and he was sad that it would likely be a long time after this visit that he would be able to return.

Standing in the courtyard when they returned, was a woman wrapped in beautiful red fabric—a long tunic over loose pants, as well as a veil over her dark hair. Her clothing was patterned with delicate gold needlework, and gold jewelry glittered on her ears and, most intriguingly, on the side of her nose.

She smiled as they entered the courtyard, and Yufitri felt Calixtus's grip tighten on his hand. "She's very pretty," he said quietly, whispering into the cloth wrapped around Calixtus's head. "But you are more beautiful still."

Calixtus chuckled, and said in his native tongue, "Keep flattering me and I'll stop believing you."

"Oh no," he said back, smirking. "Then you're absolutely hideous. I can't even look at you right now."

Calixtus bit back a laugh. Amestan looked over his shoulder at them, smiling, before going over to his bride. His arms around her were gentle and kind, and Yufitri got the feeling that she would be good for him, no matter what happened.

Then, with great excitement, Badis arrived. At his side was an absolutely stunning woman.

She looked as if someone had taken a blade to the night sky and cut her out of it, placing stars in her eyes. She was tall and long-limbed, and absolutely gorgeous. Her dress was yellow and orange, and her curly black hair was wrapped in cloth of the same color, piled on top of her head like the crest of a waterfall.

Yufitri could see why Badis had heaped such praise on her. But Calixtus's hand was cool in his own, and he found no envy in his heart.

After greetings and compliments, the three brothers and their brides entered the castle, where their father stood in wait. He embraced his sons, and greeted the women (plus Calixtus). "Why do you cover your face in the presence of a king?" he rumbled in displeasure.

Calixtus gave his best blank stare as Yufitri was quick to intervene. "Shyness, Father. You'll see her face at dinner, I promise."

He nodded, grumbling to himself. "Then let dinner be served!"

Yufitri and Calixtus shared a mischievous grin.

--

The entire group gathered around the table, smiles and compliments were given to the king as the centerpiece, a great pot of stewed lamb, was placed on the table, still steaming hot. Winking at Yufitri, Calixtus reached up and slowly unwrapped his head, folded the cloth neatly and placed it beside him on the bench. "Thank you so much for your hospitality, Your Majesty," he said, his speech accented but very clear. "This meal looks spectacular."

The king and the two brothers looked from Calixtus, to Yufitri, to one another, and then back to Calixtus.

"Um, Yufitri," Amestan said. "Do you know…?"

Yufitri roared with laughter. "Do you really think so little of me, my dear brother? This is the man who helped me win the last two competitions. He is a fine enchanter."

Calixtus's smile dimmed at the corners. Yufitri took his hand, squeezing tightly. "And he will make a fine bride."

That got a laugh, but only from his beloved. His family looked concerned.

"But, Yufitri, don't you want to be king? You need a bride who can bear your children."

"Then I won't be king. I didn't come here expecting to win, I came here to introduce my beloved to my family." He brought Calixtus's hand to his lips. "You all know I would make for a poor king, anyway."

"Then, are you removing yourself from the competition?" the king asked.

"Yes, Father."

The two other brides sat up expectantly. The night woman was certainly the more eye-catching of the two, despite the other's finery.

The king asked them both many questions, and Badis's bride proved to act just as impressive as she looked.

So, in the end, despite the entire charade, the eldest son won the throne on a technicality. Amestan did his best not to sulk during the celebratory party.

After pleasantries and congratulations had been exchanged, Amestan pulled Yufitri aside, out onto the balcony. "Brother, I worry for you."

"Why?" Yufitri asked, leaning against the stone railing. The air was dry and warm, and he was surprised how much it made him feel at home.

"It's just… You said he is a sorcerer. How do you know you're not… cursed to love him?"

Yufitri chuckled. "I appreciate your worry, but he showed me enough of magic to know that's not the case. The magic he does is tricky; I doubt he could spell me without my knowing."

"That does not inspire confidence, brother."

"Then just trust in me. I never wanted to be king. Besides…" He grinned.  "I think being a queen will be much more fun."

"What?!" Oh, the worry on his dear brother's face! Yufitri almost giggled like a child.

"He's an heir in his own right," Yufitri explained. "Hence, I shall be his queen." He couldn't help a wink.

Amestan's expression soured. "More like his concubine. Kings need heirs of their own, Yufitri."

"Then I'll be the second wife he loves much better than the duty wife." But the thought settled cold and wet in the pit of his stomach. "We haven't discussed that yet, to be honest."

"Sounds to me like that should happen soon."

