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maysbanks · 4 years ago

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hypersonic missiles. (jj maybank)

hello ! some of you may recognise this fic and that’s bc it’s currently being rewritten as an oc fic rather than a reader insert fic which it was before. i can’t wait for you to read this and introduce you all to haley who i love dearly, so pls enjoy and lemme know what you think !!

warnings: swearing, mention of sex, sexual innuendos, drug use, underage drinking, violence etc

summary: after the death of her father, haley grubbs is determined to get the answers her mother seems to be keeping from her, seeking help from a group of pogues (which just happens to include her weekly hook-up) and unknowingly throwing herself into the midst of a treasure hunt.

( gif isn't mine! please let me know if it's yours so i can credit you. )

The gang gathered around John B's porch, spaced out in various positions amongst the furniture. Silence engulfed the group, the air thick with tension as none of the four teenagers dared to speak.

"JJ should be the one to go." Kie broke the silence, her words hanging in the air as the group processed them.

Said boy whipped around in his place, golden hair falling in his sea blue eyes as they widened, glancing wildly between each of his friends. "What?" He demanded. "Why me?"

"Because you're the one that's hooking up with her," Pope reminded, matter of fact. As if JJ needed to be reminded. The dark skinned boy gestured between him and the remaining two. "She's gonna trust you more than any of us."

Kiara and John B murmured their agreement, JJ scoffing as he flapped his arms, beginning to pace in his spot. "This is ridiculous," he muttered between gritted teeth. "She won't wanna talk to me any more than she'll want to talk to you guys. I mean, we've only hooked up like," JJ paused - raising a hand to count on his fingers. "Maybe like, eleven times, twelve at a push!"

Kiara scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Wow, how chivalrous of you to keep count, JJ," she drawled sarcastically, the blonde boy simply shrugging in return as he took his formal position of leaning against the Chateau's wall. "Look, the thing is you know her better than the rest of us. You're familiar, we're not. We can't just go up to her and start asking questions about her dead dad and John B's compass."

JJ stared in disbelief. "And you think I can?" He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know if you guys realise this, but hooking up doesn't really require much talking. I barely know her."

"But you know her enough to warm her bed every week," John B piped up, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. JJ sighed, lighting a fresh blunt as he refused to meet any of the gang's eyes, staring ahead. John B stepped over and beside the blonde, arm thrown over his shoulder. "We need answers, JJ. Answers she could have. I mean, it was her dad right? She must know something about why he had my dad's compass."

JJ nodded along, but the uncertain feeling bubbling in his chest didn't cease. Thoughts of the two men that had chased the group the day before, guns blazing, entered his mind. Then the memory of him and John B showing up at the Grubbs' residence, only to discover they had been beaten to it by the very same men - he'd heard them threaten Lana and Haley Grubbs, demanding questions about the same compass that lay heavy in John B's pockets. He knew his best friend deserved answers, why did Scooter Grubbs have Big John's compass the night he died? Why was Scooter Grubbs out in the storm that night anyway? Hell, even JJ wanted answers. But he couldn't shake the doubtful feeling, thoughts of Haley Grubbs swirling in his head.

"I don't think this is a good idea." He tried once more, voice small and defeated. The Pogues shared a glance, and he knew they'd already come to a decision. Sighing, he flicked the butt of his blunt, sending it flying in the opposite direction. "Fine, I'll go talk to her. But I'm not making any promises that she'll talk," he frowned. "Sometimes I kinda get the feeling she doesn't like me."

Kie snorted. "I wonder why."

What the gang hadn't bargained for, however, was that the same person who'd they been talking about was already on their way to them - boots stomping across the ground in a determined stride, their mind a whirlwind of series of memories, scenarios, and all the events that had happened in the last twenty four hours.

Haley wanted answers, and she wanted them soon. (Sooner rather than later, if she was being precise.) The series of misfortunes events had all begun with the disappearance of her father - for whatever reason, he'd gone out in the storm that raged against the Outer Banks the night prior, and that, unsurprisingly, had led to his death. Memories of his body, washed up on the shore, cold and blue, eyes open but completely lifeless as they stared up at nothing and everything at the same time. Her heart wrenched at the sight, and she still hadn't been able to get the scene out of your head - her mother breaking down in a heap of sobs, Haley’s body following along with her as the pair both held each other and cried, Sheriff Peterkin's voice echoing in Haley’s mind, over and over again, like a siren. “I'm so sorry. There's nothing we could have done."

Haley knew that, of course. But it didn't explain why he was out in the storm in the first place. She had tried to question her mother, because she knew her dad wasn't a fool. Storm Agatha had been reported for weeks following up to it, he'd even made off-handed comments about it over dinner a couple of times. Her dad was aware about the storm, but had still risked his life (and coincidentally, ended it) to take a boat ride, or so that's what her mother told you.

Bull-fucking-shit. Haley knew there was more to the story, the appearance of two men breaking down her door and trashing her whole house was enough proof of that. And the fact that they were asking about a compass, of all things, didn't sit right in Haley’s gut either. Why the hell would two thugs want a compass, and why would her dad have it anyway? To her knowledge, her dad had never owned a compass in his damned life. (He also never owned a boat, which raised the suspicion of how the hell had he even gone out on a boat ride in the first place.) But the pair were persistent, and she was forced to watch as they threatened her and her mom, their last words sticking with her, sending a shiver of dread up her spine every time they echoed in her head; “We'll be back."

It was something straight out of a king-pin movie, and yet Lana Grubbs still wouldn't talk. She knew something, Haley knew it, and why she wouldn't share whatever information she knew with Haley was beyond frustrating - so she decided, fuck it. If her mother wasn't gonna give her her answers, then she was gonna go out and find them herself. Starting with John B. Routledge.

As if things couldn't have gotten any weirder, the teenaged boy had shown up not a minute after the two guys had left, appearing in Haley’s not-so-much of a doorway with the exact thing the thugs were after: the Compass. To her chargin, she hadn't had time to ask any questions though, her mother was quick to dismiss him (and JJ Maybank of all people, but she didn't really want to think about him at the moment) and warned him not to let anyone know that he had the compass, and Haley could see why - those guys were not to be messed with.

And so, John B. Routledge had left the Grubbs’ home, JJ Maybank in tow, and Haley was left to clean up the mess the bastards had left behind them. Her mothers warning rang in her ears; "Stay away from them boys. Do not get involved in this, Hales.” But alas, there she was, storming towards the property she knew the guys would be. Her mother didn't know, of course, and she was determined to make sure Lana never did. (Haley would be the next person she'd be burying if she ever did find it.)

All Haley wanted was answers, and if John B had even a couple, she was going to find them out. Her father had died, and there was more to the story than anyone was letting on. If it was up to her to piece the puzzle together, then so be it. She would, gladly.

So she marched in the direction of the Routledge residence, more determined than ever. As she walked, people gave her pitying looks, obviously recognising her as Scooter Grubbs’ daughter (the newfound bastard of the Outer Banks, sarcasm intended.) and she simply ignored each and every one of them. She didn’t need them, she thought. She was going to find out the truth, and each step Haley took she was closer to uncovering it all. Some people walked towards her as if to stop and talk, probably attempting to give her some kind of condolence, but each time a person did she hurried her pace; she couldn’t be stopped now, she was too close to getting where she wanted to be for some middle-aged folk tell her they were sorry about her loss, even though they couldn’t have cared less about her dad when he was alive.

Fucking bullshit, she thought.

Haley’s stride slowed however, when a familiar looking van made it's way into her vision, memories of it parked outside the very same house she was planning on going running through her already overactive mind. Her stomach churned, thinking she had missed her chance to interrogate the poor unsuspecting boy, before it seemed to slow down and pulled up to right where she was standing on the curb. Her respectively plucked eyebrows raised as the window rolled down, revealing none other than John B sat in the drivers seat, Kiara Carrera in the passenger, and Pope Heyward's and JJ's heads peering around the pair from the back of the van.

John B leaned out, his mop of wavy brown hair entering Haley’s brown eyed gaze, tight smile on his lips. "Haley,” he greeted. “Hey, where are you off to? Need a ride?"

"Actually," Haley drawled as she stepped closer, right arm leaning on the window as she sent a forced smile the teenaged boys way. “I was just heading over to yours. What a coincidence, huh?"

She never missed the look Kiara shot the two guys seated in the back, all of their eyes seemingly communicating in their own weird little telepathical way. John B blinked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water for a few seconds before he seemed to compose himself, clearing his throat. "Oh, really?" He asked, as naturally as he could. (It wasn't very natural at all.) “How, uh, how come?"

"Oh, you know," Haley started, shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly. "Just thought I'd pay you a visit, y'know, like the one you paid me this morning. Remember that?" She asked as innocently as she could manage. (It wasn't very innocent at all.) “Just wanted to ask you a few questions, s'all. Like why you have the one thing those meatheads that trashed my house were after. How you got hold of it, stuff like that."

And then she smiled like they were all sharing a perfectly civil conversation, as if the underlying threatening tone in her voice didn't exist at all. John B sighed, his head turning towards the rest of the group, catching their eyes and seeming to have another one of their telepathic conversations before he turned back to her figure, his head nodding towards the back of his infamous Volkswagen.

"Get in the back," he said - and she did, shooting him a smile that resembled one of a Cheshire Cat, satisfied as she moved to the other side, walking around the van and hearing him mutter from inside, "What? This is the perfect opportunity to ask her." She didn't need to look to know the rest of the gang were probably objecting her presence, but she couldn't care less. This was just the first step to getting what she wanted.

The door to the van was pulled open from the inside, JJ's head popping out and thrusting a hand out towards her to help her climb into the vehicle. Haley swiftly ignored the gesture, missing the flash of confusion and offence that appeared on the blonde's face, climbing into the van and seating herself beside Pope who smiled rather awkwardly toward her.

"I'm, uh, sorry about your dad," he said softly, fidgeting under her gaze. She smiled slightly at him in return, lips quirking more so in amusement at his obvious discomfort at either having her join them, or her being seated so close to him.

"Yeah, me too," Kiara piped up from the passenger seat, glancing over her shoulder towards her. "It must really suck, to just lose him like that."

Haley nodded, head turning in the direction of where JJ sat across from her, rubbing the back of his head as he muttered quietly, "Yeah, I'm sorry too." before averting his eyes when she looked at him, raising her eyebrows.

Kiara ignored him, the awkward silence that presented itself to the pedestrians inside the van only lasting a couple of seconds as she spoke up again. "I can't imagine what you and your mom are going through," she said, soft brown eyes darting to John B quickly before they returned to catch Haley’s once more. "We're always here if you need anything. Pogue's look out for each other, right?"

Haley forced a small smile, not bothering to bring up the fact that Kiara was technically not a Pogue, seeing no point in the matter as she sent her a small nod of appreciation, silently grateful for her words. Haley had always liked Kiara, or Kie, as she was more commonly known as. She had spent many times sat around a fire with her, listening to her rants about the environment and what everyone could do to help it, as an infamous Pogue kegger loomed around them. Haley was grateful for her presence amongst the guys, unsure of the fact that if she wasn't there, she probably wouldn't have entered the van. She was determined, but she also wasn’t stupid. Despite knowing the guys well and practically all her life, (it’s a small town kinda thing), she would never willingly get in a van with them and let them drive her to an unknown destination. Which reminded her suddenly - where the hell were they going?

"We're lucky we got each other, I guess," Haley said in relation to Kie's words. Kie nodded as her eyes darted to John B again. "But thanks, I really appreciate it." She fiddled with the hem of her faded out jean shorts, her next words directed towards John B. "So, care to tell me where we're going? Or better yet, why you have the damned compass my house was trashed for."

Silence filled the air of the Volkswagen. It was suffocating, the air thick with unspoken tension as everybody refused to meet her eyes. Haley was beyond frustrated, incredibly so, and she made a point to catch John B's eyes in the rearview mirror, an eyebrow quirking as she awaited an answer.

Finally, he sighed.

"The compass was my dads," John B revealed. Haley’s mouth opened in shock for a second before she clamped it back shut. "And for whatever reason, your dad had it. We uh, we found it at the wreck of your dads boat yesterday."

"Wait, what?" She demanded, blinking. She glanced between the gang, eyes accusing as she held each of theirs. "You guys found the wreck? And you didn't tell anyone?" She questioned, tone dangerously low. "And you stole from it?"

"It's not technically stealing if it was his compass," JJ defended, shrugging. Haley shot him a glare, feeling a bubble of irritation build deep in her gut. "And anyways, we tried to tell the coastguard about it after we first found it, but the guy was having none of it. They were hounded with the storm."

Her eyes narrowed. "First found it? Exactly how many times have you guys been at the wreck?" She demanded, tone accusatory.

The gang all swivelled to send JJ their own respected glares, Pope's voice small from beside her as he tried to explain. "Only a couple," he started, startling as her head whipped around towards him. "We're really sorry, okay! We didn't know it was your dads when we first found it, if we did, we wouldn't have snooped in his room either!"

Pope seemed to make note of his mistake as the rest of the gang did, Kie letting out a little frustrated groan from the back of her throat as JJ cringed, pointedly avoiding Haley’s gaze. John B's hands gripped the steering wheel tight, a warning "Pope" leaving his mouth.

Haley laughed, though it held no humour. She clasped her hands together, the slap of her palms meeting echoing in the confine space. "Let me get this straight, you guys not only found the wreck of my dads boat and didn't tell anyone about it, but also obviously found where he was staying and snooped in his room," she listed, feeling the familiar build of rage pulse through her body. “I mean, what the fuck you guys?"

"We're sorry," Kiara turned in her seat, meeting the Grubbs’ girl angered gaze. "We swear, if we had any idea it was your dad we wouldn't have. We were just, curious, I guess. We found the key on the boat when Pope first spotted it in the marsh, and before we even snooped we tried to tell the coastguard, but like JJ said, they weren't interested. So, John B and JJ went to look in the room."

Haley sighed heavily, leaning her head back to rest against the wall of the van. She tried to tell herself to calm down - hell, she probably would have done the same thing if it was her in their position, she couldn't get mad at them over that. "And did you guys find anything?" She asked quietly, the gang seemingly relaxing as they recognised her calmer tone of voice.

"Did we find anything?" JJ snorted as he repeated her words, grin falling from his lips at the glares the rest of his friends shot him. Haley sat up straighter, taking note of their warning glances. JJ awkwardly coughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he once again avoided her honey coated eyes. "Uh, not really."

"Not really?" She asked, frown on her plump lips. JJ nodded, tongue darting out to wet his pink lips, uncharacteristically quiet once more. "Okay, what the hell is going on? And no more bullshitting me, I've had enough of that from everyone else for the past forty eight hours. I came to you for answers, I'm not going anywhere without them."

She looked to John B then, hoping, pleading, that he would understand. He'd lost his dad too, nine months ago, supposedly lost at sea, believed to be dead. Haley knew he never believed that though, refusing to agree that his father was dead, insisting that he was simply missing. If there was one person that could understand her need to know about her dad, it was John B. And he knew it too, as he sighed and nodded.

"There was a safe," he started as she listened intently. "There was money inside it, I don't know how much. The cops kinda showed up when we were in there," he admitted sheepishly. "We had to hide before we could count it or anything. But there was also, um, a gun in the safe too."

"A gun?" Haley deadpanned. John B raised his eyes and caught hers, nodding. Haley scoffed in disbelief, running a hand through her almost waist length hair. "Why the hell would my dad have a gun?"

"Um, there's something else you should probably know," JJ blurted. "I kinda, uh, took it."

The Pogues glared at him again, Kie spitting a warning of his name, but the blonde just looked at the girl seated in front of him. Her eyes widened as he brandished the piece of metal, black in colour and daunting in shape. Of fucking course JJ Maybank had stolen her dads gun, she thought. It was so... JJ.

"You stole that from a crime scene?" She sputtered, heart squeezing uncomfortably in her chest as she eyed the object with disdain. JJ nodded, looking almost guilty. "My dads crime scene? What the fuck JJ? Do you realise how much trouble you could get into from taking that? For having that?"

Haley was unsure as to why she seemed to care so much about that, rather than the fact that he'd taken it from her dads motel room, and that the gun was technically her fathers. She didn't want to ponder too much about that, though, there was bigger fish to fry in that moment.

"Sorry," he said, rather dumbly. "You can have it, if you want?"

She stared at him incredulously as he held the gun out towards her, quickly shoving it away from her body as she shook her head forcefully. "What the fuck would I want with a gun, JJ?" Haley demanded. The blonde boy shrugged, suddenly sheepish.

"It was your dads," he stated simply. From the corner of her vision she could see Pope sending him a wild look, brown eyes blown wide as he tried to be subtle and shake his head at his friend, silently warning him to shut the hell up, or so she presumed. "I just thought, y'know-"

"You thought wrong, JJ," Haley interrupted him before he could continue. His eyebrows furrowed as he noted her hostile tone, but let it go as he simply nodded, swallowing thickly when she turned away from him. “So, what happened, after the motel room?"

John B looked glad to be back on the original topic. "Well, it wasn't long after that we found it was your dad. We were gonna tell the police, but uh, we had this crazy idea that there might have been more on the boat, like money or something? I don't know, we just thought-"

"Your dad might've been a straight smuggler," Pope piped up. Haley’s glare made him shrink in his spot. "Sorry, sorry. Not the time, I get it."

"Right," John B said curtly as Kie groaned softly. "So we went to look again, and I found a duffel bag. The marsh was closed, obviously. But we weren't the only ones out there," his voice turned deadly serious. “After I got it, these two guys appeared on a boat. The same two guys that were at your place earlier."

Haley exhaled shakily at the information, memories of the two men entering her mind unwelcoming. The image of them carelessly tearing apart her house, screaming threats at her and her mother, gun held to her temple as their fists left holes in the walls and bruises on her mothers skin. She shuddered and hoped the rest of the gang hadn't noticed, but she could see the pity in John B's eyes as they reconnected with her own.

"They chased after us, and they were shooting at us too. We managed to escape them, and when we got back on land I looked in the bag, and all that was in it was the compass. My dads compass. It's a Routledge family heirloom, and your dad had it."

His tone held accusatory, though she couldn't blame him for it. It was a mystery to even her as to why or how her father had gotten hold of the compass, and she knew John B wanted answers just as much as she did. Haley felt almost guilty that she couldn't give him any as she spoke up, “I didn't know anything about it, I swear. The first time I've even heard of it was today when those guys showed up. I'm sorry, John B."

Said boy nodded, seemingly believing her as he sent a small smile her way, reassuring her. “Anyways, that's why me and JJ went to your place, I just wanted to know if maybe you or your mom knew anything about it or why your dad had it," he shrugged a shoulder, trying to come off as non-chalant. "And that's when we saw those guys again. I'm sorry about that, by the way."

She shrugged too, an expression of what-you-gonna-do on her face. Though she desperately wanted to know more about the compass, and why it could be so important to the thugs, she withheld her questions for the moment, deciding they could come later.

"And then they arrived at mine," John B revealed. Haley’s yes widened in surprise at the sudden revelation, churning of fear twisting at her gut. "They did the exact same at my place that they did to yours; tore the whole place apart, looking the compass I guess."

JJ burst then - Haley jumped as his voice echoed in the van, much more louder than what John B's had been, excitement lacing his tone as he began to recite the story of the two thugs and their mission of tearing John B's poor beloved Chateau apart, hands gesturing wildly around him.

"Yeah, they were fucking crazy man! We were all locked in Big John's office, no way out apart from the window that was fucking painted shut. We could hear them, taunting us, y'know. Like, 'you better not be in there', they even knew John B's name!" JJ rambled, excitable expression painted on his boyish features. "They come in, guns-a-blazing and we're all tryna figure out how the hell to get out of there, before we finally manage to open the window and hide in the fucking chicken coop of all places. It was fucking insane, man. I had to kill a hen just so we could make it out alive."