"It will. Please don't concern yourself on my account. I'm happier than I've ever been."

And Amestan sighed and smiled. "Well, it's not my place to argue your feelings. I wish you all the happiness in the world."

"And I you."

The two brothers embraced, the stars and desert their only audience.

"Come, then," Yufitri said after a time. "We should return to the celebration."

Calixtus gave him a questioning look as he came back inside, so he bid Amestan goodbye and went to join him. He bumped his lips against his cheek in greeting. "Miss me?"

Calixtus let himself smile at that before sobering. "What were you talking about?"

"He was worried about me, as brothers do."

"Worried about what?" His expression grew dark.

"My happiness. Don't fret, I would never let him interfere with what we have between us."

Calixtus sighed and switched to his native tongue, speaking quickly and quietly. "I'm just… scared that someone here is going to talk sense into you and convince you to stay and settle down with some sweet girl instead and make me return to face my father alone, and I just…" He dropped his head into Yufitri's shoulder. "And I know it's horribly hypocritical, because I was trying to foist Luisa onto you, but that was before, and now I can't even imagine anyone else touching you without half-planning spells that would involve their eyes turning to acid."

Yufitri laughed and hugged him close. "There's no need to melt anyone's eyes, dear. We'll go back north in a month or two. For now, let me show you the beauty of my homeland." He chuckled. "Hopefully without you turning a strange, yet attractive shade of scarlet."

Calixtus snorted. "We'll travel by night. The moon is safe."

"I don't know. You haven't seen a full moonrise over the desert." His kissed Calixtus's nose. "Well, not yet, anyway. Give it a week or so, then you will."

-- They did. The sight of Calixtus silhouetted against the great moon, his cape fluttering out from his shoulders like a pair of predator's wings, was one he would not soon forget.

--

A few days after the celebration, as Yufitri and Calixtus were getting ready for bed, Yufitri's father sent for him. Calixtus looked worried, but Yufitri kissed him before he could raise a concern again. "My father can say whatever he likes," he said. "I am coming home with you."

Yufitri met his father in his sitting room. Divested of his kingly regalia, he just looked like an old man.

"Yufitri," he said slowly. "What are you doing?"

"With what, Father?"

"With a man, son. Do you not love women?" The king pulled unhappily at his beard, not quite meeting his son's eyes.

Yufitri sighed, coming forward to kneel next to his father's knee, as he'd done so many times as a child. "You did nothing wrong in raising me, Father. I enjoy the company of women, but I love Prince Calixtus. He is good and kind and—"

"And going to take you away from me." It was then that Yufitri saw the real reason his father was upset, and all of the righteous fury he had built up on the walk over died away. His father hadn't expected to have to say goodbye.

"It isn't forever," Yufitri said. "I will visit from time to time. I'll have to see all the nieces and nephews that will no doubt be filling the castle soon, won't I?"

The king pulled him up in a tight embrace. "I know you are a stubborn child. Any argument I could make would fall on deaf ears, and I saw that Amestan already talked to you at the party. So, as your father, all I can ask is that you be well and never forget that this land is your home. And always will be, no matter what."

Yufitri smiled, returning the embrace as tightly as he could. "Thank you, Father."

The king wiped at the tears gathering in the wrinkles under his eyes. "Since I only have sons, I never thought would be giving away a bride."

"A bearded bride no less!" Yufitri added.

The king laughed and ruffled his hair. "You call that fuzz a beard, boy? You've got a ways to go before you catch up to your old man!"

They ended up talking for a while longer, before the king retired for the night, and Yufitri returned to his room, only to find an anxious Calixtus waiting for him.

He kissed the furrows between his brows. "We have my father's blessing," he said. "Now do you believe that I won't leave you?"

Calixtus made a show of tapping his chin in thought. "I don't know," he said slyly. "Words are so cheap, after all."

"Then clearly we need some actions." Yufitri gave him a wolfish grin, putting the last of his clothes aside. "Come here. Let me show you how attached I've become."

--

After a month's time, Yufitri bid his family goodbye for the last time in what would be a very long time. His brothers and father wished him all the best and saw them off, this time in a royal vessel of his very own.

Yufitri waved from the stern until they were completely out of sight.

"So!" He turned to Calixtus. "Are we going back to your castle, or are we headed for the capital?"

Calixtus, head wrapped once more, now in a proper cover of white linen, sighed thoughtfully. "Truthfully, I would like to go back to that castle, as much as it was a prison, at least it was a familiar one. And so, it is imperative that we go to the capital, so that I cannot later trick myself into not going at all."

"A wise decision."

"I hope so." He rubbed his arm. "I find myself afraid."

Yufitri rested his head against Calixtus's neck, his hands around his waist. "Of?"

"What if the fairies deceived me? What if there was no deal made? What if my parents simply abandoned me to the woods, and the fairies found me?

"I always told myself they had no reason to lie, but what if they did? What if a child who's told his parents left him to die isn't good enough for their needs? Or maybe they had no reason to lie, but by the same token, they had no reason not to?

"What if I'm not royalty at all?"

Yufitri squeezed him tightly. "Even if it was all a lie, what we have here and now is not. No matter what happens, I will stay with you."

"Even if—"

"No matter what! I think we've established that you can't scrape me off that easily."

Calixtus sighed, relaxing into Yufitri's arms, and chuckled. "I hope not. What would I do without my lovely barnacle?"

--

The capital was a whirl of sounds and people. As his head and face were still shielded from the sun, Calixtus allowed Yufitri to do most of the talking. His accent was noticeable, but it served to make him interesting and exotic rather than a target for thieves.

Calixtus liked the way his mother language rolled off of Yufitri's tongue, the auditory equivalent of adding foreign spices to a familiar dish, changing it just enough to be new and wonderful. They followed strangers' instructions to the castle entrance, the dark stone edifice looming over them like a great beast with a gaping maw.

The two entered, their hands clasped together for mutual support.

The guards on duty stopped their advance. "What brings you here, strangers? You are not from this land."

"Actually, I am." Calixtus removed his head covering, revealing his pale skin like that of the guards. "We're here to see the king."

The guards exchanged glances.

"There's been no king here for many years, stranger."

Calixtus frowned, his face turning ashen. "Then who rules this country now?"

"His widow. There was a rumor long ago that a son was born, but he disappeared. Died, I figure."

"We are here about that son," Calixtus pressed, his nails digging sharply into Yufitri's hand.

The guard raised an eyebrow. "The one I just told you about?"

"Look, just tell the queen what I look like and explain that it's about the son who was spirited away from her."

The guard looked to his companion, who shrugged, and then entered the throne room, the door shutting behind him.

Yufitri could feel how strongly Calixtus was trembling and had a fleeting urge to remove him from this nerve-wracking situation, wrap him up in a warm blanket, and give him gentle kisses until the shaking stopped. But he knew that Calixtus had to do this, and so allowed him to use him as a lifeline, despite the bruises he knew his hand would have soon.

The guard returned. "The queen will see you now."

Calixtus didn't move, his gaze fixed on the open door in front of him. Yufitri let go of his hand, and grabbed his shoulders from behind, pushing him forward into the room. "It'll be fine," he murmured in his ear. "Calm down. It'll be fine."

The queen was an old woman, though she perhaps wasn't quite as old as she looked. The years and sorrows she had suffered had scoured their way across her face, and weighed heavily on her stooped shoulders. And yet, when she looked up, for a single moment, she looked young again.

She stood, leaning on an ornate cane, watching Calixtus and Yufitri enter. The front guardsman closed the door behind them with a thud that echoed through the chamber.

On unsteady feet, the queen hobbled to meet them halfway, and brought her hand up to touch Calixtus's face. She ran her fingers across his cheekbones, around his chin. "These are my husband's," she said in a small voice. She touched his nose, his lips. "These are my sister's." Across his brow, his eyelids. "And these are mine."

And indeed they were. Straight, narrow brows, and deep-set eyes.

"And you have the mark of my son's affliction." She ran her fingers through his pale white hair, so like her own, despite his youth. Choking back a sob, she threw her arms around her son, holding as tightly as her frail body could. He grasped her back just as tightly.

Yufitri look a few steps back, giving the two some space, and smiled to himself. After a little while, the queen pulled away, dabbing at her tears with a handkerchief. "Who is your companion, Calixtus?" she asked, looking toward Yufitri.

Calixtus introduced him. "Without this man, I would not be standing here right now," he said, touching Yufitri's arm.

The queen tipped her head forward. "This kingdom thanks you, Prince Yufitri. And I, as a mother, thank you."

He bowed in return. "It was nothing."

"No," she said sincerely. "It was everything."

--

Calixtus and his mother went to talk politics with her advisors, leaving Yufitri to his own devices for a few hours. He wandered the city, meeting people. He even met a fellow countryman and his wife, and they ended up talking for quite some time. The man advised Yufitri on what dishes to avoid, some of the holidays celebrated in this land, and what some of the stranger customs were. Some he already knew, but others surprised him.