Haley blinked at that, her jaw dropping slightly as she tried to process all the information he'd thrown at her all within a minute. JJ calmed down from his passionate retale, chest heaving slightly as he took in her dazed expression, sea blue eyes catching hers and holding them. Kiara said his name in a warning tone from the passenger seat, and he snapped out of his stare-off with the olive skinned girl, but she was still looking at him in disbelief.

"That's basically it," John B said from the front of the van, though his face held a slight grimace at his best friends rather dramatic recite. "But yeah, they practically stripped my dads office bare. They took everything, all of his books, research, everything about the Royal Merchant."

If anybody had noticed her sudden stiff posture at the mention of the Merchant, they never spoke on it. The Royal Merchant. Something Haley was all too familiar with. It had been something of a fascination to her father for a while, especially in the weeks leading up to his death. She just thought it was a weird hobby, a strange interest of his that she never really thought much of. It was nice to see her dad passionate about something, she’d thought. No matter how strange she believed it to be, he had a hobby and she was happy for him. But, sitting in the back of John B. Routledge's van, surrounded by a group of teenaged Pogues, one of which she was were all too familiar with, to put it simply, her throat tightened.

Surely the Royal Merchant couldn't have had anything to do with her dad, right? She was just thinking too much, more than likely. But something in the back of her mind was nagging, unforgiving as the thoughts whirled in her head.

"But before the guys showed up, we found something," she focused back her attention as John B continued. "There's something engraved on the compass. Redfield. It's my dads handwriting, he must have put it there for me, before he disappeared."

Haley shared a glance with JJ as John B said the word. Disappeared. Ever the hopeful, yearning boy. She couldn't doubt his wish, she wished for nothing more for her dad to appear back in her life - but she knew that hers was dead, officially. How could she forget, she saw his lifeless eyes every time she closed hers.

But John B didn't have that, he never knew, really, if his father was truly dead or alive. The records said so, but he'd refused to sign them, or so she heard. He was still hopeful, so certain that his dad would just appear back at the Chateau one day, like he'd never disappeared in the first place. But Haley - and many others - were realistic, and the reality was there was very little to no chance that Big John Routledge was alive.

(Her heart broke for the boy.)

She tuned out the rest of the conversation for the remainder of the drive, her head leaning back on the cool metal of the wall as she closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wander with all the possibilities. Could the Royal Merchant really have been a factor in her dads death? She couldn't shake the feeling, as she could hear vaguely the conversation of the gang. John B insisting that his dad was leading him on a mission, Kiara trying to be supportive but anyone could pick up on the doubt in her voice, Pope piping up with rather unhelpful scenarios like Big John having been kidnapped, (Haley had rolled her eyes), and JJ adding his input, multitasking with rolling a blunt. (She’d rolled her eyes harder.)

The thing was, Haley and the Maybank boy had a little deal going on. She could remember the exact day it had begun, at an infamous Pogue kegger, the sun having set and leaving the sky coloured in perfect hues of pink, purple and yellow. It had been a beautiful night, she had to admit. The party had gone strong to the early hours of the morning, and she’d somehow found herself leaving with JJ Maybank. He'd approached her after she witnessed him striking out with a Touron, (surprisingly), eyes narrowing at her when she’d let out a giggle at his misfortune. He had been hostile at first, demanding what she was laughing at, grinning slightly when she informed him simply 'you'.

The rest of the night had been spent in each others company, and Haley could recall the exact moment where they were dancing closely, bodies pressed tight against each other, her arms thrown over his shoulders and wrapped around his neck, his own around her waist, fingers digging into her hips. Their breath mingled together, his forehead leaning against her own, and she’d expected the moment his lips fell on herd, slightly chapped but impossibly soft against her own as they danced in a passionate embrace that secretly took her breath away. She’d let him lead her to John B's Chateau across the beach, hand gripped in one another’s, as he pressed her to every surface until they managed to stumble their way into the spare bedroom.

She had told herself the next morning that it would only be a one time thing. Haley wasn’t one for random hook-ups, not that no one had tried to coax her into one. She was kinda known amongst the island as being this untouchable, obtainable person that nobody could ever get close to. She wasn’t sure what it was about her that made everyone label her as this being - maybe it was the fact that she was a loner and didn’t stick to one friendship group and spent most of her time to herself, maybe it was the fact that people thought she was weird because her dad was known to be such a loser (God rest his soul), or maybe it was the fact that she skateboarded around town morning till dawn, earphones plugged in and music blasting so loud that passerby’s could hear every word clearly.

The point was, she wasn’t known for getting close to anyone. And yet, she had found herself drifting back to JJ Maybank many other nights after that first one, and that’s where their little deal came into play.

But that's where it began, and also where it ended. Hers and JJ's relationship (if you could even call it that) never went beyond that. Random hook-ups here and there, whenever JJ struck out with a Touron and found himself soughting Haley out amongst the crowd to fill the space in his bed. Of course they were always friendly with each other, they’d known each other for so long, that it would have been silly not to continue being friendly. But they never hung out, not with his group, not with him alone apart from their many nights of endeavours, until now, she supposed. She thought it might have been weird, and she thought correct. Neither of them really looked at each other head-on, the air awkward and thick as the driving continued.

Haley was thankful when John B seemed to finally arrive at his destination, and she leaned forward with Pope to glance out the window, spotting the tall lighthouse stood proud in front of the group. Redfield, the name was written boldly on display.

"Redfield Lighthouse," John B spoke. "My dads favourite place."

She clambered from the van as the rest of the guys did, gazing up at the high building with her hand shielding her eyes from the bright sun from where they all gathered at the clearing. John B turned to face JJ. "Right, you're gonna post up and look out for bogeys, okay?"

JJ's eyebrows furrowed as he demanded, "Wait, why me?" His expression only darkened when Pope informed he wasn't to go in the Lighthouse, Haley watching from the sidelines, unsure where to put herseld in the situation. "Why?" He continued to argue.

Pope grabbed hold of JJ's shoulders. "There are independent and dependent variables, you're an independent variable-" he tried to explain but was quickly cut off as JJ began to yell over his words. "We don't know what you'll do!"

"Shut up!"

Haley awkwardly scuffed her boots on the ground as Kiara sent her a small smile from ahead of the boys, rolling her eyes dramatically when Haley caught them. She smiled at the gesture, once again appreciative of her presence. "Listen to me for a second," John B cut in their argument, stepping forward. "Pope, you stand look out with JJ, okay?" The pair in questioned seemed reluctant, but both nodded at John B's persistent glare. The tall brunette turned to her next, gaze softening immensely when he caught sight of her uncertain posture. "Do you mind keeping an eye out here?"

She shook your head immediately, sending him a reassuring nod. "Yeah, sure. That's fine by me. Heights aren't really my thing anyway," she told him as she looked up at the Lighthouse, nausea hitting at a slight force when she stared at the very top of the building amongst the blue sky. "Yeah, I'm good here."

He nodded back at her, a thankful smile on his lips. "If we split up, we meet back at JJ's house." He spoke, directing the words to the whole group. They all nodded their agreement.

"Great." Kie finalised, shooting Haley one last small smile before her and John B began to walk off, jumping the small fence that blocked their path, their stride quickly entering them into the lighthouse. Haley exhaled as they disappeared into the door, and moved her gaze to return on the two boys she was stuck with.

"I'm gonna work on my merit scholarship essay." Pope informed, before he turned and entered back into the van, leaving her and JJ stood on the outside of it, alone and deadly quiet. She looked at the golden haired boy as he pulled out a happy sack from his pocket, beginning to kick it around with his booted foot.

Haley sighed as she leaned on the passenger side door, her teeth biting down on her watermelon flavoured chapstick covered lip as she stared at the grass beneath her feet, her mind racing. A thud caught her attention and she glanced in the direction of where it had come from, a happy sack laying at her feet. She looked back up to JJ, who sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Um, sorry about that."

She huffed out a small laugh, bending down and snatching the sack from the floor. "You don't have to apologise to me JJ," she said softly. Throwing the sack back to him, his large hands reached out and cupped it, bringing it back to his chest. “I'm sorry about this, y'know, gatecrashing your friends' little adventure."

JJ's lips quirked, his muscular arm reaching back and throwing the sack into the air, Haley catching it and holding his eyes. "You're not gatecrashing anything," he assured. In the sunlight, his skin cast a golden glow. "And 'sides you deserve to be here. You're looking for just as much answers as John B is."

"I'm not sure about that," Haley told him and threw the sack to him. "I mean, I'm looking for answers, of course. That's why I'm here. But I'm pretty sure John B needs them more than I do," she glanced at the lighthouse momentarily. "I know what happened to my dad, pretty much. He died while being out in the storm, I know that, I just don't know why he was out in the storm or what he was even up to in the weeks leading up to it. John B doesn't even know for sure if his dad is dead or alive." She shuddered at the thought, shaking her head. "He deserves answers way more than me."

JJ nodded, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek as he paused in throwing the sack back towards her, looking at her small figure thoughtfully. "Do you think they could be connected?" He asked suddenly. Haley stared at him, confusion painted on her face. "Your dads, I mean. Yours and John B's. Do you think they could be connected, like your dads death and JB's dads disappearance?"

She stopped. Could they be, really? She had to admit she thought about it in the van on the journey there, but as quickly as it came it passed. To her knowledge, her dad and Big John didn't really know each other - of course they knew each other, but they didn't mix, or so she believed. But her mind replayed the moment John B mentioned the Royal Merchant, the way her stomach had filled with dread immediately, and she had the sinking feeling that it was very possible that what JJ was hinting at could be true.

"I don't know, maybe," she said instead, not wanting to voice her thoughts. JJ nodded thoughtfully, finally throwing her the sack back. She caught it, and repeated the process back to him again.

"I am sorry, though. About your dad," JJ's voice was soft, careful as he watched her pause, taking in his words. "I was gonna say more before, but with the guys... I know how much he meant to you."

Haley smiled gently, a sudden flutter in her chest alarming her as she nodded appreciatively at his words. "Thank you, JJ," she said quietly, sincerely. "It means a lot."

JJ nodded too, chapped lips pulling into an uncertain half-grin. "And I just wanted to say as well, that uh, I don't want things to be like, weird between us or anything," he stated awkwardly, clearing his throat. Haley almost laughed at the look on his face. "I mean, like, with us hooking up and stuff-"

"It won't be weird," Haley quickly interrupted him, grin overtaking the features of her face despite her better thoughts. "It was just hooking up, right? Not like we're exes or anything. No need to make it weird."

"Right," JJ voiced his agreement. Head full of long blonde locks nodding along at her words, dimples winking at her as they made an appearance in his cheeks when he smiled. "Not making it weird. Here's to that."

She laughed as the happy sack landed in her hands, holding it there as she squinted in the sun, grin cheeky as she gazed at him from her small distance. "Yeah, we'll just have to pretend we've never seen each other naked." She joked as she finally threw him his toy back.

The golden haired boy returned her smile, eyes mischievous as they made a show to glance at her figure from head to toe. "Trust me, I'll have to pretend a lot more beyond that to stay civil."

And before she could even think to voice her thoughts of Fuck, how did that almost kinda turn you on, a sudden and loud blare of a familiar siren startled, Haley’s and JJ's eyes widening as they met, a panicked expression matching in their features.

"Shit!" Haley uttered as JJ dropped the happy sack, her head turning to catch sight of the impending police car making its way towards where they were parked. She quickly glanced to the lighthouse, her heart dropping when she saw no sign of John B or Kiara, JJ grabbing her by the arm suddenly and practically dragging her into the van in the passenger seat, him running to occupy the drivers as Pope's head popped up between the seats, questioning them both erratically. She could give him no answers however, having no idea what had prompted the police to arrive. Haley had no time to think about what could have happened as JJ slammed his foot down, peeling out of the grassy area and away from the scene. "What about John B and Kie?"

"They'll be fine," JJ assured her, though they were empty words. He had no clue what had happened either, or if his friends would make it out and away from the lighthouse in time, but he still reached over and squeezed Haley’s knee gently when he saw her worried look. He caught her gaze and held it. "They'll be fine."

She could only hope that was true.

It was hours later when Haley and the Pogues gathered around John B's kitchen table, deadly silent as everyone processed what had just transpired.

She’d had JJ and Pope drop her off at home after escaping the police at the lighthouse, aware that she had been gone a long while and her mother was probably sick with worry by that point. If she wasn’t home within the hour, Haley had no doubt that she would have the police patrolling the streets, searching for her. When she toldthe boys this, they chuckled as she ordered them to park around the corner from her home, not wanting her mother to spot her leaving the van. She’d told them to call her when they heard from either John or Kiara, and they'd both agreed as she climbed from the van and walked the familiar path to her house.

Sure enough, Lana practically collapsed into her when she’d entered. Her arms were wrapped around Haley so tightly as they squeezed all the air out of her lungs, her mothers voice in her ear a jumbled mess of words laced in a frantic tone. Haley assured her she was fine, that no harm was done, and that she had just gone for a walk around the Outer Banks. Lana seemed hesitant, but had allowed Haley to ease her worries as she led her towards the couch and sat her down, letting her mom hold her for as long as she needed to assure her mind that she were really okay.

Haley felt almost bad, seeing her in such a panicked state. But then she remembered if she had just answered her questions truthfully instead of hiding everything from her than she wouldn't be sneaking around in the first place. And then the guilt subsided, if only a little. (Haley still felt awful.)

It was a couple of hours after that when a knock had sounded on her bedroom window. She had startled, her heart racing as she wondered who the hell could be knocking on her window, at night, too. She almost very nearly didn't go towards it, in fear of the two faces of the men from earlier that day greeting her, but she’d exhaled a sigh of relief when her eyes landed on the face of JJ Maybank.

"Care for a late night drive?" He'd asked, and she’d rolled her eyes. His grin never faltered as he watched her put on her boots, checking in on her mother and determining if the coast was clear to sneak out, before she’d climbed from her window, thankful that the house was only one story as she did so. Despite that fact, JJ's hands still gripped her hips as he helped her (though he didn't have to) down from the window.

She’d felt instant relief when she spotted Kiara and John B sat in the van, having resumed their earlier positions. Kie grinned at her as she got in the back along with JJ and Pope, who smiled at her also, as Haley began to question the both of them on what had happened after they’d fled the scene.

They'd been caught, of course. But they'd also been released, and that was the main thing. Haley decided to focus on the positives as John B drove them all off, this time to a cemetery of all places - leading the way towards a specific grave that he informed them all was his great-great grandmother, Olivia Redfield. Her maiden name, apparently.

And of fucking course inside that crypt was a white FedEx envelope, addressed to Bird, which they would later discover was actually John B's nickname given to him by his dad, who'd actually left the envelope there - hoping one day that his son would find it. (Because of fucking course Big John would do that.)

The pieces to the puzzle were all coming together, bit by it, slowly but surely. They’d all returned to the Chateau upon the discovery of the envelope, which contained a map, the sight very familiar. (The Royal Merchant, of fucking course it was.) And there was a very obvious X displayed on it too, X marks the spot. Along with that, a tape recorder fell into the palm of John B's hand.

"Dear Bird," the voice had started, vaguely familiar to Haley’s ears. There was no question as to who the voice belonged to - Big John Routledge was speaking directly into the room, all five teenagers gathered around listening intently. "I didn't expect to find the Merchant either."

Haley’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, her breath catching in her throat as she glanced at JJ who was beside her, his own face a perfect replica of confusion and amazement.

"There she is, the wreck of the Merchant. If something happens to me, finish what I started." Big John's voice continued to fill the deafening silence of the room. "Go for the gold, kid. I love you, Bird, even if I didn't always act like it. I'll see you on the other side."

The recorder clicked off after that, once again silence engulfing the room. Haley felt her stomach churn, her heartbeat to quicken, her palms beginning to sweat. She couldn't believe it. Big John Routledge had gone and found the Royal Merchant. The Royal Merchant, of which her own father had spent months obsessing over. The Royal Merchant, as in the ship that had sunk over two hundred years ago. The Royal Merchant, in which had bought her and this ragtag group of misfits together.

They all littered around the pontoon close to John B's house, beers in hand as Kie strummed softly on her ukulele, the night air a welcome comfort to Haley’s clammy skin, her heart having still not calmed from when she’d first come to the realisation that Big John had found the Royal Merchant, and now she was joining the Pogues on finishing what he had started - for her own father, she thought as she looked towards the stars in the summer nights sky, smiling softly up at them. For you, dad.

"How much was it again?" JJ broke the silence, the golden haired boy seated closest to her.

"Four hundred mil," John B reminded, though he said it dreamily, almost as if he still couldn't quite believe it. She couldn't, either, in all honesty. Five teenagers, about to charge head-first into a treasure hunt? They had to be crazy. But for four hundred million, anyone would be.

JJ's head turned at rapid speed, before he let out a sigh and clasped his hands together, looking between them all. "Alright, let's talk the split. Now, before we say 'evenly' may I remind you that I am the only one that can properly defend us from those groupers who were after us," he branded the gun, waving it around as he spoke. "Protection? Not cheap, okay?"

"Technically, that should be my gun," Haley pointed out, shrugging a shoulder and smiling cheekily when he turned to glance over at her, frown etched on his lips. "You said so yourself, remember?"

"You said you didn't want it!" He protested instantly.

She licked her lips as she teased him, "Well, maybe I changed my mind."

JJ shook his head, tongue running over his teeth as he stared at her in disbelief, though his smile was enough to let her know he found humour in her actions. "You don't just get backsies on a gun," he deadpanned.

Haley rolled your honey coated eyes as Pope quickly interrupted the two of them. “You haven't trained," he directed towards JJ. "You've done zero training."

"YouTube, bro!" JJ countered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "This," he pointed to the gun. "Is at least a five percent bump right there."

The group collectively ignored him, though Haley sent him a smirk when he looked at her, an expression of am-I-right or am-I-right on his pretty face. Kie tilted her head towards Pope. "What are you gonna do with your eighty mil, Pope?" She questioned.

"Pay for college in advance," the boy answered immediately. "And also, textbooks. Those are expensive."

Haley couldn't help but smile at him, Pope, ever the thoughtful one. She knew if she had half the brains Pope had she’d probably be the exact same as him - planning ahead, working towards college more than anything. She admired the boy, truly. But her future wasn't nearly as bright as Pope's, she was aware of that. Which made the desire to find that treasure from the Royal Merchant all that more huge.

"What about you, Haley?” She was broken from her thoughts as Kie suddenly directed her words to the other girl, raising an expectant brow as she came to, noting the rest of the gang all looking at her with similar expressions.

What would she do with her money? Honestly, she had no idea. She felt incredibly lucky to even be considered to get a share of it, given that she had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, demanding answers about her dead dad and the damned compass that had started it all in the first place. She’d questioned the guys immediately after the discovery of Big John's reveal, telling them that she was totally okay with not getting a share, had even told them she’d back off and leave them to it, though so many more questions needed answering in her mind. But they'd all immediately disagreed, letting her know that she were apart of this just as much as they all were. This was her journey, too.

"Move me and my mom out of our shitty house," Haley decided. "Get a huge ass house on Figure Eight, buy anything that we wanted. Treat her to everything she could have ever dreamed of. Maybe buy a holiday home in Italy, visit there every year and have a holiday romance with an insanely hot Italian guy."

Her and Kiara shared a giggle at that, missing the way the blonde beside her shifted almost uncomfortably, eyes downcast towards the water for a second before he licked his lips, proclaiming loudly, "I know what I'll do. I'm gonna get a big ass house on Figure Eight, and go full Kook," JJ announced, eyes meeting hers and sending her a wink. "We can be neighbours."

Haley laughed outright, shaking her head at his dramatics as he continued. "Gonna get a marble statue of myself, and then I'm gonna get a koi pond, put a bunch of those fish-"

"I'm never visiting." Kie mumbled, interrupting his sentence as they all shared a laugh, gazes suddenly turning to John B who hadn't spoken in a while, the tanned brunette simply staring off into space, almost seemingly lost in his world.

"What about you, John B?" He looked back towards the four of them sprawled out on the pontoon, his eyes catching Haley’s own for a millisecond, the pair of them understanding exactly what was going through both their minds in that moment.