As the sun began to set, Yufitri bid his new friends goodbye and returned to the castle. Calixtus was waiting in the entrance hall. "Did you get lost?" he asked.

"No, I met some of my kin, and the time got away from me. How did it go?"

Calixtus sighed and waved him over so they could walk to the guest chambers. "There's a lot to be done. I've never had formal training in politics or proper decorum, so that's the first thing the advisors want before I'm coronated. In addition, they want to use my reappearance as fuel for a marriage alliance."

Yufitri's heart stuttered. "What did you say to that?"

"That I'd have to think about it. In reality, of course, we need to discuss that."

"Of course." The atmosphere grew heavy around them, and Yufitri had to focus to keep his feet moving in the right direction. "Is that what we're going to discuss tonight?"

"I think we have to." Calixtus didn't sound excited by the prospect.

They arrived. The rooms were small, with a fireplace in each, as well as thick bed curtains and blankets. Calixtus undressed, hanging up his clothes, and crawled into one of the beds. Yufitri joined him, curling up against his back.

"So," he said after a moment.

"So," Calixtus agreed. He took the hand resting on his arm, twining the fingers together. "I'm going to need an heir."

Yufitri sighed into the back of his neck. "I know... I don't suppose you have a sex change spell up your sleeve?"

Calixtus gave a small laugh. "No, that would require a fairy."

"Damn." He paused. "I would carry your child, though, if you needed me to."

Calixtus voice softened, and he rolled over so they were face-to-face. "As convenient as that would be, I would miss you as you are now." He smiled and skritched Yufitri's beard, enjoying the rough softness of it.

Yufitri smiled at the touch, and he grabbed Calixtus's hand so he could kiss the palm. Then he sobered. "So what do you want to do, really?"

He shrugged, his expression morose. "In a perfect world, nothing. But this country's position has been precarious since my father's death, so a marriage alliance would be a very good opportunity to begin to repair that."

"What kind of woman would you want?"

He sighed, bumping his forehead into Yufitri's. "You."

"Come on, be serious."

"A woman who can conceive quickly and easily so I won't have to sleep with her again."

Yufitri smiled, kissing the tip of his nose. "I'm sure you'll be able to find a bride who's as disinterested in you as you are in her."

He laughed, and the tight lines of worry faded from his face. "One can hope," he said warmly. "But let's be finished with this conversation now."

Yufitri hummed his assent, and buried his face in Calixtus's hair. "I will get jealous," he said quietly. "But I will love you no matter what."

"I will too."

--

The castle in the woods became Yufitri's domain, and Calixtus's refuge. When life in the capital became hectic or unhappy, he would return to the woods and Yufitri's arms.

His wife, an older princess from a nearby kingdom, was given a small manse of her own after their son, Leon, was born and grown to young adulthood. Calixtus made sure that she wanted for nothing, and was free to do as she wished. The rumor was that she had two lovers of her own, but her story was not this one.

Prince Leon enjoyed the woods and his Uncle Yufitri's company. Yufitri taught him of swordplay and of wrestling, of camping, and of hunting. They spent many summers together, exploring the forest, and finding bits of fairy magic left behind. And when they would return, muddy and exhilarated, Calixtus would laugh and usher them into the washroom, where he would listen to the full account of their adventures as the spell hands wiped them clean.

As a king, Calixtus was dedicated and conscientious. Despite his off-putting appearance, he soon won the people's trust and faith. Although whispers about his romantic life followed him his entire reign, he never let them distract from his work, and history would remember him fondly long after his death.

So, I suppose it could be said that Yufitri and Calixtus, and their various loved ones, all lived happily ever after.

[noctischaplain]

The 144th’s Embark: Board Action

They came so quick. The derelict ship’s spirit could have warned them, not with the sections of it already occupied and still wared in the days since the first encounter. They could have known invaders would come, sitting out here vulnerable in the void. Executioner Tuili was honestly, disappointed.

As his execution-sword swung with the crackling sheath of its power-edge, cleaving two of the black-armoured stormtroopers in bits by a casual flick before burning the rest into crackling meat and piles of pressure-blasted cinders with his combi-flamer, the Atramentar veteran expected a better defense from the thralls of this forsaken Imperium. The genestealers weren’t an enemy to handle in squandered quarters. They delivered a fierce cunning and unexpected affinity in killing even astartes, as annoying as it were.

At his flank, the others were slicing and crushing their prey with lightning-claws and thunder hammer. The armsmen preserved their ammunition by Tuili’s order. They required it in this mission, nothing can go wrong or the wrath of the Chaplain will be true.

The Terminators of the 144th were all veterans, as expected of legiones astartes formation and law, from Tuili - once one of the Primarch’s own personal guard and killers - to young Sebastian, who claimed the honour of his war-plate by the death of Hudilf in honourable combat after suffering the Warp’s mutations. Vigorous cleansing by Helbane and the Nostraman techpriests restored the ancient armour to use, at least it wasn’t corrupted to the spirit within. By Tuili’s command, they were the Spectral Sabertooth in honour of the cannibalistic saber-tooths that once hunted from the black-iceland of Nostramo’s far northern artics. They were the hunters of the selfish, warped, and forsaken. The purification of Curze’s poisoned legion and by their Executioner’s aim, they ensured the Chaplain’s success.

Lumbering through the claustophic halls, the Spectres killed everything in their way. The Inquisitors were no friends of the 144th, they were nothing but over-bloated weapons of a deluded house to the Nostramen and by Curze’s law, they were more than happy to end one of bothersome numbers. A complete cleanse. By the time that the Executioner sawed through one of the cruiser’s bulkheads after a disagreement to the Machine Spirit in keeping them from entering, a Tyranid took the opportunity to jump from the shadows when their backs were temporarily turned.

The reptilian xeno, a genestealer, shrieked and was fully intend to claw its talons into ancient Terminator plating for the body underneath. However, this isn’t the first time that the Night Lords met with the aliens beyond this space. Ru’man spun around while puncturing through shoulder bone and bicep muscle with two of his lightning claws’ digits, exposing the squealing thing to his immediate brother’s power fist. Like an oversized bug, Sebastian crushed it into the crackled fist and hurled it into another genestealer squirming from a tight vent. “Disgusting…” His tusked helm growl, slamming his combi-flamer’s muzzle into the plugged entrance before blasting. The screaming of the caught creature music to the Terminator-operator’s ears and the stench of it untouched by the optimized filters.

The squad acted close-knit and coordination was key in these missions, the genestealers were cunning and to sacrifice their numbers weren’t as mindless as their more swarmling kin. It was a test...and Tuili was intending of passing. “Keep in colonial march. The xeno-scum know of our presence.” He spoke in the privacy of vox-trading, his snarling helmet crackling electricity between its scimitar-fangs. When acknowledgment confirmed to full understanding, they entered to meet a garrison aiming lasguns behind makeshift barricade.

Much better.

In the violent distraction, a dreadclaw speared its way into the vessel’s flesh and drilled like a syringe to find a vein. One that will lead to the heart, soon finding such an artery via the undercroft for serfs and slaves to react accordingly to immediate evac.   An artery infested of crawling beasts, their surprise filling the passage of shrieks and spats of animalistic hate. Something the dreadclaw’s spirit wanted silent. Now.

The battering music of hurling frag grenades peppered either side of its infiltrated tunnel, tearing xenos apart and away from its vicious appearance. Gore and charred bits flinging until nothing currently were caught in its heaving sensors. The offense of xeno-infestation no longer immediate, opening its jaws to allow a full capacity to spill to the killing-field.

Figures clad in midnight black, the grisly trophies of many battles in their existence from screaming skulls to flayed flesh made to tethers and grimly-etched litanies in blessing of Nostramo script. The crackling link of electricity dancing between their artificer gear, bolters, and personal weapons from chain to power blades. Preysight flashing to enjoy the smothering piles of dead, weapons primed and making defensive positions like a predatory pride. Their champion snarled through his vox-grilles, the studded helm splaying its red wings out from scalp to back. Striking Scorpion Exarch’s biting blade in clawed hand with rags of eldar-flesh and soulstones from its hilt and pommel, armour appearing like a flayed man’s muscles lining with studs and hooks to hold a void-violet war-cape. Leather tassels hanging of nostramo-gang fetishes in honour of the chapter he was apart of being joining the 144th.

Nicolae moved, shoulders never relaxing and senses honed for the slightest chance to kill something worth of his blade.

Their Chaplain pried through his retinue, fully in the grace of his wargear. From the arching wings of his personal iron halo to the crackling hate of his skeletal crozius and lightning claws to the skeleton of the Fallen Wolf wrapped at his chest, gorget and sides with the scribed chains of the Emperor’s Justice keeping the blood-baptized relic to his plating. Weeping of gilt tears from the Chaplain’s torture in the Everblack Chambers, the Chaos-twisted Space Wolf howled every sin that he committed against the legions and his soul forever trapped in his Rubric-dusted bones to suffer and serve his interrogator to find some relief of guilt. Such a thing to feed into the dark spirit that housed Helbane’s armour to sate its hunger of bloodlust, the price of being the equipment of a Night Lord of any kind.