"To going full Kook," he raised the hand that held his beer, the group of Pogues wasting no time in following the action, all their hands raising, beer cans glinting under the moonlight as they all exclaimed, "To going full Kook!" into the summer nights air, the excitement and anticipation present in all of their voices.

And she grinned as she clinked her beer with JJ's, the blonde throwing a careless arm over her shoulder as he tugged her closer to him; Haley’s own naturally wound around his waist in return as they all laughed and joked into the night, the promise of an adventure and bright future's ahead of them all.

She failed to notice that their arms never really left each other until later that night, when her departure from the gang forced her to unwind her limbs from his, their gazes catching, secret smiles on both their faces.

Oh, this would be fun.

232 notes · View notes

hysterialevi · 4 years ago

Text

Reið - A sequel to Naudr

Fanfic summary: Sigurd visits Valka after having a vision about Eivor, and finally admits his love for the man.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

Author’s note: WOW. I can’t thank you guys enough for the support you gave on my other fanfic, Naudr. I wasn’t planning to write more for that one, but quite a few people were asking for a sequel, so here it is. It’s a bit longer than the first part, but I really wanted to conclude the story between Sigurd & Eivor. Hope you enjoy :)

RAVENSTHORPE

AFTERNOON

Hovering his fist over the door to Valka’s hut, Sigurd found himself frozen by hesitance as he pondered whether or not this was a good idea, admittedly tempted to turn back around.

He wanted to find the answers to the endless list of questions that had been troubling him lately, but with the amount of possible outcomes that could’ve transpired from this visit, Sigurd couldn’t deny that he feared whatever awaited him in the future.

What if the dreams were right? He wondered. What if they signified that of which he already suspected? What if he didn’t need Valka’s interpretation to begin with?

For an entire month, these incessant dreams had kept him preoccupied. They crept into his thoughts; dug into his life. They distracted him during a time of war, and drifted him away to a place where there was no reason to be found.

And even worse, there seemed to be no remedy for them. No matter how much mead he drank, or how many extravagant tales Dag regaled him with, they always seemed to linger in the back of his mind, clawing at him like an itch that just wouldn’t go away.

It was exhausting, at this point. Sigurd could hardly get a wink of sleep at night anymore, and with the same questions repeating themselves over and over again in his head, he felt desperate to find some sort of clarification that would put his mind at ease.

Fortunately, there was one more option that he had yet to try.

And it was waiting for him on the other side of this door.

Finally deciding to go through with his plan, Sigurd briefly knocked on the wooden surface and patiently waited for a response, pacing back and forth in anxiety.

He had no idea if it was foolish of him to open up about his inner conflicts like this, considering how controversial they were, but Valka had never been a woman to judge him based on his private thoughts.

He just hoped the seeress would have some answers for him today. These visions had disrupted his life for long enough, and the longer he allowed them to fester beneath the surface, the more Sigurd feared they would eventually break through.

Odin willing, it would never come to that.

“Sigurd Jarl,” Valka’s voice suddenly said from behind, causing the man to whip around. “What a pleasant surprise to see you here.”

Sigurd smiled at the völva, trying to hide the unease he felt within. “Valka. I didn’t know you were out. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

She held up a reassuring hand. “Have no fear. I was simply collecting ingredients for my rituals. Normally, Eivor helps me gather them, but the man appears to be occupied with other matters today. I did not wish to disturb him.”

Valka stepped closer to the jarl, tilting her head in an inquisitive manner. “But set all that aside. What brings you to me, Sigurd? I must admit, it is a great curiosity to find you on my doorstep. Are you in need of my services?”

The viking sighed in fatigue. “I’m afraid so, old friend. I’ve been having... dreams, lately. Visions. They haunt me in my sleep, and consume my thoughts during the day. Their meaning continues to elude me, but I suspect there is something of great importance behind them. I’d like to hear your opinion.”

Valka nodded in understanding, eyeing Sigurd with a newfound interest. “Indeed. I sense a great burden resting on your shoulders; a battle being fought inside your heart. It would be wise to unravel the messages your dreams are attempting to convey, for one cannot fight while a war wages inside them.”

She beckoned Sigurd, gesturing to the hut’s door. “Come, my friend. Let us see if we can decipher your dreams together.”

Walking through the entrance, Sigurd stepped into the serene atmosphere of the hut as he followed Valka from behind, craning his neck downwards in order to fit through the short archway.

Inside, he was immediately welcomed by a strong mixture of aromas that consisted of incense and herbs, and the delicate clings of multiple wind-chimes could be heard dancing throughout the breeze.

It was peaceful in here, Sigurd thought. Valka always seemed to give off a meditative aura wherever she walked, and now that they were in a more secluded area, he felt better suited to share his thoughts.

Though, that didn’t mean he was free of his skepticism just yet.

“Now, then...” Valka said, placing her freshly gathered ingredients down, “let’s talk about your visions, Sigurd. How often do you experience them? And when do they come to you?”

Sigurd leaned against a wall, crossing his arms in a casual manner. “They plague my dreams every night, I’m afraid. In spite of all my efforts to block them out.”

Valka rubbed her chin in thought. “And what of the images you see in them? Are they always the same?”

“Mostly. There are slight differences every once in a while, but ultimately, they seem to be variants of the same vision.”

“Then it would be foolish to ignore them,” Valka concluded. “One does not experience such persistent dreams as a coincidence. Especially ones that seem to be so strongly connected. The gods are trying to speak to you, Sigurd.”

The jarl shrugged in confusion. “But what are they saying?”

“Well,” Valka approached the man, “why don’t we find out? Tell me what happened in your most recent vision. And please, be as descriptive as possible.”

Sigurd took a deep breath and thought back to his latest dream, trying to recall every single detail.

“I remember... it started in a forest. The trees around me were tall and dense, and the space between them was filled with a fog so thick that it obscured everything in its path. It felt as if I was walking through the depths of Niflheim itself. I didn’t know where to go, or how to find my way out, but eventually, I came across a wild boar. It was alone in the forest, and... it seemed to be beckoning me. So, I followed it.”

Valka raised a brow in curiosity. “Oh? And where did this boar take you?”

“It led me through the woods, as if it knew the way out. But our journey was not without delays. First, the boar took me to an opening in the forest. There was a group of runestones there, all of them arranged in a circle. And in the middle stood a statue of the god Forseti, gazing down at me.”

That piqued the seeress’ interest. “Forseti? The god of justice? Most curious...” she paused for a moment, contemplating the vision. “Tell me, where else did this boar lead you?”

“Its next destination was a great bridge,” Sigurd remembered. “It spanned across a large river, and was thatched with glittering gold.”

“Gjallarbrú.” Valka instantly recognized. “The Bridge to Hel.”

Sigurd agreed with the statement. “That’s what I thought as well. But what could it mean? A boar leading me to the gates of Hel?”

The völva shook her head in uncertainty. “I do not yet know, but the message behind your dream becomes clearer with every word. Please, continue. Did this boar take you anywhere else?”

The man nodded. “Yes, there was one more location. In fact, the events that happened there are the reason I come to you now.”

“Then tell me, and let us hope that it offers some form of clarity.”

“Well, the boar led me deeper into the woods,” Sigurd carried on. “By now, the mist had become so thick that I could hardly see where I was walking. I had nothing but the sounds of the forest to guide me, and the boar had abandoned my side, leaving me alone. After a while of wandering though, I found myself standing in front of an ominous cave. The inside was shrouded in darkness, and the nature around it seemed to be devoid of any life.”

Valka posed a question. “Did you approach this cave?”

“Yes,” Sigurd answered. “I meant to search it. But before I could enter, I heard a horrible squeal coming from the inside, as if the boar had just been attacked. The stench of blood filled my nose soon after, and just as I reached for my blade, I heard a menacing growl rumbling from the shadows. Before I knew it, the head of a black dragon had emerged from the cave’s mouth, and its teeth were covered in red. But instead of finding the boar in its grasp as I expected...”

Sigurd paused, admittedly feeling somewhat disturbed, “...I saw myself. Dead, and clamped between its jaws. That’s when the dream ended.”

Taking in everything the jarl just told her, the seeress fell into a concentrated silence and paced around the hut for a moment, gazing blankly at the floor as Sigurd waited for a response.

“...Valka?” The viking said, walking closer to her. “Do you have any idea what this could mean?”

The woman turned to face him, briefly explaining her thought process as she analyzed his peculiar vision.

“Indeed. This dream speaks very plainly to me, Sigurd. Though, I must warn you -- you will not like what it has to say.”

The man sighed in nervousness, bracing himself for her interpretation. “I can’t say I’m surprised. These dreams have always given me a grim feeling. Very well, then. What do you think the message is?”

Valka walked him through her observation, addressing each of the key moments. “This forest you spoke of -- the one shrouded in mist -- it sounds like a labyrinth. A maze with no clear beginning, and no clear end. It seems to me that you are feeling lost, Sigurd. That you are uncertain of your direction in life.”

“...As for this boar,” she continued, “boars are often a symbol of fertility. Or love. They are even sometimes sacrificed during weddings to ensure good fortune for a new marriage. So the fact that this animal was the only way you could navigate the forest intrigues me...”

The seeress gazed out one of the windows in thought, speaking mostly to herself as she unraveled Sigurd’s vision.

“And the appearance of Forseti -- that is no coincidence. As I said before, he is the god of justice, so I believe his presence indicates a feeling of being judged, or tried.”

Valka faced the jarl, placing her hands on her hips. “Do you feel remorse for something you have done, Sigurd? A sense of guilt, perhaps?”

The man shrugged. “No, for I have done nothing wrong.”

“Not yet,” the völva corrected. “But you will.”

Sigurd couldn’t deny that he was alarmed by the statement. “And... what exactly do you think I’ll do?”

Valka skipped to the end of his vision. “Well, in order to answer that, we must first understand this dragon you encountered. You said it attacked the boar when you arrived at the cave, yes?”

“Yes. But as I later revealed, it was my own corpse being held between its teeth.”

“Hmm... then I believe this dragon was Nidhogg.”

“Nidhogg?” Sigurd repeated in surprise. “You mean the dragon that resides in Hel?”

Valka gave him a firm nod. “Yes. As you know, Nidhogg feasts on the corpses of the souls that occupy Hel -- specifically those who have committed the most egregious crimes. These crimes can include murder, oath-breaking, or...” she threw a glance at the jarl, “...adultery.”

The seeress stepped in front of Sigurd, closing the distance between them as she explained her final conclusion to him.

“The message is clear. You are in love with someone who you know you shouldn’t be. Someone who isn’t Randvi. You feel disoriented in life because you do not know how to confront these emotions, but you know that this person is the only one who can clear the way. Unfortunately, however...”

Valka’s tone softened with sympathy, “...since you are spoken for, you understand that it is forbidden to chase after these feelings. This explains the presence of Forseti, and why Nidhogg would feast on your corpse.”

Valka placed her hands on Sigurd’s shoulders, looking him in the eye. “You are fighting a war against your own heart, and it is destroying you. You know you cannot endure this battle for much longer... and that is why you will betray Randvi.”

Sigurd’s eyes widened in shock at that. “What...?”

He pushed the völva’s hands off, backing away from her. “N-No. I wouldn’t do that. No matter how strong my feelings may be. Randvi is a good friend. I would never hurt her like that.”

Valka crossed her arms, unsurprised at the man’s defiance. “You would not be the first to fight against the Nornir, but heed my words, Sigurd. It is an effort doomed to end in futility. You will betray Randvi, and you will do so in the name of whomever truly has your heart.”

Still, Sigurd refused to believe her. “But I am a jarl, Valka! I have duties to carry out. People to take care of. There’s an entire community depending on me! Surely, I would not sacrifice it for something as... as reckless as this! No matter how strong the temptation is.”

“A man’s love can only be restrained for so long, Sigurd. You must learn to accept this. For your own sake.”

The viking’s shoulders slouched with worry. “But we are talking about adultery, Valka. One of the most severe betrayals of a person’s trust. My love may not rest with Randvi, but even then... I could not harm her in such a manner. I could not jeopardize this clan for my own passions.”

The seeress let out a sigh, worried for the future of her jarl. “The gods have spoken with this vision, Sigurd. The more you struggle within the threads of fate, the more you will simply hinder yourself.”

Valka returned to the ingredients she collected earlier, preparing them for her next ritual.

“I have given you all the aid I can. Do with my words what you will, but remember... the gods are always guiding us.”

~~~~~~~~~~

ONE WEEK LATER

NIGHTTIME

Sitting quietly on a wooden crate, Sigurd watched the soothing movement of the river in front of him as its waters gently rippled past the harbor, filling the air with a soft trickle that seemed to harmonize with the chirping of nearby crickets.

At the moment, the rest of the clan was celebrating the success of a recent raid and helping themselves to an abundance of food, all of which had been freshly provided by the newfound facilities in their settlement.

Joyous laughter could be heard echoing in the distance, and despite the overwhelming darkness of the blank English sky, the longhouse only seemed to shine brighter in its shadow, radiating like a beacon.

Unlike his fellow clan members however, Sigurd had little room in his mind left for celebrating. His thoughts still lingered on what Valka told him the previous week, and in spite of all efforts to fight against his feelings, Sigurd knew deep down that what the völva said was true.

He was in love with Eivor. And there was nothing he could do about it.

That man was just... everything he wanted.

His personality, his spirit, his passion for poetry -- it all clicked with Sigurd in a way that he had never felt with anyone else before. There was a certain warmth that filled his heart every time he laid eyes on the man, and with each passing day, Sigurd found it harder and harder to hide his true emotions.

But why couldn’t he forget about this? Why couldn’t he just bury his thoughts and ignore them like he always did with previous men?

Why couldn’t he just... be normal?

Gods above, Sigurd cursed to himself. what would Styrbjorn have thought about him if he could see him now?

The last time he saw his father, he had left him behind to deal with the politics in Norway right after scolding him about giving up his birthright. He had forced Eivor and the rest of the clan to follow him into a hostile territory, and now, he was about to ruin his own marriage for the sake of his love life.

Everything was falling apart in his world... and as much as he may have wanted to scream at the gods for allowing him to go down such a path, Sigurd knew it was ultimately his fault.

And someday, the consequences would catch up to him.

“...Sigurd?”

Jolting his head in the direction of the sudden voice, the redheaded man turned around to see who had approached him, only to find none other than Eivor himself watching from a short distance.

“Brother.” Sigurd greeted bleakly. “I should’ve known you’d find me sooner or later.”

The younger man smiled, attempting to lighten his sibling’s foul mood. “What are you doing out here, silly bird? Everyone at the feast misses you.”

The older man brought a hand up to his temple, rubbing it in stress. “Now’s not a good time, Eivor.”

Still determined to cheer his brother up, the blond viking paused for a moment before taking a seat next to Sigurd, gazing at him with a humorous twinkle in his eyes.

“...What about now?”

Sigurd sighed. “Eivor, please.”

The younger man frowned, suddenly worried about what was going on.

“Not even a chuckle, huh. Must be pretty serious.” He leaned closer to the man, his voice quiet with concern. “...Care to share your thoughts?”

Sigurd let out a breath, unsure of how to broach the subject with him.

“No. Not really. I have much on my mind right now, and I fear it would not do either of us any good to put them into words.”

Eivor’s expression sank with unease. “If that is what you wish. But I must admit, Sigurd... I’ve been worried about you lately.”

That caught the older man’s attention. “Oh?”

“Indeed. You’ve... changed this past week. And not for the better. You’ve become more distant. Reserved. Sometimes, I feel as though you’re trying to avoid me.” A realization crossed Eivor’s mind. “...Have I done something to upset you, brother?”

Sigurd shook his head, quick to reassure the man. “N-No, Eivor. It isn’t you.”

Eivor’s brow remained furrowed. “But it is something.”

The redheaded man turned away from his brother, annoyed with himself.

“Listen, Eivor... I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I need to be alone right now. My thoughts are caught in a haze at the moment, and being with you does nothing except tangle them even further. So, please... just leave me be.”

The younger man fell silent at the response, admittedly somewhat hurt by Sigurd’s words. Was he truly that much of a burden?

Picking up on Eivor’s discontent, Sigurd instantly felt a tinge of guilt tugging at his heart as he took a moment to recompose himself, hoping to reconcile with the man.

“Forgive me, Eivor...” he said softly. “I... I did not mean...”

Eivor slowly began to separate himself from his brother, not wishing to provoke him any further.

“...I understand, Sigurd.” He murmured sorrowfully. “I’ll... I’ll go now.”

Sigurd immediately rose from his seat and gripped Eivor’s arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Wait!” He urged. “I...”

The older man trailed off into silence, uncertain of how he was going to explain his feelings.

“...I had a vision.” He finally admitted, deciding to open up. “Many of them, in fact. They had been bothering me ever since we left Norway, and so I asked Valka for clarification. I hoped she would be able to put my mind at ease.”

It didn’t take long for Eivor to catch on. “...But that’s not what happened, is it.”

“No. She was able to decipher my vision, but the message behind it was... unnerving, to say the least.”

The blond man turned back towards Sigurd, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“Speak plainly to me, brother.” He encouraged in a comforting tone. “What happened in your vision? Why are you so troubled?”

Sigurd took a deep breath, unable to hide behind this facade any longer.

“I’ll spare you the details of my dream,” he said, sitting back down, “but Valka claimed it was a warning of what was to come. She believes it indicates that I’ll... betray Randvi. That I will commit adultery.”

Eivor sat beside his brother, clearly surprised by the explanation. “Adultery? That’s a serious crime, Sigurd. Do you know whom you’ll commit it with? Did Valka say?”

The older man shook his head in a dour manner, his expression heavy with heartache.

“No. But she did not need to. For I already know the answer.”

Lacking the willpower to explain his visions any further, Sigurd simply brought his gaze to Eivor and stared at the man with a prominent sense of despair in his eyes, wishing desperately that he could rid himself of these feelings.

“Eivor...” Sigurd whispered, not knowing how else to describe his emotions, “I...I think I’m in love with you.”

Taken aback by the sudden confession, Eivor froze on the spot and felt his body turn to ice as he processed what he just heard, admittedly unsure of how to respond.

“You’re... in love with me?” He repeated, still in shock. “But when I kissed you that night in Norway, you said--”

“--I know what I said.” Sigurd interrupted, his shell cracking with every word. “But I was wrong. I realize that now. The truth is... I’ve loved you for a very long time. I think I’ve always felt this way, even before our conversation in Fornburg. But I was never willing to admit it.”

Eivor listened intently. “And now?”

“Now...” the older man choked up, despite his efforts to conceal it, “I... I don’t know. I don’t know what to feel. I don’t even think it matters.”

Sigurd turned to face his brother, his tone sharp with frustration. “I’m a married man, Eivor. And a jarl. I have responsibilities to take care of. Matters to attend to. There is an entire clan watching my every move; reflecting my every thought. It doesn’t matter if I love you or not. The simple fact is... I can’t. I was never meant to.”

Eivor sensed the pain in the other man’s words, wishing he could help. “What do you mean you were never meant to?”

Sigurd chuckled, though not out of amusement. “Isn’t it obvious? We are both men, Eivor. When was the last time you saw a marriage between a couple like us? Or a jarl waltzing around with his husband in tow? It doesn’t happen because it was never supposed to.”

He dragged a hand down his face, shutting his eyes in embarrassment. “Can you imagine what my father would think if he saw me now? His only son -- the man who would’ve taken his place as king -- throwing away the marriage that he arranged for the sake of being with the man he adopted. What a joke.”

The younger man offered some insight, trying to heal his brother’s wounds.

“...I understand if you’re concerned about betraying Randvi, Sigurd. But there’s no shame in loving another man. You wouldn’t be the only one who’s felt this way. And you won’t be the last.”

Sigurd remained obstinate. “That doesn’t mean it’s right. I need to set an example for our clan, Eivor. I need to be the one to guide them through this war. How can I do that when I feel like this? When I’m...” his voice began to tremble, “...when I’m in love with you?”

The redheaded man rose from his seat, pacing around the pier in annoyance.

“I just don’t understand why the gods would afflict me with such a nuisance. Is this my punishment for leaving my father’s side? Is this their way of testing my resolve? I know it isn’t right for me to feel this way, but...” Sigurd’s eyes became misty with tears, and he looked hopelessly out at the river, “...it’s just who I am. And I don’t think I can change it.”

Standing alone at the edge of the harbor, Sigurd buried his face in his hand as he silently stared down at the water, feeling as though he were already drowning in it.

What kind of mess had he gotten himself into? Not only was he on the verge of endangering his marriage with Randvi, he was also one step away from turning Valka’s prediction into a reality.

He couldn’t love Eivor. He just couldn’t.

Too much was already at stake with the war against the Saxons -- and considering how they had next to no allies in Mercia at the moment, Sigurd knew he couldn’t afford to divert his focus.

But his heart had a mind of its own. No matter how much he tried to suppress these emotions, or pretend they didn’t exist, they always seemed to come right back up. Like a tide crashing against the shore.

Eivor was the only one he wanted. The only person he had ever longed to be with. There was a type of love between them that Sigurd had never felt anywhere else, and with the Nornir constantly pushing him to confront his fate, he wondered if there was any point in resisting it by now.

But it was a feat much easier said than done. Even though Sigurd knew this was something he couldn’t simply wish away, he was still hesitant to face it head-on.

There were too many risks. Too many unknowns. The future remained obscured by fog -- just like the forest in his dream -- and the deeper he found himself venturing into this dilemma, the less Sigurd was certain he’d be able to climb out of it.

Snapping back to reality, Sigurd’s head perked up in surprise when he suddenly felt a pair of arms wrapping themselves around his chest, drawing him into a tight embrace.

Eivor’s head was resting on his shoulder at the moment, and despite the harsh words Sigurd threw at him before, the man didn’t appear any less determined to help him through this.

“...I understand how you feel, Sigurd.” He reassured. “If I’m being honest, it wasn’t too long ago that I felt the same way. I hated myself for how I saw the world, and I wanted nothing more than to be like everyone else.”

Eivor gazed up at the sky, watching calmly as a blanket of stars flickered above them. “I remember I used to dream of the day when it would all make sense. When... everything would fall into place. But it never happened, because I was never willing to make the sacrifices that came with it.”

The younger man looked back at Sigurd, holding him close.

“The truth is, brother, there is no easy way out of this. The journey ahead of you is going to be full of denial and judgement, and there are going to be times when you’ll wish you never said a word about this to anyone. But when you find yourself trapped in those moments, just remember...”

Eivor brought a hand up to Sigurd’s cheek. “The best gift we can give ourselves is acceptance. It won’t always protect us against those who may wish us harm, but it will offer us peace. And sometimes, assurance in our identity can guard us better than any amount of armor can. After all, it is difficult to harm a man who does not fear pain.”

Sigurd took in everything his brother just said, admittedly a tad overwhelmed by it all, but feeling more content.

“...You always know the right thing to say, Eivor.” He replied with a small smile.

The younger man chuckled, separating the hug. “Not always. But as I said before, I understand your struggle. And I know a few other people who do too. You are not alone in this, Sigurd.”

The redheaded man placed his hand on top of Eivor’s, gripping it securely.

“Thank you, Eivor. I mean it. It will take me some time to fully accept this, but... I think I’m ready to try.”

Eivor beamed brightly at the statement. “It gladdens my heart to hear it, Sigurd. You know I’ll always be here if you need me.”

Sigurd stepped towards the other man, his voice gentle with affection.

“I know.”

Pulling Eivor’s face closer to his, Sigurd suddenly placed a loving kiss on the man’s lips and held him tight, embracing him under the soft light of the stars that dusted the sky above them.

Every fiber in his being was screaming at him to stop, but in spite of the protestations, Sigurd felt more at peace than he had ever felt in his entire life.

There was a genuine sense of love between them. A sense of security. Everything about Eivor made Sigurd feel safe, and the shell he once wore had completely fallen apart.

Though, he knew he was going to regret this, come the next morn. The world always seemed to realign itself with the arrival of daybreak, and Sigurd had no doubts that their relationship would summon a storm in the near-future.

But this was what he needed. It was what he wanted.

A new path had finally revealed itself in the mist that often clouded Sigurd’s dreams, and even though he knew it would be full of obstacles just like the one in his vision, he now understood that it was necessary to traverse it.

No matter how harshly people judged him, or how drastically their view of him changed, Sigurd was prepared to face the challenges that lay ahead. He may have carried a heavy sense of dread in his heart, but now, he realized that Eivor was the key to his happiness.

That man was the greatest gift Freyja ever gave to him, after all.

And he had no intentions of letting him go.

#assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #ac valhalla fanfic #eivor wolfsmal #eivor wolfkissed #male eivor #sigurd styrbjornson #sigurd x male eivor #sigurd x eivor

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linklethehistorian · 4 years ago

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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 14/???)

Episode 27 — The God of Fire (2/4)

Contrary to the presentation of the conversation between Dazai and Chuuya following the former’s aforementioned actions in the anime, where it simply ends on the suicidal boy’s several agreements that shooting a dead body is probably excessive and unnecessary and that his partner is right to claim such, that is not really the way it truly unfolded within its source material; no, instead, when Chuuya asks him to show respect for the dead by not continuing to shoot the man’s lifeless form, Dazai only acknowledges his statement once — his superficially familiar “Yeah. You’re right.” taking on an entirely different tone and context in the novel — before adding that that is ordinarily what people would think and pausing a moment, laughing dryly at his own statement soon after as he walks away towards the mansion.

Of course, I suppose that you may be wondering why something as seemingly small as removing his laughter and perhaps swapping a few choice words out for others is such a big deal to me — or to anyone else, for that matter — when it ultimately all sounds much the same, and I suppose I can’t really blame you for that, either, but it’s necessary for you to understand that in this case, the key to the scene’s proper nuance really does lie in these very things that were taken away from us. As I said above, the words, “Yeah. You’re right” are used by Dazai in an entirely different light between the two versions; while in the animation, it was clearly used as an agreement with the redhead’s sentiment, in the novel, it functioned more as a show of attentiveness towards the person presenting their views to him, as well as an acknowledgement that this was something he’d heard many times before from other “normal” people and thus was not the least bit surprised to be told again — especially when Chuuya was, from his then-current perspective, not any different from the rest of the masses in his thought processes.

On the question of whether or not this is a compliment or an insult, I think that it is worth acquiescing that it may genuinely be a bit of both, for although I personally lean more towards the latter and have my own reasoning for believing it was meant as such, I do think that Lea also has some rather interesting insight into and ideas on the matter, herself, and I absolutely don’t want to just ignore her point of view on it, when I do feel that it too at least bears a decent amount of consideration; therefore, I will do my best to give a bit of elaboration on both angles, along with asking that if I fail to explain her thoughts well to you, you might feel free to check out the post in which she originally goes over it.

From Lea’s personal standpoint, it is her belief that the bandaged teen’s laughter at his assertion that Chuuya’s thoughts were ordinary compared to his was not meant as a mockery towards Chuuya or so-called “ordinary” people, but rather was aimed at himself; according to her explanation, this is because Dazai is well aware of how strange his mind is and, as such, how he himself can never qualify as or belong to the notion of anything ‘ordinary’, thus causing him to hold some bitterness towards himself for how out of place he is in the world and how little he believes he can ever fit in. As before, whilst I may hold a different opinion on the situation overall, I don’t actually think this interpretation is precisely wrong, nor do I think it should be completely overlooked, as I absolutely don’t doubt that Dazai does, to some extent, feel a deep dissatisfaction in himself because of how ‘different’ and, in a sense, removed from everyone else, he is, and how that has led to him experiencing this great emptiness inside and struggling to want to continue living; I don’t doubt for even a moment that there are and have often been times in the past when Dazai may have been, on some level, jealous of those around him and perhaps even had a part of him wish that he could be like everyone else, because I’m almost sure that all of this has been true — at least, at one point or another.

That being said, though, that also does not erase the fact that regardless of any envy he may feel for the general population, it is absolutely not because he in any way believes them or their ways of thinking to be genuinely superior; in fact, based on all that has already been established about Dazai — both in this particular entry and all of those in the past as well — I think it is very fair and safe of me to make the assessment that, if anything, it is exactly the opposite that is true. Dazai envies others and their thought processes not for some alleged superiority, but rather, for their supposed inferiority, which his emotionally and empathetically narrow mind perceives them to have; to the young so-called genius, his occasional desire to be like the ‘ordinary’ people around him is little more than a wish that he could sometimes turn his ‘logic’ off — to become simple and ‘naive’ enough to be unaware of what he thinks are the true ways of the world, or at least just be ‘foolish’ enough to see it and still be able to ‘delude’ himself into denying it anyway.

Assuredly, I can grant that the suicidal teen may dislike or even resent his own nature, but once more, it is not because he believes there is something wrong with him mentally, half so much as that he believes he is much too smart for his own good; thus, I hardly think it appropriate to say that his laughter is in intentional mockery of that or of himself, when I find it far more easy to believe that he is amused by and making mockery of the “lower intelligence” of others and their compassionate, ‘uninformed’, emotionally-driven outlooks.

Of course, if this conclusion of mine is indeed right, then we would naturally have a much better explanation for why this moment was omitted in the anime. I know that some people might think that it is very logical to presume that they simply cut whatever they could for time, and that this part was just one of those things that could be easily and fairly harmlessly expended, rather than to take the less charitable stance in saying that this was a calculated move of some kind; however, when you truly give any degree of genuine thought to it, you must admit that it is a little absurd to suggest the studio decided that these few potential seconds of additional dialogue were “taking up too much time”, especially when you consider that they were just fine with wasting much, much longer on credit sequences and extended events that did not even happen as presented in the original story on other occasions.

Furthermore, while no one is denying that the moments leading up to this removed final exchange aren’t exactly the best at providing pleasant representation for Dazai, there is still no ignoring the fact that without this last piece being kept in, it is nonetheless infinitely better for a more SKK compliant, ‘kinder Dazai’ narrative than it would be with it still maintained, as it not only makes Dazai look slightly nicer, but especially lends much more of a sense that Chuuya’s words had a profound effect on him than they actually did. As for what they gain in pushing this untrue portrayal I continue to allude to so often, and what reason I have to believe they’re actually doing that, well, that’s something I’ll get into much more later, but I imagine it isn’t so hard to at least partially figure out on your own anyway, in the meantime — even if you don’t truly know the full extent of the butchery they’ve committed to achieve it.

Temporarily setting aside this treachery and mutilation, though, even if this one choice hadn’t been a part of some much bigger picture, I would still be just as disappointed in their decision, as I feel it heavily tones down the full extent of the scene’s eeriness and loses the true sense of the two teens’ personalities, thoughts, and relationship with each other.

It is, true, too, I have no doubt, that the earlier addition of Dazai’s “what you say is probably correct” to the conversation, after twice confirming that Chuuya was right with his assessment, was included in order to mirror a certain scene in DEAD APPLE, but I don’t really have much to give of my own, commentary-wise, on it, since unlike the other alteration, its existence does not change all that much, and as a result, I neither hate nor adore it; it simply exists, and that is fine.

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veryvincible · 4 years ago

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Ive seen a few blogs talking about Tony Stark with OCD and I was wondering what your thoughts on it were? I know it's not canon but would it be an okay headcanon?

Oh, goodness. This is a doozy.

First of all, I do want to give the obligatory "any headcanon is okay" when it comes to stuff like this, because some people do pick up comfort characters that aren't exactly like them and then use headcanons to push their characterization around until they become a more efficient catharsis vessel, and there's really nothing wrong with that in a space where characters are pushed around all the time anyway. Your headcanons are yours, and you interact with media how it best suits you. Just don't go talking like this is The Way The Character Absolutely Definitely Is, because not only is that misleading, but also it's kind of stepping on other people who need different headcanons for other reasons.

Now that that's out of the way.

You've come to the right place! I have actually been diagnosed with OCD and have been dealing with it now for a long, long while; funnily enough, the OCD is what led me to worry about the OCD, which is what led me to research the OCD in-depth for many, many years. Not to brag or anything. B) Like, literally not to brag, because it's a mental illness. Anyway, jokes aside.

I'm going to go by the DSM-5 and personal experience with the diagnostic process for now. I know some people have their gripes with the DSM, but it's what we're going with.

Before that, though, I do want to lay some things down here. Though it's not outlined by the DSM exactly, it's common among mental health professionals and people with OCD to categorize different symptoms based on causes of OCD. Because OCD is inherently ego-dystonic, your intrusive thoughts are going to attack whatever it is you care about most-- people with primarily contaminant symptoms might fear illness, people with primarily aggressive symptoms might fear hurting others, etc. There's no standard for what these categories are, really. Different places teach different things, and some people disregard them entirely. But it's good to know they're out there, some examples being contaminant and aggressive OCD as mentioned before, as well as pathologic doubt/completeness, religion, self-control, and superstition. There are more, less, or different categories depending on where you look, so we can just leave that there.

Now, onto the actual diagnostic criteria.

In order to be diagnosed with OCD, you need the presence of obsessions OR compulsions, OR both. So, you kind of don't need the whole set to have OCD, though it's argued that some people view "primarily obsessive" and "primarily compulsive" types of OCD as... plain old OCD. "Pure O OCD" especially has been criticized, as its based entirely on the concept of compulsions being in one's head as opposed to external, which then raises the question of whether or not we're defining mental illness by the sufferers or the observers. Regardless, this is what the current DSM says: obsessions, compulsions, or both.

They must be time-consuming (>1hr/day), cause clinically significant distress, or cause impairment in social, occupational, or other areas of functioning. So, could you be considered OCD if you're perfectly functional to the outside world but dysfunctional psychologically? Yes! Could you be considered OCD if you're mostly okay with the compulsions (often seen in people who believe their compulsions are rational responses to rational fears), but you can't function in day-to-day life? Yes! OCD is defined by how it affects you, and there are so, so many ways that it can do that.

The symptoms of OCD can't be caused by physiological effects of substance abuse or other medical conditions.

The disturbance cannot be better explained by the symptoms of another disorder (i.e. if excessive worries are better explained by an anxiety disorder, you're more likely to be diagnosed with something along the lines of GAD; if your difficulty discarding possessions is more in line with a hoarding disorders, you're more likely to be diagnosed with a hoarding disorder). One thing I would like to mention here is that this is often where the DSM breaks down when it comes to practice rather than theory. I'd like to specifically outline the example under this segment of the DSM that refers to "guilty ruminations, as in major depressive disorder". By these guidelines, would you be able to have both MDD and OCD if your OCD has mostly intrusive symptoms?

Well, yes, actually. There's a lot of discourse surrounding it, but here's the thing. Diagnosis is something meant to put you into a category so you can either seek treatment or get accommodations. For mental illnesses, physical illnesses... anything. This is it. I myself have both MDD and OCD, and part of why this is, is because there's an overlap between symptoms... but that's all it is. An overlap, borderlining comorbidity. And there are plenty of people who have similar diagnoses.

You'll see why I'm bringing this up in a second.

Let's go back to the diagnostic criteria and take it one-by-one.

Obsessions are defined by (1) and (2):

Recurrent and persistent thoughts, urges, or images that are experienced, at some time during the disturbance, as intrusive and unwanted, and that in most individuals cause marked anxiety or distress. The individual attempts to ignore or suppress such thoughts, urges, or images, or to neutralize hem with some other thought or action (i.e., by performing a compulsion).

Does Tony experience obsessions? Well, he very well could.

There used to be a criterion in the now-outdated DSM-IV that outlined obsessions could NOT be "simply excessive worries about real-life problems." But in the DSM-5, this was dropped. So, an obsession, by current standards, most certainly can be defined as an excessive worry about real-life problems.

Whether or not Tony's worry is excessive is debatable. We're all aware of Clint's sentiment in New Avengers that basically boils the team's state of being down to "we're extraordinary people, so we have extraordinary problems." Tony's worries are extraordinary, but... are they excessive?

I could go either way on this argument. Due to Tony's massive influence and his feelings of responsibility, we can all see why these worries might be considered realistic and average. But it's those feelings of responsibility that would make a better argument for "excessiveness"; he has taken the stance quite a few times that he's been "the only one who could see what needed to be done", or something akin to that, at least. It's not just that he has serious problems and he's concerned about serious solutions. It's that he feels such a sense of responsibility and guilt that every single problem on the planet happens to be a problem he's obligated to consider by his own standards, and if he doesn't consider those problems, he's an awful garbage man. Again, by his own standards.

One could also easily argue that he could fall prey to both aggressive-type obsessions and pathologic doubt-type obsessions, given that he's terrified of hurting people or causing harm unknowingly and that he's never 100% sure of himself, always "almost certain", and often looking to others (like Happy in Civil War, for example) to vent and try to half-validate himself as someone who really is doing the right thing.

These very obviously cause him distress, and one could argue that his Atlas-like anxiety with regards to keeping the world afloat is a huge factor in his mental cycle of thinking he's not doing enough, which means he's not enough, which means he deserves to die, which means he actually should die if he's not doing anything right, which means he has to try really, really hard to do things right, but he'll never do everything he needs to do, so he's not doing enough, so he's not enough, so he deserves to die.

And the alcoholism could easily come into play here, being a default coping mechanism for almost anything he'd encountered, obsessive or otherwise.

Now for compulsions.

Compulsions are defined by (1) and (2):

Repetitive behaviors (e.g., hand washing, ordering, checking) or mental acts (e.g., praying, counting, repeating words silently) that the individual feels driven to perform in response to an obsession or according to rules that must be applied rigidly. The behaviors or mental acts are aimed at preventing or reducing anxiety or distress, or preventing some dreaded event or situation; however, these behaviors or mental acts are not connected in a realistic way with what they are designed to neutralize or prevent, or are clearly excessive.

So, we're going back to the obsessions outlined earlier. One thing I neglected to mention there was what he's referred to as one of his biggest fears, and I neglected to mention it because of how it ties into potential compulsions.

He's mentioned that someone "taking over his brain" is possibly the worst thing that could happen to him, given that he is a man with incredible influence and incredible intelligence and if his mind falls into the wrong hands, it could have (and has had) disastrous consequences. We see a lot of Tony trying to protect his mind as a result, always having backups, always having alternatives, always having contingency plans. This could also be considered a response to an obsession with regards to “mental contamination”, which makes sense.

It's similar with the responsibility-induced anxiety; he made how many AIs, now? He quite literally can't let himself die. He needs to be up, awake, present, alive. He needs to continue doing The Right Thing. We see the same sorts of behaviors even when he's alive and kicking-- he's often in his lab into the late hours of the night. He canonically works multiple jobs at his company. He runs around holding babies around the world, for God's sake. He believes everything deserves to be cared for, loved, and he believes he has to be the one to love it, and so he does, taking up so much of his time and so much of his energy every single day in a desperate attempt to make sure he's done all he can.

This is a man whose every day life could be considered scheduled compulsions if you really wanted it to be, one after the other, in a never-ending cycle of behaviors that he canonically won't ever be satisfied with.

Tony certainly could have obsessions. He certainly could have compulsions. He certainly could have OCD.

It's worth it to mention that self-blame, even for the smallest little details, is extremely common in people with OCD, and... That's also a very Tony thing, isn't it?

All that to say...

Do I think he does?

Well, not... really. I mean, I don't very, very strongly believe that he doesn't. And a lot of neurodivergent people have created incredibly thorough explanations as to why a character not intended to be one way might still be that way-- not even as a headcanon, but quite literally, they just are that way. This is especially common among characters coded (intentionally or otherwise) to have things like autism and ADHD. Whether or not a character "has" something is difficult to decipher, but if you can outline all the symptoms and you can't come up with any other explanation for them, then, well... You've got a neurodivergent character on your hands.

But that's the thing. You certainly can explain Tony's feelings and decisions with a diagnosis of MDD and alcohol abuse. You can. Plenty of people don't really want to, especially with some more toxic beliefs in the mental health community that regard less stigmatized illnesses as somehow also less severe or less validating, and regards MDD as "just depression" in a way that more stigmatized illnesses aren't.

I don't feel terribly represented in Tony as someone with OCD-- I feel represented with almost every aspect of his struggles with mental health, but I rarely ever read through comics going, "there! There's my OCD thing!" Which isn't to say that it's never happened on a subconscious level, because... I mean, illness bleeds into every aspect of you. It's terribly difficult to find where one part of you ends and the other begins when there's so much overlap. But personally, Tony having OCD isn’t something that I really consider when I read or write (which is part of why I like having Ty Stone around so much-- I can pin a bunch of shit on him that I think Tony doesn’t have, and then I get to write everything I want while still keeping things true to the way I see them).

There are other sufferers of OCD who must certainly relate to Tony, and probably exclusively go "There's my OCD thing!" while reading his comics. I can see why.

So, again.

Do I think he has OCD? Eh. Not really my thing. But I think canon does what canon does, mental illnesses have plenty of overlap, and he meets the criteria enough that if you were to say he had both MDD and OCD, I wouldn't feel any reason to argue, especially if you’re saying it to better relate to him.

#cassks #suicide tw #sort of #ocd #is there a tag that means 'this talks about ocd but in a way that might trigger ocd'#because if there is. please tell me #i have thought many times that it would be cool to have a tag like this at some point #i'm very tired if there are any tags you want here just let me know

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otpnessmess · 5 years ago

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For you, there’s nothing I wouldn't do

Here it is finally! The first part of the Jasonette fake dating AU I had promised. I’m working on the following parts already as I will have a couple of weeks with a lot of free time. I’m so sorry for disappearing. Enjoy!

Ao3 - Masterlist

“You’ve officially lost your mind, Jay, I swear to God.”

When Marinette had agreed to get up early on a Sunday morning because Jason had asked her to hang out, she didn’t think she’d regret it five seconds into meeting her best friend at their favorite restaurant. And she hadn’t yet, but it was very close.

“Nette, please, I’m begging you right now. Do you want me to kneel and plead? Because I will, don’t try me.” His blue eyes had always been her weakness and the puppy face he was making at her right now almost made her agree on the spot to whatever insane plan he had come up with. The keyword being almost.

“Alright, let me just reiterate to make sure I’m understanding. Your father is hosting a gala in a month and you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?” Marinette tried to keep her face as straight and serious as possible but it was proving hard since the words she had just said sounded utterly ridiculous.

“Pretty much, yeah. So, will you? I swear I’ll pay you if I have to, I just need you to help me out with this.” He had started to look hopeful since she had yet to outright deny him his request. “You know I love you Bug, and you’re the only one I can trust with something like this.”

Damn, he was good at telling her exactly what she liked to hear, and Mari was just not strong enough to say no to him, though she did plan to at least make him sweat a bit more for it. “Oh really? And what if I asked you for, I don’t know, a new car?”

Her forced attempt at being difficult hadn’t flown under Jason’s radar as he seemed to pick up on it and smirked. “We both know you would never ask for that since you refuse to let me pay for anything every time we go out, but if you did ask for that, know that I’m ready to do whatever you wish me to do. Do you maybe want an apartment? You did mention wanting to stop paying rent… ”

Despite the teasing tone in his voice paired with the sly smirk on his face Marinette knew he was dead serious which, even if it flattered her that her friend would even think about doing such a thing for her, made her backtrack on being difficult immediately.

“No! Argh, you’re impossible. Fine, I’ll follow along to whatever your brilliant plan is, but don’t you dare buy me an apartment, you crazy knobhead.” The look she shot at him tried to be venomous but seemed to be ineffective when the brightest grin took over Jason’s face as he moved to sit by her side to squish the living daylights out of the tiny woman.

“I swear I don’t know what I did to deserve you Nette, I love you.”

That earned him a playful smack on the arm as Marinette gave in and chuckled at his antics. “I love you too, you goofball. Now, get off of me and finish your breakfast.”

The man sat across her once again looking like the cat that got the canary, Cheshire grin in place. “You’re the best."

She pretended not to notice the way her heart paused for a beat when she saw the way Jason was looking at her, with caring eyes as if she was incredibly precious. Instead, the woman hid her face behind her mug of coffee.

"W-why do you need me to do this anyway? What do you need a fake girlfriend for?”

Jason’s demeanor instantly changed, his shoulders squared up and he frowned. “The annual gala my father holds for the company’s investors and partners is always full of old men who are full of themselves-”

“Doesn’t that remind me of someone?”

“Oh shut up, I at least have a good reason for it. They’re nothing more than a bunch of old hags who like to brag 24/7, and since this gala is in their "honor” they can bring guests with them. If I have to go by another year hearing them pitch their daughters and grand-daughters to me hoping I’ll date one of them, I’ll simply kill one of them. Some of the girls over the years have been nice but for every decent one you can actually talk to, you have at least 9 others doing the most ridiculous things to try and get your attention. I assume it’s what they are asked to do but I swear… And everyone else gets out of it too. Dick is already married to Kor'i, Tim is forever married to his job and Damian is not old enough for most of them. So that leaves me, the handsome Jason Todd, to carry the family’s weight on my shoulders.“

She snorted at the theatrical sigh he let out before laying his head on the table, immediately regretting it as he looked up at her with a glint in his eyes. "That’s where you, my dear Miss Dupain-Cheng come in. If I have a girlfriend, those girls will have to effectively back off of me as well, and I won’t have to restrain myself from being incredibly rude to them.”

“As if you could actually restrain yourself from being rude.”

Whether he didn’t hear her or just decided to ignore her comment Mari didn’t know, but once the monologue had been delivered, he leaned back on his seat with his signature smirk. “I’m a genius, I know.”

It took a whole lot from Marinette not to smack her dumbass of a friend again, but even she had to admit no one deserved to have their space invaded as she knew Jason had had in some of the other events his father organized, and if he was being truthful with her, then this gala was shaping to be even worse in that regard. If she could help her friend it would be enough for her, but in doing this she would also have an opportunity to design a gown to wear and hopefully get some people interested in her designs. Maybe she didn’t regret agreeing to this that much anymore.

“You’re one hell of a crazy person, Jay. You’re lucky you’re my best friend.” She rolled her eyes and nudged his leg with hers under the table with a smile. “We’ll have to do some planning this month and you better be ready. I’m not meeting your family for the first time as your fake girlfriend without running through each and every way this could catastrophically end.”

His shoulders relaxed as he nudged her leg back, relief flooding his face seeing her so committed. “Don’t worry Bug, they will love you, and I’ll explain everything to them after this is over, but if they are in on it from the start I just know one of my brothers will screw it up. I think we can pull it off though, and you know I’m always up for a challenge.”

The already familiar confidence rush that ran through Marinette whenever Jason reassured her that everything would be fine made an appearance once more, and at that moment she completely trusted themselves to be able to make do with this crazy-ass plan. After all, Jay was stubborn and always ready to jump in head-first into the weirdest situations.

Newsflash. This time he wasn’t.

Jason had known it was risky to ask his best friend to play pretend so he could get rid of the sticky girls from the gala.

Not because he thought she would refuse, but because of his own feelings.

Truth is, he was in love with Marinette and had been ever since five months into their friendship they encountered two thugs trying to rob a teenager on their way to school. Jason had put one of them down but, before he could go for the second one, Marinette already had knocked him out.

Her breathing was just a bit labored from throwing the man over her shoulder and one of her pigtails had come off from where the robber had grabbed it, but then she turned to wink at him with a smile before going to see if the teen was alright. Red Hood could only feel the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

Knowing Marinette was potentially able to kick his ass at any given moment had made him feel all kinds of things, and he was already a goner by the time she was back by his side.

That same night, and back in his bed, Jason was mulling over the earlier events. Read: thinking about Marinette. He had never felt so flustered around the tiny woman and it had proven to be a hard task to get her out of his head even when she had left for her own house several hours ago.

One thing led to another and soon he found himself reminiscing about the past months spent in Marinette’s company. How she always seemed to brighten up any room she walked into, making him feel like he should look away but being unable to. Her caring nature taking over whenever someone in need of help was in the vicinity, the tenderness with which she treated people’s injuries, be it physical or emotional.

Jason remembered the first time he had been at the receiving end of it. It had been the time when his identity as Red Hood was also revealed to her.

In his defense, he hadn’t expected Marinette to arrive early to his flat for their movie night only to find him trying to get the cuts all over his abdomen and arms to stop bleeding. Time seemed to freeze as they stared at each other, one sitting on a barstool at the kitchen isle, the other standing at the door with a bag of snacks in her arms. Marinette, being the quick-witted and resourceful person she was, recovered astoundingly quickly from her stupor and started chastising him while tending to the cuts herself while he could only look at her in awe.

Later, when he explained where he got injured, she didn’t seem fazed by discovering his identity. If anything she seemed…smug?

“What’s with that face? I expected more of a reaction:”

Her smile only grew at that as she put on the last bandage around his arm. “I’m glad you finally told me, but I kind of…already knew? I mean, I had my suspicions. You two had roughly the same measurements as far as I could tell, you also happened to go MIA whenever there was an emergency a time too many for it to feel like a coincidence. Also the little stunt you pulled the other day talking to me in the mask? You should’ve at least tried to fake your voice or something.” Once she was done she patted his head with a wink and left him to process everything while she prepared the popcorn.

That wink had been so cheeky it left him swooning, heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Wait. That had felt familiar.

Oh.

Jason was brought back to the present with such force he thought someone had slapped him. Laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling at 3 am he couldn’t tiptoe around the issue anymore. He wondered how he hadn’t reached this conclusion much earlier.

He was in love with Marinette.

He was in love with his best friend.

Dear God, he was so fucked.

That had been the moment he accepted he was so utterly in love with Marinette, and even though Jason had hoped that what he thought was a very one-sided love would subside eventually, with each passing day where he got to know her better and better he only fell harder for her.

Why was he even thinking about all of this? Oh right. He had asked Mari to play pretend as his girlfriend that same afternoon.

What could possibly go wrong?

Marinette had taken it upon her to have their lie be as believable as possible, which meant she wanted them to at least plan out what they’d do if certain situations arose while they were navigating the gala. What this meant was that the following month they had spent a whole lot of time together, maybe too much for Jason’s sanity to remain as stable as it could.

Even if he was used to meeting her at least twice a week and spending their weekly movie night together, Mari practically lived in his apartment now. And he wasn’t complaining at all, but by the gods, if it wasn’t so damn distracting to have her around. She would often keep him company while asking questions about the people who would attend the gala, working on her dress for it, or simply walking around the house jokingly complaining about how Jason tasteless choice of furniture and decorations made the living room look like a yard sale.

Oh, and there was also all the teasing. There had been a consistent amount of it between them before, but now it had turned into a constant stream of cheeky comments, smirk exchanges and usually a smack or two from Mari.

All in all, Jason had lived through both the most blissful yet most frustrating month of his life and the worst of it had yet to arrive, though time did pass by way faster than he would’ve hoped for.

And just like that, the big night was upon them.

And that’s it! Hope you liked this little thing and look forward to the next parts! Thank you a lot for reading <3

Tag List

@vixen-uchiha @18-fandoms-unite-08 @tbehartoo @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @queenmj10 @mochegato

#jasonette #jason x marinette #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug #ml x dc #liswrites #for you theres nothing i wouldnt do #pt 1 #maribat

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kaleidescope-writes · 5 years ago

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Heart of Audrilluria- Chapter IV; Tipsy Intel

Modern Fairytale AU

Prince!Tom Hiddleston x Theif!Reader

A few sun rays peaked through the curtains made of expensive materials. The room was lit in a soft orange glow. There was a moment of peaceful silence in the room, only partly filled by the distant chirping of birds. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, taking in the bronze designs that littered the cream ceiling of the fairytale room she found herself in. It was peaceful.

Peaceful until the high pitched ringing of the vintage telephone filled the air. She groans, turning to her left and reaching for the phone. “Hello,” her voice groggy. “Good Morning sunshine,” Edmundo greeted with a voice too cheerful for this early in the morning. “I hope you are well rested. For today, you have breakfast at the castle with the royals and nobility. After that, you have five hours of recreational time before you have to get ready for the Welcoming Ball. I’ll have both of your dresses in your room and a hair and makeup team ready for your return later this afternoon.”

Y/N sat up against the bed frame, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “Do we have a say in what we wear?” she asked, hoping there would be an option. “Sadly, all your ball-wear has been pre-picked in order for you to fit in at the events.” She sighed, “What time does the breakfast start?” “In an hour,” came the response, “You have thirty minutes to get ready, no more. I’ll see you then.” with that, he hung up. Y/N took in the room from this new angle, appreciating all its fascinating details. Unfortunately, she had to cut her admiration of the room short and get up to start yet another day in the modern fairytale island.

She jumped off the bed, going towards her suitcase to pick out an outfit for the day. Placing it on the bed, she opened it and began to look over her options. After a few minutes of deliberation, she settled on a black, fitted blazer with a sky blue blouse and navy leggings. Tying her hair up in a bun she left a loose strand on either side of her face. Something simple yet classy for the first breakfast meeting.

“Good Morning, sunshine!” Amelie greeted as she entered the room. Already dressed and ready, she looked to the vanity her sister was using to get ready. Leaning against the door-frame, she smirked at her sister in a teasing manner. “You too?” Y/N, questioned with a small groan. Amelie chuckled, “I know you��ve never been a morning person, but we can’t be late! So hurry it up!” With that, she stood up straight and left the room as suddenly as she entered.”Y/N sighs deeply, the dread of starting the day this early consuming her thoughts once more. No she’s not a morning person, but whatever was left of the jet lag she felt made it worse.

Y/N looked in the mirror one last time, before deciding she was satisfied with her look. Putting back the contents of her suitcase, she grabbed some essentials; her minaudiere, phone, wallet with the information of her alias, earphones, external charger and wire, and a digital voice recorder with discrete microphone. She put the items in her purse and headed to the main room. Amelie looked up from her seat as Y/N entered the room in a confident stride. “Let’s do this.”