His xeno death-mask rattled through the vox, sending an echo through the tunnel before leading the way to the Inquisitor’s inner works.

[sallsmum]

Center Stage

This is my first Malec week submission. I can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with. Hope you like this.

Magnus had been in a frenzy all week. He was planning a birthday party for Alec and he wanted everything perfect.

He’d been trying to do most of the work while Alec was at the Institute so he couldn’t complain about him over doing things.

“Just don’t go over- board, please? You know I’m not that sort of person. That’s your department.” He had said to him one night a few weeks before hand when they had been snuggled up on the sofa together in the loft when Magnus had told him what he wanted to do.

“I know, my love, but I just think it would be a great opportunity to get all our friends and your parents and Max together. We haven’t had a party since Max’s ruin ceremony.”

“Yeah, and look what happened then. Just promise me you’ll keep a lid on it. It will be the first time that Mum and Dad will be here since they divorced. Dad mentioned the last time I spoke to him that he was seeing someone so that should be interesting.” Alec raised his eye brows. Magnus gave his hand a comforting pat.

“I’m sure it will be fine. It’s been two years since then and I’m sure they have both moved on from any hostilities.”

“Yeah, I’m not holding my breath on that one.”

 It was now the day before the party and Magnus was in a whirlwind of activity in the loft. He had done the decorating himself, basing the theme on their last trip away together in Morocco. Rich, deep jewelled colours of dark red, peacock blue, emerald green, dark pink and a rich gold filled the living area in beautiful glass mosaic lamps and candle holders. He had tented the roof from the centre of the ceiling in heavy silk material in the chosen colours, a magnificent coloured glass chandelier the centrepiece.

Magnus had replaced the sofas with piles of large floor cushions and richly upholstered chairs. He had organised caterers to prepare a buffet of traditional food with a few planner dishes as well. He had to laugh a little when Izzy had offered to help with the cooking.

She and Simon had been together for just over a year now and they had moved in together about six months ago but from the amount of times they had ended up at the loft for dinner with he and Alec, Magnus was sure her cooking skills still left a lot to be desired.

The caterers arrived to start bringing in their equipment and unpacking the crockery, glass ware and cutlery. Magnus smiled when he saw Clary sneaking in behind them. She stood in the room, hands on her hips, looking around.

“Well Magnus, I have to say, I think you’ve out done yourself this time. It looks absolutely beautiful.” She said, smiling at him.

“Thank you, Biscuit, I’m glad you think so. I just hope Alexander feels the same. He did warn me about over doing things.”

“I’m sure he’ll love it. Especially when he gets his “special” present. It will all be worth it.”  Clary gave him a wink.

Magnus had let her in on the special gift he had prepared for Alec. He had gotten it a month ago and he had needed to trust someone with it so he hadn’t been tempted to give it to him early or run the risk of Alec finding it.

Clary was the only person he had entrusted with it. He had thought about giving it to Caterina but she was so busy with Madsi now be didn’t want her to forget to bring it with her to the party.

“You haven’t told that big mouth boyfriend of yours, have you? I know what Jace is like. He can’t keep anything to himself for long.” Magnus asked, giving her a worried look.

“No, I haven’t and it’s not from his lack of trying to get it out of me either. He’s done everything but hold a seraph blade to my throat and he knows that I’d probably beat him with that as well. You’re secret’s safe with me, Magnus. I can’t wait.”

Alec had arrived home just as the last of the caterers had left for the evening. He walked in the door and just shook his head. Magnus obviously had no clue what ‘keeping it simple” meant. But he had to admit, it did look fantastic.

Magnus came up to him and handed him one of his special cocktails.

“Welcome home, my love. Hard day at the office?” He took a sip from his own glass, his eyes never moving from Alec’s face.

“I thought we agreed to tone it down, Magnus? You call this simple?”

“well, yes, actually. It could have been worse, I could have moved the loft to Morocco for the night. This was much easier. I heard from your parents earlier. They arrived here safely from Idris and are very comfortable at the apartments I organised for them.”

“I hope they’re on separate floors.”

“Oh don’t be like that, they were fine with the arrangements and they said to tell you they would see you tomorrow night.”

“Did Max come as well?”

“Yes, he’s staying with your mother. Maryse did happen to mention he is currently going through his angsty teenager phase so we should be prepared for that.” Alec gave a small laugh. It was hard for him to realise that his little brother was growing up. It only seemed liked yesterday when his mother was accusing him of being the same way. Only he knew it was for a different reason than Max’s would be.