~~~~~

Thomas looked over his appearance once more in the mirror. Satisfied with his look, he turned and made his way towards the door. Turning the doorknob and opening it slightly, he prepared to walk out into the hall, only to be stopped mid step by a familiar face preparing to knock on his door.

He took a moment to process the situation before speaking, “You’re not the person that normally bothers me this early.” Augustus lowers his hand down slowly, an expression of confusion gracing his features. “I suppose I’m not?” Thomas smiled at his old friend and chuckled internally at his confusion. “ Well I guess I should explain myself,” Augustus started, “ I’m here to say good morning. So good morning. And to ask you for advice.” Thomas changed his position, stepping out to the side and closing his door as he listened to Augustus talk. “It seems a bit early to have messed up enough to ask me of all people for advice,” Thomas teased, “And if we must do this, we have to walk towards the breakfast hall.”

Augustus began walking down the hall with Thomas by his side. “It’s not that I made a mistake recently. It’s advice to avoid future mistakes.” Thomas chuckled, shaking his head, “Once again, I wonder what compels you to ask the king-to-be for help.” Augustus turned to his cousin, rubbing his neck with his left hand while continuing to walk. “Your advice hasn’t led me wrong yet,” Augustus said, “And besides, it was you or the person this concerns.”

Thomas’s steps faltered slightly, realizing what type of advice Augustus was going to ask for. Dawning a teasing smirk, Thomas turned to his friend, “OH, so you are finally going to assert your feelings for a certain relative of mine?” Augustus stopped walking suddenly. He knew? Of course he knew, it was obvious. Especially for someone as intuitive as Thomas Hiddleston. Thomas stopped walking as well, turning to look at him expectantly with the same teasing expression on his face. Breaking the silence between them, Augustus cleared his throat. “So you know?” he asked shakily, slowly continuing his stride down the long hallway.

He knew the answer long before he asked. Still, a small, simple-minded part of him wanted to confirm the obvious. “Of course I do!” Thomas asserted, genuinely smiling, “I’ve known you for as long as I can walk. I’ve known for a while. I figured you liked him since secondary school.” Augustus smiled sheepishly as both men continued down the hall at a slower pace. “I suppose we can skip over the awkward confession and hope you won’t want to kill me for it, then,” He laughed cautiously, “I’ll get right to it. How would-- or rather, should-- I go about asking him if he feels the same?” Thomas’s face shifted to a grave expression, “You have to fight another potential partner to death in the dungeon deep beneath the castle in order to prove your worth for courtship.”

Augustus looked to his best friend worriedly for a moment before catching on to his joke. “Why do I bother with you sometimes?” He asked, letting out an oddly anxious breath. Thomas cracked a smile, putting his arm around Augustus's shoulder. “All jokes aside, I’ll help you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The breakfast gathering consisted mostly of nobles discussing diplomatic actions they’ve taken in recent times and how that has improved their country’s politics. Every once in a while, the attention of the crowd was diverted to the prince and other members of the royal council, but the nobles would go back to mingling with each other as soon as they’d said their peace. Y/N and Amelie juggled between answering the questions of the ever interested nobles--using the false and true information they were given respectively--and asking for information themselves. All the while, the recorder in the minaudiere stored every word spoken to use later when they put their intel together.

For the most part, every person in attendance would evenly distribute their attention, but there were some--namely Charles and Augustus--that would notice Thomas sneaking looks at a certain daughter of the Spanish Marquess.

The breakfast ended and the guests continued to mingle in the castle grounds. Y/N and Amelie seemingly attracted as much attention as the prince himself. Despite this, however, they had little conversation with his highness--mainly due to Y/N’s subtle refusal to do so. Having little direct contact with him decreased the chance of being found out, she reasoned.

Meanwhile, Augustus tried to work his way into a confession using Thomas’s advice. Approaching Charles with new found confidence, he inserted himself into the present conversation. “I believe I speak for all of us when I say that our job is never easy, but it is truly an honor to be in our positions,” Augustus commented, standing right next to Charles. Charles turned to look at him with playful confusion, “I wouldn’t expect that from the man who does little more than smile and pose for the press.” The group of nobles laughed while Augustus sheepishly rocked on his feet. “To be fair,” a Count interjected, “He has a pretty face.” The group laughed some more. “In fact I wouldn’t mind welcoming him into my family,” he continued, “If only I had a daughter amongst my three sons to present to you.” Augustus shifted his feet slightly. “These are progressive times. Does it matter whether or not a nobleman marries someone of the opposite gender?” He asked, looking at each noble hopefully while keeping Charles in his peripheral vision. Another noble scoffed, “It’s a policy as old as time. Noblemen should marry noblewomen. It’s tradition! We can’t throw it away simply because changes around us occur. Our stability would be thrown out the door.” The others nodded in agreement, some whispering a confirmation of their standing. Augustus turned to look at Charles, a small hint of hope still remaining in his eyes. “When you put it like that, I can’t argue with you,”Charles said simply.

Augustus felt his stomach drop to his knees. He nearly lost his footing as the ground beneath him felt like it shook. Keeping a soft, counterfeit smile, he fixed his foot-stance and looked down momentarily. All he wanted at that moment was for the earth to swallow him whole.

It was time for everyone to go their own way and prepare for the ball. Y/N had mixed emotions, but it was part of the job. The upside to this was that the ball was the perfect opportunity for the false-bond to be formed. Finding the ‘fall-guy’ would be the most crucial part of the night. They had their plan, now they had to put it into motion.

~~~~~~~~~~

The ballroom was absolutely marvelous. The ornate walls were lit brightly, making every golden glow, spreading an indescribable feeling to every inhabitant of the room. Once more, the sisters were reminded of a fairytale. Their feeling was stronger this time, considering their expensive gowns. Both gowns were elegantly decorated and made them look like true royalty--or so Edmundo said. They fit in perfectly with the crowd of expensive formal wear and jewelry fit for, well, royalty. Soft, classical music filled the ambiance, making everything seem like a pleasant dream. It was magical. But there was work to be done.

“We have to focus. Let’s get over the glitz and glamour and get to work. This is an important night,” Y/N commanded, pulling her sister to a small, isolated corner of the room. Amelie snapped out of her awe and became focused on the objective at hand. “Ok, we’ve talked to every noble at breakfast, but none of them seem like a good ‘fall-guy’, Any ideas on how we proceed?” Amelie asserted, “Any ideas on how we proceed?” Y/N looked around the room, scanning the face of every noble and connecting it to a name. “Every noble we’ve spoken to knows very little that can help us. The only thing we can do is get close to someone in the royal council, but that’s too risky. We have to find someone close enough to the crown for information but not close enough to be a risk,” Y/N recounted.

“Let’s split up,”Amelie suggested, “It’ll be easier to find someone matching that description that way.” Y/N turned to her sister, a confident smile gracing her features. “Report back with each other at the end of the night. No leading anyone on.” she declared. Turning on her heel, she was preparing to take a step away from Amelie before she heard “And don’t get attached.” Y/N smiled, walking away as she spoke in a confident tone, “I never do.”

Picking a spot in the room in which everyone was easily visible, Y/N began her search. Looking for someone that matched what she was looking for would be challenging, but in order to proceed with the plan, she had to find the perfect mark. Looking around the room full of mingling nobles, Y/N tried to find someone suitable to form the false bond with. Every duke, earl, duchess, baron, and viscount she saw had already been deemed inadequate for the job. This was going to be difficult. She was close to giving up her search in the main room and move on to the balcony area. Her search stopped when her eyes came to look upon a familiar face, one she’d recognize from their welcoming arrival. He was helplessly leaning against the bar area, already drowning himself with his choice of poison. Y/N’s face lit up, realizing this was her ticket to get close to the target. She began her stride towards the man, meticulously planning her approach as she made her way through the well-dressed crowd.

~~~~~

The party was in full swing. Everyone in the room seemed to be enjoying the moment. All except one. Augustus looked aimlessly around the room, subconsciously searching for the one person that could make everything feel better. He didn’t notice when Thomas walked up to him until his solemn silence was broken by his best friend’s voice; “What happened? I expected you to be happily dancing around the room by now?” Augustus sighed, still looking out to the harsh critiques that discouraged him, “I didn’t even try. It’s hard to confess when you’re surrounded by nobles who all agree that a policy as old as time shouldn't be broken, even for love.” Thomas put his hand on Augustus’s shoulder, a look of sympathy etched into his features. “I’m sorry Gus. I--” “Please, spare me your pity,” Augustus interrupted, “I don’t need that from you.” Thomas nodded, standing in front of him and placing both hands on his shoulders to provide a distraction from the people that wounded him. “Tell me what you need and I will gladly comply.” he proposed. Augustus removed both of Thomas’s hands from his shoulders, eyes fixing on the bar across the room. “I need a drink. Don’t worry about me, worry about the party. All these people are here for you.” With that, he made his way to the bar, ready to drown out his sorrows with a bottle.

As soon as he reached the bar, he asked for his favorite drink, hoping it would help him feel better even slightly. The bartender handed him the drink and his mind began to race.

Leaning against the bar, he drank his whiskey on the rocks. Reflecting on what happened earlier that day, he kept his head down and focused on nothing but his glass every time he put it down after taking a sip. Things could’ve gone better, but of course, they didn’t. How did he think it was going to go? It was destined to end in disaster, why was he hopeful? Traditions can’t be broken, especially not when defended by old, close minded men. It was hopeless. He sighed heavily, downing the rest of his drink. Before he was able to ask for another, he noticed someone approach him on his left side.

“Getting a head start?” a female voice asked. Augustus rolled his eyes, putting his glass aside. “Don’t. I’m not the type of person you think I am,” he said, already rejecting whatever intentions she had. Y/N shifted in her seat slightly, “I didn’t say you were. I’m not here to try and start something with you.” To this he sighed finally turning to face her; “Then why are you here?” “I know this might sound cliche, but I know the look of a broken heart. You don’t need a drink, you need someone who’ll listen,” she said, “That, and I’ve pretty much met everyone else here and none of them are interesting enough to be around for longer than a few minutes.”

Augustus chuckled, turning in his seat to face her and leaned his head in his hand. “You think you’re the friend I need?” Y/N scoffed playfully, “Look, it’s either me, someone too busy to deal with your problems, or a bunch of old-fashioned nobles that love to brag about how great of a job they’re doing.” Augustus laughed, preparing to argue with her before he realized she was right. “So, who was the asshole that broke your heart?” she asked, ordering a drink for herself as well as a refill of his. “It wasn’t an asshole, it was a situation,” he clarified, “I could never call him an asshole.” Y/N takes a sip, raising her eyebrow and nodding slightly, “So I was right. This is about a broken heart.”

Augustus sighed, looking down at his feet as he nodded. “Yes, I suffer from a broken heart. He wasn’t the only cause.The other noblemen started the conversation. He just gave the final blow.” Putting her glass down, Y/N looked attentively at the sorrowful man in front of her. She took his left hand in hers, softly keeping it near him in case he wanted to pull away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think those uninteresting individuals were capable of saying something that didn’t make them seem self-righteous.” Augustus huffed, not removing his hand from her hold, “Yes, well, you never really know until something brings it up.” For a moment, both of them sat in a comfortable silence. Thinking about what to do next, Y/N downed the rest of her drink and looked briefly out into the ballroom.