 The next day went quickly and Alec had Clary and Izzy pushing him out the door early so he could go home and get ready for his party. He had already had a small celebration with some of the other Shadowhunters at lunch time in the Institute’s dining room. Izzy had proudly brought out a rather lop sided, frosting smothered cake that she had made for him and the members that had been there all sang happy birthday to him.

He had arrived at the loft to find magnus running around attending to all the last-minute details and he had shooed him into the shower the second he had hit the door. He was already looking wonderful in his signature silk shirt, embroidered waist coat and black slim fitting pants. His makeup done perfectly as always.

Alec found a brand-new suit and shirt waiting for him when he came back into the bedroom. It was beautifully tailored and he shook his head when he saw the designer label inside the coat. Magnus never did things by halves, that was for sure.

Two hours later, and the room was filled with their family and friends. Maryse came with Max, who looked like he would of rather been running drills with one of his instructors instead of being there.

Robert Lightwood had arrived with his girlfriend and introduced her to Magnus and Alec. She had seemed very nice if not a bit nervous. Clary and Jace were sitting on the floor cushions with Izzy and Simon, laughing and joking with each other. Caterina was there with Madsi who was clinging shyly to her arm. She was still not used to events that had a lot of people at them.

As the night went on, Magnus sought out Clary and they ducked into the bedroom together.

“Here it is, Magnus. Safe and sound. I hope you don’t mind but I did have a peek at it and it’s the most precious thing I’ve ever seen, so unique.”

“Yes, you have no idea what I had to do to get it but I’d do it all again for Alexander. Wish me luck, Biscuit.” Clary gave him a warm hug.

“It’ll be fine. Go for it.” She told him and they headed back out to the party. Magnus searched the room for his boyfriend. He was talking to his mother on the other side of the room. He took a deep breath and started towards him when one of the caterers came up to him about a problem in the kitchen. He went with her to sort it out and then headed back to find Alec.

He only got another two steps before someone pulled him up to talk to him and he tried to be polite but his nerves were really getting to him. After the third person had stopped him he had reached his limit.

“Excuse me, everyone. I want to thank you all for coming to help celebrate Alexander’s birthday with us and I hope you are enjoying yourselves. I have been trying to get to my beloved for half an hour now and I can’t wait any longer. Alexander, can you come here please?” He looked around and saw Alec weave his way to him and stand at his side. Magnus closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“My special Shadow hunter here didn’t want a fuss made for his birthday and he probably thinks that I went too far, yet again but I wanted to make tonight as special as possible for a good reason.” A round of laughter went around the room as everyone watched them. Alec ran a finger around the inside of his collar, nervously. He had always been uncomfortable being the centre of attention. Magnus turned to face him and grabbed his hand. There was something about the way he was looking at him that made him hold his breath.

“Alexander, I want all our friends and family know how much I truly love you. You’ve been there for me in so many ways over the past two years and I hope I have done the same for you. I told you once that you had unlocked something in me and I was right. You had the key to my heart.”

 Magnus took a small red leather box out of his pocket and went down on one knee. The room went completely silent and Alec felt his heart jump into his throat. Magnus opened the case and held it up to him. His eyes grew wide as he saw a ring that had a magical jewel in its center. It was a deep purple and seemed to swirl around like a miniature galaxy. It was breath taking.

“Alexander Gideon Lightwood, would you marry me?” Magnus said, his voice wavering slightly with emotion.

Alec looked to his face and saw tears filling his eyes.  There was only ever going to be one answer.

“Yes, Magnus, I can’t wait to marry you.” The tears streamed down Magnus’ cheeks and he took the ring from its case and slid it onto Alec’s finger before standing up to take him in his arms and kiss him soundly. A loud cheer went up from around the room and everyone came over to congratulate them. Alec felt overwhelmed by all the well-wishers and never let Magnus’ hand go once. Clary, Izzy and even his mother were all in tears and he ended up with a damp shoulder by the time they had let him go. This was one time that Alec had never been happier to be center stage.

[xcwjc-blog]

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[kansascityhappenings]

Japan’s prime minister asks schools to close nationwide to control spread of coronoavirus

TOKYO — Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe asked all elementary, middle and high schools nationwide on Thursday to close until late March to help control the spread of coronavirus in the country.

The request caught many local officials by surprise. While not legally binding, it is expected to be largely followed. It will affect 12.8 million students at about 34,800 schools nationwide, according to the education ministry.

“The coming week or two is an extremely important time,” Abe said. “This is to prioritize the health and safety of the children and take precautions to avoid the risk of possible large-scale infections.”