“I know how to help you forget about this for a while,” she said, finally breaking the silence. Augustus looked up at her expectantly, silently hoping it would help. Y/N stood up, bringing Augustus with her. “It’s a party. People are dancing and having the time of their lives. Let’s join them.” Augustus tried to sit back down shaking his head as he pulled his hand away slightly, “No, no. I’m a terrible dancer.” Y/N smiled, laughing lightly at him, “So am I! C’mon, it’ll be fun.” Augustus didn’t budge, she had to try harder to get him to agree. “Forget about your broken heart just for tonight. Let’s show your lost love what he’s missing out on. No judgement.” Augustus smiled up at her. Unable to refuse any longer, he gave in and let her drag him to the dance floor. This was going to be one hell of a night.

~~~~~

“Where’s your head, Thomas?” Charles asked, turning away from the foreign duke he was talking to earlier. Thomas had his eyes fixed on the owner of a sky blue dress with golden adornments littering the fabric. “Among the crowd,” he replied. He didn’t turn away from the woman dancing near his best friend. He couldn’t look away. She was beautiful and seeing her dance around made her care-free spirit light up the room. Y/N was all he could see.

Charles followed his line of sight, only to be met with the pair. He knew Thomas was looking at her, it was obvious. The way his feet were pointed in her direction. The way he leaned towards her slightly when it looked as if she was going to slip. Every part of him was there with her. It made Charles chuckle, finally earning the attention of Thomas. “What is it?” Thomas inquired confused as to why he found it humorous.

Charles looked directly into his eyes, smiling from ear to ear. “You, my friend, are absolutely smitten!”

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

A/N: FINALLY!!! To make up for lost time, I will post one chapter everyday starting with this one. Thank you guys so much for your patience! I’ll try to do a better job to get on top of things! Thanks Again, I love you all and I hope all is well in these trying times. What do you guys think about the dress? As always, feel free to give me feedback, like, I seriously want to know what you think!! Let me know if I missed anyone in the taglist and I’ll see you tomorrow with chapter 5!!

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jarienn972 · 5 years ago

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A Simple Spell - Chapter Fourteen

A Captain Swan Supernatural Summer Tale

For weeks, I was feeling as though this story would never come together. Amidst all of the chaos, I finally found the words again and with a few tweaks from my original plan, my @cssns 2019 story is at last complete! I really want to thank everyone for all of the encouragement and wonderful comments along the way. I have to extend many thanks to @lassluna for her beta assistance. Sorry this ended up taking so much longer than planned, but man, the real world can certainly be stranger than fiction! Thank you @cocohook38 for the incredible banner you created for this story. I plan to print it out and hang it on my wall now that this is all completed! And thank you @kmomof4 for being such a great cheerleader as I muddled my way through my first AU. I’m definitely looking forward to working with you on this year’s story!

When we left off, Emma had kissed Killian awake (although she doesn't know it yet) before being whisked off to a rooftop to battle Walsh. Now, having defeated him, she's still left with a ton of questions - and some of the answers just might be more than she imagined.

To get caught up from the beginning, you can find the entire story on AO3 or FF.net. Here are the previous chapters on Tumblr: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen

She should have registered some reaction as the ominous clouds drifted apart, but assuming that the trickster had been controlling the darkened skies, Emma barely noticed the evening wasn't as foreboding as earlier. Her brain was still struggling to process the sequence of events that had just taken place on the rooftop and the shocking role she'd just played. She sank to her knees in disbelief as her gaze locked on the stuffed toy that rested in the very position Walsh had stood moments ago.

Magic - magic more powerful than she'd ever experienced - had escaped from her fingertips like an electric shock, yet she hadn't really been surprised by the sensation. This new magic had felt so comfortable, so natural. Had she always had those abilities?

The only real surprise had been in her unexpected ally. There'd been something familiar in that creepy cackle but at this particular moment, she was too shaken to place the voice that had whispered in her ear. Whoever (or whatever) it had been, the shadowy figure's presence had angered Walsh. It also hadn't been fazed by Walsh's powers yet Emma was astounded to think that this person had shown a degree of faith in her powers that she wouldn't have thought she was worthy of.

It seemed to have been an eternity since she'd been whisked atop this building but how much time had actually passed? Emma finally found the strength to push herself back to her feet and took a tentative step towards the plush monkey, approaching the toy with a degree of caution as though it might spring to life. Had she really just turned Walsh Gibbons into a stuffed animal?

She slid the garnet-capped signet ring onto her index finger, finding herself twisting it mindlessly as thoughts of her actions crossed her mind. She pushed them away as she lowered her hand to scoop up the little monkey. It didn't appear quite so sinister upon closer inspection, but she wasn't taking any chances and certainly wasn't about to leave it here. After a brief examination and determination that there was no lingering paranormal effect, she tucked the toy beneath her arm. It was time to get the hell off of this roof and get back to Killian…

Killian! Her mind was suddenly in overdrive, flooded with anxiety about what may have happened to him. She patted her pockets in search of her phone before remembering that she'd set it down on the nightstand before she'd kissed Killian. Ugh… how was she supposed to find out what had happened to Killian if she couldn't call anyone? For that matter, how was anyone supposed to call to see if she was alright?

Too bad the mysterious stranger couldn't have let her know if she had the ability to poof herself back over to the hospital before vanishing…

Emma managed to locate the doorway that led to the building's stairwell and hurried down the three stories to reach the ground level, using a tiny bit of magic to unlock the door of the ice cream shop she found herself in. She took a moment to secure the lock once she was outside but she made a mental note to return tomorrow to apologize to the proprietor anyway. She'd reimburse them for the lock in the event her magic caused any permanent damage.

She darted across an empty Main Street, still clutching the stuffed monkey, and made a left on 3rd, running as fast as her feet would allow before nearly colliding with a vehicle approaching from Oak Street. Hyper-focused on finding her way back to Storybrooke Hospital and the man she was now certain was her True Love, it barely registered that the vehicle now screeching to a halt was the black and white Sheriff's cruiser and the figure leaping out of the driver's seat was her brother, David.

"Emma!" David shouted to garner her attention, but she didn't seem to have noticed him. "Emma! Stop!" Her head snapped around as she heard her name called along with the order to Stop. Now she recognized David, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of her sibling. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded. "Regina called me and said you vanished from the hospital and we've been searching all over town for you…"

"I'm fine, David," she insisted, not wanting to waste time explaining things to her brother right now. "It's all over and I promise, I'll tell you everything, but right now, I need to get to Killian. I need to know that he's okay…"

"Your pirate, uh…, I mean Captain is fine. He's awake and confused, just as we all are."

"Then give me a ride over there."

"Yeah…, sure," he replied as he calmed down enough to notice the toy tucked in the crook of her arm. "But can you tell me what's with the monkey?"

"That is a very long story," Emma stated as she tossed the plush toy into the back seat of the cruiser before climbing in to the passenger seat. "I'll try to explain later… if I can figure it out myself first…"

"I'm going to regret asking, aren't I?" David asked as he slid back into the driver's seat and pulled the door closed while Emma fastened her seat belt. She answered him with simply a shrug of her shoulders. She'd just defeated a powerful demigod, albeit a weakened one, who had masqueraded as someone she'd once loved. She'd put an end to the town's history of supernatural challenges designed to strip witches of their magic. She'd thought to ask questions, to do the research that her mother hadn't done and now, it was time to reunite with the man she'd known for only a week. The man she now knew was her true love.

She certainly had some interesting conversations ahead of her.

**********

David slightly abused his authority as Sheriff as he sped his sister to the front entrance of Storybrooke Hospital, lights flashing and siren blaring the whole way. Using David's phone, Emma messaged Regina to ask her to lower the protective spell, promising she'd explain everything (at least as well as she could) when she arrived. She didn't have the faintest idea what she was going to say but something would come to her. At least she hoped something would come to mind since she really wasn't sure herself.

Regina's face wasn't exactly the one Emma wanted to see as the elevator doors parted so she tried her best to disguise the disappointment on her face when her cousin started asking questions before she could even step into the corridor.

"Emma, what the hell happened? Where did you go?" Regina impatiently rattled off her inquisition but before Emma could even open her mouth to reply, David held up his hand with the best I've got this expression on his face.

"Give her a minute or two, Regina," David stated, ushering the mayor aside while Emma slipped past. "She's had a rough day and just uncovered her true love. Don't you think they deserve a moment alone?"

Emma grinned at her brother's words. It had to be killing him to say that, she thought as she overheard Regina sputtering through a dejected reply. Madame Mayor wasn't used to being usurped by her underlings, even if they were her relatives.

Her heart was pounding and her skin was flushed as she passed through the open doorway into Killian's room, finding him seated atop the bed wearing the same dusty black jeans he'd had on when she'd found him in Walsh's root cellar. He'd clearly been rushing to dress himself, his midnight blue tee-shirt still clutched in his hand when she entered. His back was to her but he turned immediately to face her at the sound of her footsteps on the tile. Her breath hitched in her throat for a split-second at the sight of his bare, well-toned chest, eyes drifting to the patches of dark, thick hair trailing across his pectorals and down the center of his abdomen.

"Killian, hi…," she stammered, lifting her gaze to meet his eyes before he caught her checking him out. The sly smile that crossed his lips indicated she was probably too late.

"Emma...I'm so glad to see you, Love," he said, dropping the tee-shirt onto the bed as he stood to face her. Both felt equally awkward and anxious, having learned in very different ways that they were true loves. They still had so much to learn about the other. There were so many more words to be said and time to be spent together but in this instant, all of those seemed insignificant as she rushed toward his open arms. Without hesitation, he drew her to him and captured her parted lips with his. Emma sighed into his kiss as their bodies pressed together, relaxing as she relished his embrace, the fear of losing him diminishing as she gently caressed his wounded shoulder.

Without breaking their connection, Emma wiggled her fingers in the direction of the door, willing it to close as the sudden need for a little privacy struck her. As she heard it slam shut at her command, the corners of her mouth upturned into a deeper smile that Killian reciprocated when he noticed the glass wall of the hospital room frosting over with an opaque white film as if by magic.

Pure true love magic.

The Next Day

An overnight in a hospital bed was certainly not the evening Killian Jones would have preferred to spend with his newfound true love. Dr. Whale had insisted his patient stay the night for observation since he hadn't been able to determine the unknown substances present in Killian's blood. Emma knew it was the sleeping potion, but Dr. Whale didn't know that. The doctor saw a man who'd been inexplicably unconscious for hours with a stab wound in his shoulder and despite Killian's arguments that he kept his hook spotless, Whale had insisted on intravenous antibiotics to stave off infection. The stubborn captain was finally forced to concede defeat when Emma reminded him that his abductor might have subjected Killian's hook to some less-than-sanitary treatment before shoving it into his shoulder - not that Killian wasn't going to grumble about his additional night of forced captivity.

Having slept for a full day already, Killian was wide awake so, despite her own exhaustion, Emma stayed up to talk with him as long as she physically could, eventually drifting off to sleep curled into his uninjured side on the narrow bed. He wrapped his arm around her, careful not to entangle her in the tubes and wires attached to him while he thought of ways to inform his crew that they'd be remaining moored in this port for a little while longer.

When released shortly after 9 o'clock, David met them at the curb, dropping off Emma's car while Graham waited in the cruiser across the street to drive his boss back to the station. They'd both agreed that Emma deserved a couple of days off so they offered to cover her shifts until Wednesday to give her some time to decompress. She, of course, planned to spend as much of that time as possible with Killian Jones.

Emma drove Killian to the harbor, leaving him to reclaim his position as Captain while she made a brief trip back to the loft for a much needed hot shower and a change of clothes. She assured him that she'd return in an hour or two and whether or not it made her the talk of the town, she had no intention of leaving his side tonight.

She managed to dodge most of Mary Margaret's questions as she cleaned up and pulled on a pair of faded blue jeans that she paired with a casual charcoal grey sweater. She hurried downstairs clutching her favorite ankle boots, flopping onto one of the kitchen chairs to tug them on while her sister-in-law brought her a brown paper bound parcel.

"I almost forgot," Mary Margaret spoke up as she extended the package towards Emma. "This came for you this morning."

"It did?" Emma asked quizzically as she took the parcel into her own hand. She didn't see any postmarks or return address on it and she hadn't been expecting anything. What was this that had mysteriously arrived today?

"I found it on the doorstep after David left to pick you up."

"Oh, okay… Thanks." Emma peeled off the paper wrapping and was stunned to find that beneath that outer layer was her mother's journal. "You didn't happen to see who left this, did you?" she asked as her sister in law turned on the faucet to start washing the breakfast dishes.

"Uh, no, sorry."

"That's okay. I think I may know…" Maybe she'd been wrong about something here but she knew she'd need to make a pit stop on the way back to the harbor. "I've got to get going. Thanks for this."

"Enjoy the time with your Captain," Mary Margaret dismissed her with a knowing grin as the sink filled with hot water.

**********

But the Jolly Roger wouldn't be her immediate destination. Emma drove to Main Street and eased her Bug to the curb, setting her jaw firmly as she parked the car and clambered out, clutching the toy monkey that had materialized the previous night in her left hand. She stomped fervently to the entrance to the pawn shop and unceremoniously shoved the door open, thankfully finding no patrons in the shop as the little warning bell attached to the handle sounded. Without waiting for the shop's proprietor to emerge from the back room, she flipped the Open sign over to read Closed instead.

She'd rather this be a private conversation.

A slightly perturbed Mr. Gold emerged from beyond his bead curtain as Emma flopped the stuffed toy atop his glass countertop.

"Deputy Swan… To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this morning?" He stabbed a bony finger at the toy littering his counter. "And what's with the toys? If you're planning to pawn that, it's hardly worth anything…"

"I think you know why I'm here," she replied. "I think you know a lot more than the little bits and pieces you've been feeding me."

"Am I supposed to know what that means?"

"Yeah, I think you do. After all, you showed up to help me last night - albeit in a very different form. Just who the hell are you? Forget that… what the hell are you?"

Gold sighed dejectedly then raised his hand and locked the door with a flick of his wrist. "Seems as though we should keep this between us."

"Fine with me, as long as you start telling me the truth!"

"Truth can be subjective, Miss Swan. You of all people should understand that."

"Understand what? How everyone has lied to me since the moment I arrived into this town? I used to think I could tell when people lied to me, but then I came here and suddenly, I have no idea who I can trust…"

"I'm afraid that's because the spell your mother gifted you with doesn't work within the boundaries of Storybrooke. She intended it to protect you from those outside our town lines, not within."

"So people from Storybrooke can lie to me all they want and I'd never know it? How do I know you're not lying to me right now?"

"Because right now, your desire for the truth has brought you here, exactly as I knew it would."

"You knew. I knew it!" she exclaimed although there was still a heavy degree of skepticism in her voice. "What the hell is going on here? Last night, I got transported across town, had a battle with a damned trickster who once pretended to care for me, had some creepy, shadowy figure show up and give me this…," she unfurled her right hand to reveal the garnet ring that had repelled Walsh's magic. "And then a magical shield suddenly deflected his magic and he disappeared, leaving only this little plush monkey where he'd been standing. But I'm pretty sure you already knew all of that since you were the shadowy figure up on that rooftop with me. Isn't that right, Dearie?"

Gold chuckled, picking up the toy to examine it. "You're every bit the witch I knew you would be, Emma. From the moment your powers emerged, I knew you'd be the one to save this town."

"And I thought you barely knew my family? What else do you know about us? About my mother?"

"As much as any grandfather should - except how to protect her…"

"Grandfather?" Emma wasn't sure if what he was saying was real, but she found herself suddenly speechless.

"You wanted to know who I was. When I founded this town, my name was Francois Albert Blanchard. Of course, that's just one of many names I've used over the centuries and I projected a far different appearance. I was a little taller and a little burlier back then… Something more like this…" The old man snapped his fingers and in the blink of an eye, an entirely different person stood before her. This person stood six inches taller in stature and had a far stockier build than that of the often frail looking Mr. Gold. And there was no doubt that he was the spitting image of the Blanchard family patriarch.

"What are you…?" Emma demanded, backing a step away from the counter as the image of her great grandfather vanished and the familiar face of the pawn shop owner reappeared. "Walsh said something about me being descended from something more evil than him… I didn't believe it but I don't know what to believe right now…"

"Walsh wasn't wrong - there is a degree of evil to me. As the living embodiment of dark magic, there always will be evil that comes with that. I've been called many things throughout the years but essentially The Dark One has been the name that stuck."

"The Dark One? Seriously? Are you another immortal like Walsh? Another trickster?"

"You're not entirely wrong, Dearie. While my powers are not exactly akin to my more volatile brother, there's some degree of similarity between the two of us."

"Brother? Walsh was your brother? Please tell me you're kidding me…"

"Well, adopted brother. My mother had a habit of bringing home strays back then. His given name was actually Malcolm. Believe it or not, he was once the epitome of light magic - well, at least he was when we left the old world. He quickly discovered what so many magic practitioners learn the hard way - power corrupts. Unfortunately, he became addicted to it. By the time we'd founded this town to create a refuge for those like us, Malcolm was growing crazed for power. So, I created a talisman that would temper his magic. It kept him tied here to Storybrooke."

"Walsh… Malcolm… he said you'd kept him tethered here… That ring? That was the talisman, wasn't it? But if you had his powers under control, why couldn't you stop him?"

Gold sighed, leaning back against the doorframe as he tried to determine the best way to answer. "After our falling out, Malcolm vanished off into the woods and no one saw him for years. I'd honestly lost track of him, and interest in finding him, until the attack on Ursula. By then, I'd been here far too long as a Blanchard so I had to leave for a while. When I returned, my children were long grown and I bore the appearance of someone my grandchildren's age. No one had heard of or from Malcolm in a generation, yet somehow, the tale of the town's founding had evolved into the one you heard - one about a warlock seeking to trick witches out of their magic through unknown challenges rather than a rogue trickster who'd been stripped of most of his powers playing absurd, dangerous games."

"You came back and joined the coven with your own granddaughters? Interesting… and only a little disturbing…" She'd barely processed half of what he'd divulged and none of it was getting easier to digest.

"I joined the coven to protect my family. I just couldn't let them know who I was. I did everything I could to help teach them to respect magic, but I didn't know about that ridiculous love spell Malcolm planted until it was too late. He was calling himself Ozmund by then and I know he targeted your mother on purpose. He knew Ava was a Blanchard so he knew her powers would help restore his own, but he had to defeat her to steal them. I hated seeing what he did to her…"

"Let me get this straight - your power-crazed brother pretended to romance his own great-niece to steal her powers? Adopted or not, do you have any idea how depraved that is? And then - damn… He did the same thing to me?" Emma was suddenly sick to her stomach at the thought of her time spent with Walsh in Boston, now ever so thankful that their relationship had never advanced to the bedroom. "I think I'm going to be sick…"

"Try to save the retching until you're out of my store. You've no blood relation, but I agree, it was rather disturbing. I didn't know him anymore. He'd become every bit as evil and dark as I was, perhaps more so, and I had hoped that after he stole your mother's powers that he'd just leave Storybrooke and never return. He'd regained enough to cross the town line. He had no reason to come back here…"

"Until he ran into me," Emma realized. Walsh or Malcolm or whatever his name was might not have come back if he hadn't stumbled into her in Boston. "He said that running into me in Boston was completely by chance. He recognized me because I look so much like my mother. Did I bring him back here?"

"You're not to blame. No one ever set the story straight that there was no actual warlock and your mother never completely recovered from her ordeal. When you started showing signs of birthright magic - magic that comes from within, not learned from a spell book, she got scared. She took you and ran from Storybrooke, leaving your heartbroken family behind. She didn't understand she would have been safer staying here."

Emma paced a circle through the center of the shop, her mind spinning with information overload. What a week this had been…

"Walsh said he'd been back here though… Even you confirmed that you'd seen him, did work for him… He came back before I did so why didn't you stop him then? According to you, my mother's box was here the whole time so why didn't you use the talisman against him again?"

"I couldn't," Gold confesses with a loud sigh. "When he returned, Malcolm was stronger than I'd expected and as I'd done to him, he created a talisman to control my powers. In a game of chess, we'd have both been in check. I couldn't deny his requests whether it be creating potions, gathering exotic elixirs and supplies from abroad… or sending a letter…"

A letter? Emma's pupils broadened as it instantly clicked. "About a year ago, a letter showed up addressed to my mother. It had a return address here in Storybrooke. That's what sparked my interest because she'd never mentioned Storybrooke before. My curiosity got the best of me and it brought me here - right into his trap…"

"That was precisely what he wanted. He saw you in Boston and thought you'd be the weakest link of the Blanchard heirs, but he completely underestimated your tenacity - and your natural ability to question everything. That proved his downfall."

Emma was overwhelmed. She hadn't walked in here expecting any of this, but there as more she needed to know. "You created the sleeping potion that he used on Killian, didn't you?"

"You mean the young man who proved to be your true love? Unfortunately, yes, I did. I'm glad your heart was strong enough to let you see through it."

"Was kissing him really the only way to wake him?" The old man nodded, confirming that it had indeed been their true love that awakened Killian. "Alright…, I've heard about as much as my head can handle for one day but I've got two last questions. First - does Belle know who and what you are?"

"She does not. As of this moment, you are the only one who knows who I am. I change my appearance gradually each year to mimic aging and eventually, I will have to leave her and our son. In a few years, I'll return with a new identity."

"Sounds like a pretty lonely existence…"

"After five centuries, you've no idea…," he mused, voice deep with melancholy. "What was your other question?"

"Was Walsh really waiting for some package to arrive or was that all an act?"

"Oh, he was definitely anxiously awaiting an elixir he'd procured from some distant realm. Supposedly, it would have granted him the ability to use his powers beyond the bounds of Storybrooke."

"He could have used his magic in the outside world?"

"Was that a third question, Miss Swan? I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that one, but I do have work to get back to. Don't you have your Captain to return to as well?"

"Yeah, I do. Thank you for your honesty. Your secret is safe with me, but when I've finished digesting all of this overload, I'll be back with more questions."

"I'm certain you will," he replied, squeezing the body of the toy monkey as he carried it back into his private sanctuary beyond the beads. She hadn't expected he'd want to keep it, but he'd not asked for the garnet ring back. Perhaps it's job was done or perhaps it was just time to bequeath it to the new generation. Either way, she slipped it into her jacket pocket as she unlocked the door and reversed the sign to again read Open with the slightest wiggle of her index finger.

Gold listened for the bell on the door to chime, for the echo of footsteps to dissipate before returning to the shop, the plush monkey still clutched in his left hand. He watched Emma make an illegal u-turn in the middle of Main Street as she departed for the harbor front. Satisfied that the only person in Storybrooke who knew his secret was out of sight, Gold propped the toy on the counter and let out a hearty chuckle.

"You've never looked better, Malcolm," he said snidely as his palm closed over the toy's head. Gripping the body with his other hand, he twisted the head and yanked it from the body, spilling foam and polyester stuffing onto the glass countertop. "I warned you to leave my family alone," he continued, pulling stuffing from the toy by the fistful until a gold ring nearly identical to the one Emma had left with toppled out from amongst the fluff except the the capping stone was a deep smoky topaz instead of a garnet. "I knew you'd have it on you," Gold beamed with a wide, toothy grin as he slipped the ring onto his left middle finger, relishing the warm glow it gave off. "The Dark One has returned."

There were no ears to hear his announcement. No one to share his elation over the sensation of lost magic once again coursing through his veins. He didn't need it to be broadcast though. The extent of his power would remain a secret and both that secret and his legacy would be secure with his great-granddaughter.

**********

The jovial face of William Smee was the first to greet her as Emma bounded up the gangplank and stepped onto the deck with a canvas backpack slung over her left shoulder. After last night's supernatural darkness, today's brilliant sunshine was welcoming. The bay was so calm she barely noticed the ship bobbing with the gentle waves.

"Deputy Swan! It's so wonderful to see you," Mr. Smee smiled as he offered an arm to steady her land legs while maneuvering around and over obstacles including buckets, mops and ropes. "Sorry it's such a mess. Last night's storm did a number on the deck…"

"I'm sure it did. Is Killian… uh, Captain Jones in his quarters?"

"He is indeed," Smee replied. "He's been expecting you, but he has been resting as the doctor ordered. Is it true that we'll be spending another two weeks here while he recuperates?"

Emma had to stifle a giggle at Smee's question, wondering what else Killian had told them to explain why they weren't sailing out this week as planned. "Uh, yeah… the doctor didn't want him heading out into the open ocean until his shoulder is healed. Not taking any chances, you know?" She hoped her story was close enough to whatever tale Killian had spewed to be believable. Of course, she doubted it would take long for the crew to figure out the real reason.

"No matter. We're all just glad you were able to find the captain and bring him back to his ship. He instructed me to have Cookie send down some luncheon items for you once you arrived. I'll make sure to do that."

"Thank you, Mr. Smee," she replied as she raised the hatch to Killian's quarters. Smee helped her hold it open as she descended into the cabin at the ship's stern, finding Killian seated at his writing desk when she reached the bottom.

"Hello, Love," he smiled, standing to meet her in the center of the cozy cabin as the hatch fell closed above them.

"Hello to you, too," she responded, tossing her backpack onto the chair he'd just vacated. "Aren't you supposed to be resting?"

"This is resting," was his reply as he slipped his arms around her waist. "I'm resting my eyes on the most beautiful woman in all the realms."

"Really? I don't think this would meet those doctor's orders…," she teased him, brushing her lips against his cheek as she eased him backwards toward his bunk. His untrimmed stubble prickled her skin as he turned his head to try to capture her lips with his own but before he could, she pushed him down onto the mattress. "You're supposed to be resting…"

"And I do indeed plan to rest, but right now, I desperately want to kiss you…" She almost wanted to burst out laughing at the ridiculous pout on his face but she held her composure as she flopped down next to him on the narrow bed, tossing a couple of jewel toned silk pillows to the wall as she reached over and began to unbutton his shirt. "Now Emma…, I thought you intended for me to rest?" he said in mock protest as she undid the rest of the buttons and gently slid the fabric over his bandaged shoulder first before he shrugged it off his other arm.

"Oh, I fully intend to help you rest," she assured him as she planted a tender kiss on his crinkled forehead. "You're way too overdressed…"

"I do enjoy the way you think," he smirked as she shook her head.

"Don't think too much into it - at least not today," she stated, noting the immediate disappointment in his gaze. "You really do need to rest. You look exhausted, even if that potion did make you sleep an entire day. I promise you, I'm not going anywhere though. According to the laws of magic, you're my true love and honestly, I really don't want to screw this up. I want to take this time to fill in some blanks. To get to know you. Hell, I want to get to know me… A whole lot has changed for me this week and I hope you understand…"

"Emma, Love… I would wait an eternity for you. If fate means for us to be together, you won't find argument from me. I've been smitten with you from the very moment I laid eyes upon you and all this week, I've dreamed that you would feel the same."

"Well, how's this for an answer…?" She leaned closer to him, at last pressing her lips into his, gently at first but becoming increasingly fervent, driven by a passion she'd never experienced before.

So this was what true love felt like? Maybe she still had a lot to learn… And she was more than willing to commit a lifetime to it.