He also says companies should allow employees to work from home and hospitals must expand their treatment capacity in order for Japan to control its virus outbreak. Abe says slowing the pace of new infections is crucial to stopping the spread of the disease.

Japan has confirmed 860 cases, the third highest number behind China and South Korea. The government is urging people with mild illnesses to stay home or go to family doctors instead of hospitals with specialized virus-control facilities which are treating many seriously ill patients. Already, some companies are allowing remote working by employees.

Vexed by how to contain virus, other countries take tough steps

Saudi Arabia cut travel to Islam’s holiest sites, South Korea toughened penalties for those breaking quarantines and airports across Latin America looked for signs of sick passengers Thursday as the new virus troubled a mushrooming swath of the globe.

With the illness pushing its way into a sixth continent and the number of sick and dead rising, the crisis gave way to political and diplomatic rows, concern that bordered on panic in some quarters, and a sense that no part of the world was immune to the disease’s spread.

“Viruses don’t know borders and they don’t stop at them,” said Roberto Speranza, the health minister in Italy, where northern towns were on army-guarded lockdowns and supermarket shelves were bare.

As growing parts of Europe and the Middle East saw infections and a first case was found in South America, air routes were halted and border control toughened. But for an illness transmitted so easily, with its tentacles reaching into so many parts of the world, leaders puzzled over how to keep the virus from proliferating seemed willing to try anything to keep their people — and economies — safe.

In South Korea, the hardest-hit country outside China, four Busan markets known for colorful silks and a dizzying array of other wares were shuttered while the country’s military sent hundreds of its doctors and soldiers to aid in treatment and quarantines.

In Iran, the front line of Mideast infections, officials loosened rules barring the import of many foreign-made items to allow in sanitizers, face masks and other necessities, and removed overhead handles on Tehran’s subways to eliminate another source of germs. Peru put specialists on round-the-clock shifts at its biggest airport, Argentina took the temperature of some new arrivals and El Salvador added bans for travelers from Italy and South Korea.

The holy city of Mecca, which able-bodied Muslims are called to visit at least once in their lives, and the Prophet Muhammad’s mosque in Medina were cut off to potentially millions of pilgrims, with Saudi Arabia making the extraordinary decision to stop the spread of the virus.

With the monarchy offering no firm date for the lifting of the restrictions, it posed the possibility of affecting those planning to make their hajj, a ritual beginning at the end of July this year.

“We ask God Almighty to spare all humanity from all harm,” the country said in announcing the decision.

Disease has been a constant concern surrounding the hajj, with cholera outbreaks in the 19th century killing tens of thousands making the trip. More recently, another coronavirus that caused Middle East respiratory syndrome, or MERS, prompted increased public health measures, but no outbreak resulted.

COVID-19’s westward creep — including a case in California in the United States that does not appear linked to overseas travel — had some countries warning their people to obey measures intended to keep a single case from blossoming into a cluster that could paralyze a community.

A man originally from Wuhan, the Chinese city at the center of the global outbreak, who contracted the virus was charged alongside his wife in Singapore for allegedly lying about their whereabouts as officials tried to stem further infections. In Colombia, which has yet to report any cases, officials reminded residents they could be jailed for up to eight years if they violate containment measures. And in South Korea, the National Assembly passed a law strengthening the punishment for those violating self-isolation, more than tripling the fine and adding the possibility of a year in prison.

“It came later than it should have,” said Lee Hae-shik, spokesman for the ruling Democratic Party, calling for further non-partisan cooperation to address the outbreak.

Countries’ efforts to contain the virus opened up diplomatic scuffles. South Korea fought prohibitions keeping its citizens out of 40 countries, calling them excessive and unnecessary. China warned Russia to stop discriminatory measures against its people, including monitoring on public transit. Iran used the crisis to rail against the U.S., which it accused of “a conspiracy” that was sowing fear.

The global count of those sickened by the virus hovered around 82,000, with 433 new cases reported Thursday in China and another 505 in South Korea, where the military called off joint drills planned with American troops. Iran’s caseload surged by more than 100 cases.

Even the furthest reaches of the globe were touched by the epidemic, with a woman testing positive in Tromsoe, the fjord-dotted Norwegian city with panoramas of snow-capped mountains. Health officials said the woman had traveled to China.

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports https://fox4kc.com/news/japans-prime-minister-asks-schools-to-close-nationwide-to-control-spread-of-coronoavirus/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2020/02/27/japans-prime-minister-asks-schools-to-close-nationwide-to-control-spread-of-coronoavirus/