#cssns #captain swan supernatural summer #cs ff #cs au ff #witch emma #a simple spell #sorry it took so long to finish this #the past few weeks have been pure insanity #I'm actually amazed the muse returned

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lelitachay · 5 years ago

Text

Frozen fanfiction: Søsken

Summary: Even though Anna loved her sister-in-law, she couldn’t help but notice there was something peculiar about Elsa. Everything starts to make sense after an accident and a forced family reunion.

Modern AU. Kristanna - Frohana - Kristoff & Elsa BrOTP.

Chapters 1 to 10 - Here

Chapter 11 - Repercussions

Chapter 12 - Time apart

Chapter 13 - Guilt

The way I see it

Elsa woke up startled by the incessant ringing of the telephone. Even if she recognised the sound, it took her some seconds to understand where she was. She was confused by the fact she was waking up in her living room that morning. But she soon realised she must have fallen asleep at some point during the night. Thus, explaining why she was waking up on her couch.

After the initial confusion, she remembered the events the night before. Both girls had returned inside, once Elsa had calmed down, and they had sat down close to the fireplace once again. Elsa hadn't really noticed how cold Anna was until she saw her shivering in front of the fire; and, not thinking twice about it, she offered Anna her room to sleep in. Anna had refused as Elsa had expected her to do, but she had been determined to make the girl sleep in the only warm bedroom in the house. It had taken Elsa some time to convince Anna she didn’t feel the cold like other people did, which led to a conversation about Elsa’s powers and the way she experienced heat.

Elsa didn't quite enjoy talking about her powers since every question reminded her of the multiple questions she had been asked over the years by the nurses and doctors in Romsdal. But she had been patient with Anna and she had explained that, even if she wasn’t affected by cold, she did feel it. It was just a different feeling than what the rest of the people experienced. While for the majority the cold was something uncomfortable, for her the cold had a soothing effect she couldn't really compare to anything else.

Elsa had then stayed in the living room, after Anna had accepted her offer. She had stayed awake thinking about her family, Anna and everything that had happened in the last three weeks.

The phone rang for the fifth time forcing her to stop thinking about the events the previous night, and get up. And, even if she wasn’t in the mood to talk so early in the morning, she smiled when she heard the voice of her mother on the other side...

Anna, on the other hand, had woken up earlier that it was usual for her that morning. The conversation with Elsa the previous day kept replaying in her head and she couldn’t help but feel bad for the older girl. There were many things she had wanted to ask Elsa, since it was obvious she had years of pain bottled up inside of her chest, and Anna suspected she suffered from anxiety and depression. But she knew she had to be patient and thankful that Elsa was at least willing to accept her in her life after everything that had happened.

In a twisted way, Anna had been right about the truth. It could be considered a good thing. Her parents had finally come clean about their past; and Elsa had the chance to use the truth as an inflection point in her life. Whatever had happened to her in her childhood had left an open wound, which was still in the process of healing. And Anna thought this could be her opportunity to heal.

Anna heard Elsa pick up the phone and start a conversation in the other room, and thought it was a good opportunity to get up, use the bathroom and start her day. She thought she could prepare breakfast for Elsa, as a thank you for letting her stay and use her bed.

When Anna left the bathroom, she waved a silent morning greeting to Elsa who was still speaking on the phone. The older girl just smiled in return, as she continued her conversation. Anna didn’t want to overhear, but the word hospital had called her attention when walked by Elsa’s side. She knew it was probably just another doctor appointment, but she heard Elsa’s discomfort about the idea of going to the hospital once again. She was really curious to know the reason behind Elsa’s fear of hospitals, but she thought it was best to wait for Elsa to tell her on her own.

Once inside the kitchen, Anna focused all her energy in her task at hand. She checked the fridge and she picked some milk, eggs and butter; and began cooking. A couple of minutes later, Elsa entered the room, and sat down in front of Anna, who was setting the table by that time.

"Morning. Did the phone wake you up too?" asked Elsa, worried she had disturbed Anna in her sleep.

"Morning,” answered Anna with a smile. “Not really. I was awake before it started ringing." Anna got everything she had prepared to the table and offered, "coffee?"

"You didn't need to make breakfast."

"Of course I did. It was the least I could do since you let me stay and not freeze to death outside…” She gave Elsa a big smile and showed her the coffee pot. “So, coffee?"

Elsa chuckled as she handed her the empty cup. The idea of anyone letting someone like Anna outside in that weather was ridiculous to Elsa, but she guessed she could accept the girl’s gratitude and enjoy breakfast.

Anna sat down, and only then she noticed the books piled up on one of the corners of the table. She had been so focused on breakfast, she hadn’t really seen them before. She smiled when she realised they were coursebooks and a worn out notebook. Asking Elsa for permission, she opened the notebook to pay a look.

“I’ve been trying to study on my own,” explained Elsa when Anna began reading what was written in it.

As she turned the pages, Anna saw Elsa had been practicing her calligraphy, together with some math problems. There were some notes about nature, which she guessed were part of Elsa’s curiosity of how things in the world worked. It was fascinating for Anna to see Elsa's hard work and determination to learn. There were a lot of things she needed to improve, but the amount of work she had done on her own in the last few weeks was impressive.

“You’ve done a lot of work,” said Anna. She couldn’t help but feel proud of Elsa.

"I've been trying. But I'm not doing really good."

"I think you’re doing great,” said Anna as she turned a few more pages. “I'm sure you are learning a lot on your own."

"I don't think so.” Elsa extended her hand asking for the notebook. Once Anna gave it to her, she began turning the pages, looking at all the exercises she had done wrong. “I try but I don't understand a thing. It was easier with you," she confessed.

Anna smiled at her, but something told her Elsa was not just being nice. She actually looked frustrated. It was then Anna picked the math book that was on the pile in the corner. She read its title and she was surprised to see it was a book of a higher level than she originally imagined. She showed Elsa a sympathetic smile and said, “no wonder you think things were easier with me. Elsa, look at these…” She opened the math book and showed her some exercises. “They are too complex for you right now.”

“I don’t have a lot of books.” She sighed. It didn’t matter how much she tried, she always found a way to make things more complicated than it was necessary. “I thought Kristoff’s old books could work.”

“They could be useful in the future, but right now I wouldn’t recommend them.”

“What books can I use then?”

"Well, my books could help... I'm still available if you want to continue studying.” She wanted to let Elsa know she was more than willing to help her. “I know things have been weird these last few weeks, but my offer to help you earn your diplomas stands. I could come here on weekends to teach you, and you could practice on your own during the week.”

“You would do that for me?” Elsa was surprised to hear Anna’s offer. One thing was to teach her when they spent almost everyday together, and another was to take the time to travel every weekend just for her.

“Of course! If you want me to, that is."

Elsa played with the napkin in front of her while she thought about her options. She really wanted to study and do something with her life, but on the other hand, she didn’t want Anna to sacrifice her weekends just to help her. “Why are you so nice to me?” she asked after a moment.

Anna put her hand over Elsa’s to make sure she payed attention to her words. “Because you are a good person and everyone deserves a chance to study. It’s unfair you didn’t get yours when you were a kid.” Anna stopped for a moment when she noticed how cold Elsa’s hand was. It was obvious she was nervous, but that didn’t stop Anna from saying what she wanted to say. “I want to help you. That’s what family do.”

Elsa opened her eyes in surprise at that. She still had mixed feelings about the idea of the two of them being family. She didn’t feel comfortable accepting Agdar and Idunn into her life after everything she had gone through. However, Anna’s help and comforting presence was something she could accept.

"Anna, I-” She began to say but since she found no words to explain the way she felt, she thought it was better to let the comment slip and simply be thankful for Anna’s offer. “Thank you.”

Anna hold her hand a little tighter, glad to feel it was a bit warmer than before. “So, that’s a yes, right?”

A chuckle and a nod gave her the confirmation she was waiting for.

After talking with her daughter on the phone, Gerda began arranging things in the house for Elsa’s stay that weekend. She was making a list of the things she needed to buy, when she heard knocks on the front door. Curious to know who would visit on a Saturday morning, she stopped what she was doing and opened the door.

To say she was surprised to see Idunn and Agdar at her door was an understatement. The last thing she expected was for them to show up at their house after Kristoff had practically kicked them out a couple of weeks before. She hadn’t heard anything about them in the past weeks; but if she had to be honest, she hadn’t really given the couple much thought. Her main concern had been Elsa, and how she was coping with the news. She had wondered about Anna and how the sweet girl was dealing with everything too, but she hadn’t seen her since that day either.

Making sure not to show the way she felt, Gerda greeted her guests and invited them in. Years of working with people had taught her how to keep a gentle expression, and to treat each person equally. There was nothing she wanted more than to give the younger couple a piece of her mind for showing up in Elsa's life the way they had, but she thought it was better to have a civilised conversation instead.

"How can I help you?" she asked, as she sat in the armchair in front of them.

Agdar and Idunn looked at each other, trying to come to an agreement about who was going to speak. They knew their chances to get closer to Elsa, and to know more about her life depended on how that conversation played out. Making them feel more nervous than they already were.

Agdar took the initiative and said, "first of all, we wanted to say we are sorry for any problem our presence may have caused in your household. It was wrong to overstep your boundaries and come into your house claiming to be Elsa's parents. We didn't stop to think before acting, and for that we apologise." He tried to be as methodical as possible. The last thing he wanted was to disrespect the Bjorgmans after everything they have caused. "We also wanted to talk with you and Kai, if that's possible."

Gerda smoothed the wrinkles on the cushion she was holding, as she tried to come up with a respectful answer. "I'm not going to lie and say everything is okay," she began. "I wish you could have been more careful in the way you delivered the news to Elsa, but there's no point in discussing that now. What's done is done." Not waiting for an answer, she left the room to call her husband, who was in the garage. He had been preparing the car to travel to the North mountain and pick Elsa up.

Kai stopped his work when Gerda explained to him Agdar's request, and soon joined them inside. He knew there was a good reason for their sudden visit, and he wanted to be present. Any topic that involved Kristoff or Elsa, was top priority to him. He also knew his wife was still struggling with the news, and he wanted to make sure she didn't say something she could regret. Agdar and Idunn were Kristoff's in-laws and, even if it pained him to admit it, they were Elsa's biological parents. The least they could do was have a good-natured relationship.

"What can we do for you?" he asked once he greeted them both. He sat on a chair by his wife's side, and patiently waited for them to speak.

Agdar waited no time, and soon began explaining what they were doing there. “Ever since we saw Elsa at our house, we haven’t stopped thinking about her. About who she is, who she has become. We were wondering if you could help us get in touch with her again.”

“We know Elsa has all the right in the world not to forgive us if that’s what she wants,” said Idunn joining her husband’s explanation. “But we would like a chance to talk to her. At least once. To tell her how sorry we are. To let her know why we did what we did.”

“Let me get this straight,” replied Gerda. “You want us to convince our daughter to give you a chance?”

Agdar nodded. If he put it simple, that was exactly what they wanted.

“I know it’s a big favour to ask,” continued Idunn. “But we don’t know what to do. Seeing Elsa after so many years was a shock to us. We would really like a chance to see her.”

“I don't think she is ready to meet you yet. So, no,” she answered, cutting to the chase. Even if she felt some pity for the couple, Gerda was not going to go against her daughter’s wishes. “I won’t force her to listen to you if she doesn’t want to.”

“We understand,” interjected Agdar. “but, please, try to see things from our perspective. How would you feel if you found your daughter after over twenty years? Wouldn’t you like the chance to talk to her?”

“I would certainly do,” she said honestly. “Nonetheless, I would be aware I gave up the right to be part of her life the moment I abandoned her.”

“Gerda, please,” interrupted Kai, not wanting her wife to start an argument.

Looking at her husband she said, “No. I'm sorry. I'm not going to pretend this okay, Kai.” She turned to the younger couple again and explained, “I understand this must have been a shock for you. But the way I see it, Elsa is not your daughter anymore. You can’t see her if she doesn’t want to.”

The remark about Elsa not being their daughter angered Agdar. He knew it was true to some extent, but the truth hurt him more than he had imagined. “Even if the circumstances are not what one would call ideal, she is our daughter. We can't just be erased from her life.”

“Of course you can,” said Gerda raising her voice. “You abandoned her. You were the ones who walked away from her first. It’s only logical she doesn’t want to reach out to you now. Have you ever stopped to think about her feelings?”

“You don't understand,” cut in Idunn. She felt terribly guilty for her past decisions and she needed a chance to talk with Elsa. “We had our reasons. We-”

“We all have reasons for our actions.” Gerda was not willing to sit and hear excuses. “It’s important you remember that there are reasons and then there are consequences.”

“We are aware of the damage we have caused.” Agdar tried to explain. He knew it was going to be difficult to change Gerda’s opinion, but he needed to try.

“No, you are not.” She was not going to let them act as if they knew what Elsa had been through. “You left Elsa to face the world alone. A world that casts aside those who are different. Did you really think she was going to be okay on her own?” Part of her wanted to listen them, to give them a chance. But she couldn’t. She had promised to do everything in her power to protect Elsa’s best interest when she adopted her.

“We did what we thought was best for her,” said Idunn, blinking away her tears. “We loved her.”

“Well, you made a mistake.”

“Gerda, please, stop. I’m sure they know they made a huge mistake,” interrupted Kai once again. “Look,” he said, calling the Arendelles’ attention. “Elsa’s childhood wasn’t conventional, and she’s only now finding out she could have been spared the pain if only you didn’t abandoned her.” He was not okay with the way Gerda was addressing the topic, but he agreed with her. “All we are trying to do is respect her wishes.” He looked at his watch and thought it was better to end the conversation there. “Now, if you could excuse us. We need to go pick Elsa up for a doctor’s appointment. Can we discuss this some other time?”

Agdar nodded and stood up. He knew there was no reason to keep insisting. He had to be thankful Kai was willing to discuss the matter in the future. Maybe it was best to respect their opinion now and give Elsa some more time too.

As they were leaving the house, Idunn tried her luck and asked them for one last favour. She held Gerda's hands in hers and said, "please, I beg you, at least tell her we tried. Let her know we tried to get her back. We just couldn’t find her."

Gerda noticed the pain in her eyes and, feeling bad for the woman, she thought she could agree to her request. She was about to answer, when Kai stepped in and asked, "what do you mean by that?"

Hearing Kai's interest, Agdar walked back to the door and explained, "Idunn and I, we searched every orphanage when we had enough money to take care of her. We wanted to do the right thing, but we couldn’t find her."

"Is that true?" asked Gerda, suddenly feeling bad for the couple.

Idunn nodded. "Would you mind telling us were she was? Where did you find Elsa?" She had been wondering about that since she found out Elsa had been living with the Bjorgmans.

Gerda looked at her husband, silently asking if it was okay to tell them.

Kai shook his head and answered for his wife, "we adopted Elsa under special circumstances. All I can say is she was not living in a proper institution, if that’s what you are asking."

"What?"

Kai looked at his watch once again and thought it wasn't the right time or place for that conversation. "I'm sorry. We really need to go."

Taking a card out of his wallet, Agdar said, "Here. This is my number. Please call me whenever you are available. We would really like to know where she was. It would help us understand a lot of things. Trust our word when we say we tried to find her."

"Or call if Elsa changes her mind and she wants to meet us," interrupted Idunn. "All we want to do is apologise and make amends."

Kai picked the card and nodded. He didn’t mention it, but he was already thinking meeting them again was going to be necessary. "We will," he promised.

The weather outside and Elsa’s limited movement didn’t give the girls much options on what to do while they waited for Elsa’s parents to come and pick them up. It was for that reason that they found themselves slouched on Elsa’s couch talking about life.

Elsa had told Anna about her appointment in the hospital, and how she hoped for the cast to be removed that day. She was eager to start moving more freely and return to the way things were before the accident once again. They had then talked about Elsa’s plan for the future, and what she wanted to do once her leg healed.

It was through this conversation that Anna found out Elsa’s work wasn’t just limited to the winter season like Anna had imagined. The mountain gave her and the rest of the people working there the chance to earn good money from winter sports almost all year long. Experienced skiers paid good money to those willing to show them the best natural slopes at the top of the mountain; and Elsa was one of the most trusted for that kind of work. The bad thing was the trails were too dangerous if you couldn’t trust your body, and her leg needed to be in the best shape possible to be able to accompany experienced skiers.

Anna was surprised to find out Elsa knew the mountain like the back of her hand, and that she was - together with Marshall - one of the few who regularly climbed to the different mountain shelters to supply them with essential goods too.

“I had no idea you did something like that!” exclaimed Anna, surprised to find out Elsa was more adventurous than she had imagined. “So, you climb up there even during the winter?”

Elsa leaned forward and left the photo album she had been showing Anna on the coffee table. It had a few pictures of her and Marshall in the different shelters, and one of the first time she had reached the summit of the North mountain.

“We try to provide the shelters with everything they need before winter sets in. Marshall and I are experienced enough to climb in case something happens to those living in the shelters, but we avoid climbing during the coldest months. It’s too dangerous.”

“What about the people living there? Isn’t it dangerous for them too?”

“They don’t come out much during winter. Only if there’s an emergency.” Seeing Anna’s confused expression she explained, “I know it sounds like they are risking their lives unnecessarily, but someone has to be up there in case something happens to hikers and skiers.”

“Have you ever stayed in a shelter?” Anna was still amazed by the life the girl had chosen, and she wanted to know more about it.

“No, I haven’t.” She looked out the window in the direction of the highest peak. “I’d like to, but you need to live with someone for at least three months. I’ve never trusted my powers enough to do something like that.”

“No one knows about your powers here?”

She shook her head. “No. Only my family, together with some policemen and doctors know. And now you, of course,” she said smiling. “As far as I know, that’s everyone.”

“Policemen and doctors?” Anna thought it was logical someone besides her immediate family knew, but it was strange to think some policemen were involved.

“It’s a long story. It has to do with how I came to live with the Bjorgmans,” she answered. She didn’t elaborate showing it was something she didn’t want to discuss at the moment.

The younger girl understood her request and asked a different question, “What about Marshall? He looks like someone you trust.”

Elsa smiled, she knew some question about the mountaineer was coming. She had, after all, told Anna some things about the times they’d climbed together. “I do trust him. We both know we can count on the other out there. But I’m afraid he wouldn’t look at me the same way if I tell him.” She looked at her hands for a moment and confessed, “the same happened with you. I wanted to stop lying and show you before, but the idea of people being afraid paralyses me. I’m still amazed you feel at ease around me.”

“Well,” she said, patting her hand. “I see the person you are. Not the powers.” Anna then scratched her chin as she thought about Elsa’s powers. “To be honest, I wish you could show me what you can do. You’ve only used them once in front of me.”

“I told you I don’t feel comfortable. And technically, I used them twice in front of you,” clarified Elsa.

To this Anna opened her eyes in amazement. How Elsa had been able to use her powers in front of her and get away with it was a mystery to Anna.

Seeing her expression, she explained, “you didn’t see me, but I used my powers to cushion the fall that day in the slope. I didn’t anticipated there was going to be a massive rock in the place I landed though.”

“Are you serious?”

She nodded. She had to admit it felt nice to tell Anna the truth about that day. She was always careful not to talk to much about the accident in fear of revealing something.

“Elsa…” Anna was astonished. She was finding out she could really have been dead if not for Elsa. “You really saved my life that day.”

“I was going to use my powers as a last resource if I didn’t get to you on time. Even if I freaked you out in the process.” Elsa smiled sheepishly. “I know it sounds crazy, but there was something that pushed me to the limit that day. I couldn’t have let you fall.”

Both girls stayed in silence for a couple of minutes. Anna was still processing what Elsa had just confessed. She couldn’t believe she had done something so brave that day, she chose to save her even if she knew she was putting her life - or her secret - at risk. A tender smile plastered on her face. “It’s like you knew we were family from the start.”

“What?”

“You said something pushed you to your limits. Don’t you think that’s it?” The idea was exciting to Anna. She had to admit she had felt a strange connection with Elsa from the start, and maybe the fact they were related could explain that feeling.

Not daring look at her, Elsa fixed her eyes on the table in front of her. “No, I- I don’t think that’s it.”

“Why?” Anna’s smile dropped.

Elsa glanced at Anna for a second before turning her attention to the table in front of her. She didn’t know how to explain she still found it hard to accept they were related. She liked Anna and she enjoyed her company, but she couldn’t find in her heart to accept Anna’s family as her own. “I told you last night, I don’t consider Agdar and Idunn my parents. As far as I am concerned, we are not part of the same family.”

Anna tried not to take her words to heart, but it hurt to hear her say that. “You don’t have to forgive our parents, but you have to accept we are family. What’s the point of denying it?”

Suddenly standing up, Elsa picked the photo album from the table and crutched her way to the bookshelf on the opposite wall. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“We’ll need to address this at some point, Elsa.” She wanted to help Elsa overcome her problems, but she thought the least she needed to do to begin healing was accept who she was. “Are you listening?” she asked, when she noticed Elsa was giving her the cold shoulder. Anna sighed, annoyed by Elsa’s attitude, and focused her attention on the magazine in front of her. If Elsa wanted to ignore her, then so be it.

For the next minutes, both girls spent their time in complete silence. Anna reading the oldest and most boring magazine she had ever seen, while Elsa ordered and rearranged the books in her bookshelf. Anna glimpsed Elsa’s back from time to time, trying to read what the girl was thinking, but it was useless.

Anna had no problem in keeping herself busy, but the silence was something she couldn’t really stand. So after some time, she dared ask, “mind if I turn on the radio?”

“Be my guest,” came Elsa’s reply. She didn’t sound angry or annoyed. But it was clear she still didn’t want to talk.

Anna walked the room until she found the radio on the other side, opposite to where Elsa was standing. She had some trouble finding something good to listen to, but after a while she was able to tune in a radio with soft rock music playing. She returned to her place on the couch and continued reading. The music changed from an acoustic guitar melody to a different song after a while, and she soon felt drawn to the rhythm and the voice of the singer.

How much of my mother has my mother left in me?

How much of my love will be insane to some degree?

And what about this feeling that I'm never good enough?

Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

She noticed Elsa drop a book, sigh in frustration and then struggle to pick it up as the first verse played. She was about to stand up and offer her some help, when Elsa reached it and in a sudden movement, she straightened up and threw the book directly at the radio. The song continued playing even after the book struck it and it fell to the ground.

Startled by what had just happened, Anna stood up in an instant. She couldn’t believe Elsa had done something like that completely out of the blue. She raised her hands in front of her in case Elsa chose her as her next target. “Hey, what are you doing?” she asked, still astounded.

“I- I can’t- It’s that stupid song!” replied Elsa. She looked angered, frustrated. She rested her back on the bookshelf and let herself slide to the floor. She put her head in her hands as she explained, “it’s been on repeat for a week already. I can’t stand it!”

Not knowing what to say or do, Anna walked to the radio and picked it up, putting it back on its table. She turned the volume down enough for only her to hear, and she continued listening.

How much like my brothers, do my brothers wanna be?

Does a broken home become another broken family?

Or will we be there for each other, like nobody ever could?

Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

I can feel love the I want, I can feel the love I need

But it's never gonna come the way I am-

She turned the music down, and walked back to where Elsa was sitting. Anna believed she understood why Elsa didn’t particularly liked the song. The lyrics did seem to be mocking her in a way. Nevertheless, she thought it was ridiculous to lash out on the poor radio like that. Whatever was going on in her head was not going to solve in that way. She sat on the coffee table, resting her arms on her knees and leaned in closer to Elsa. “It’s just a song, Elsa.”

“I know,” she admitted in defeat. She let go of her head and looked at Anna in the eyes. “How can it have such an effect on me? I hate feeling like this.”

Anna noticed then Elsa looked a lot more tired. Almost defeated. Gone was the composed girl she had been talking to mere minutes before. Anna’s heart ached for whatever had gone through her head in such a short period of time. Trying to make Elsa see the good side of the song, she tried, “that’s the beauty of music, isn’t it? It allows us to feel things. Even when we want to ignore our feelings.”

“It messes with my head.” She let a tired breath escape her lips, and hid her face in her hands once again.

“Maybe it messes with your head,” she poked Elsa’s head to stress her point, “because you are not letting yourself talk about the way you feel.”

Elsa stayed silent for some time trying to make sense of what Anna was telling her. She wondered if it was possible to feel better if she just let herself talk about her worries. She looked at Anna and noticed she was patiently waiting for her to say something. “I’m afraid my family won’t see me the same way anymore,” she confessed. “I fear I may lose my family now that your parents showed up.”

“Why would that happen?” Even if she tried, Anna couldn’t make sense of what Elsa was saying.

She built up her courage and said, “I’ve been nothing but trouble for Kai and Gerda since they took me in. Maybe they’ll follow your parents’ example, and see they are better off without me.”

“Elsa…”

“And I can’t trust your parents,” she interrupted. She didn’t want to stop now that she had finally voiced her fear. “Not the way I trust Kai and Gerda... What if I end up alone again?”

Anna hurried to answer her question before Elsa’s brain jumped to another absurd conclusion. “Finding out who you are - and where you come from - shouldn’t change anything, Elsa. It doesn’t work that way." She took her hand in hers and said, "you won’t end up alone. They love you.”

Elsa didn’t meet Anna’s eyes, letting her see she didn’t believe that to be true.

“Hey,” said Anna kneeling in front of her. “Listen to me. They do. Right now they are worrying they may lose you. Kristoff said so to me the other day.”

“Why?”

“Because you won’t talk to them. And they don’t know what’s going on in here.” She poked her forehead once again. “You’re just so frightened of losing your family, you keep pushing them away; and me too. You won’t heal if you keep hiding from everyone who’s ready to help you.”

She built up her courage and looked at Anna once again. “I really don’t want to push you away. But I can’t call you my sister yet. I’m sorry.”

Anna smiled at her comment. She could see the guilt written on her face, like she was actually trying to change the way she saw her. She felt she had been a little unfair with Elsa by trying to push her on that matter. Thinking it was best to just accept her friendship for the time being, she replied, “don’t worry about it.” She moved and sat down, resting her back on the bookshelf next to her.

After some minutes in silence, Elsa thought it was only fair to ask Anna how she was feeling. She had been so focused on her pain she hadn’t stopped to think about her. “Aren’t you afraid your family won’t ever be the same after this?”

Anna, being caught by surprise, thought her answer for some time. Things had seemed bleak for Anna too. However, even if she had cried herself to sleep, and she had blamed her parents for the lies; she hadn't let her fears control her life. She had simply chosen to make everything in her power to keep her family together.

She thought the best thing to do was be sincere with Elsa. "No, I’m not," she smiling. "Deep down I know that if we can overcome this, then we’ll become stronger. I trust in my parents."

"They lied to you." Elsa didn't want to remind Anna of her parents’ mistakes, but her trust was something she couldn't comprehend.

"Yes, they did," she agreed. "But I think they did it to protect me in some way… So, I trust their word when they say they loved you and they tried to do the right thing."

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust your parents.”

She found Elsa's eyes once again and said, "you don’t have to trust them. But I will, okay? For both of us."

On their way to the North mountain, Gerda noticed Kai was more distracted than usual. He wasn’t really paying attention to their conversation. He seemed to be only focused on the road, and whatever was in his mind. It called her attention since he rarely got lost in his thoughts like that.

“Kai, are you okay?” she asked when she saw him frown for the third time. “You’ve been quiet since we left home.”

“Do you think it’s true?”

“What?”

“What Agdar and Idunn said…” He looked at Gerda. “Do you think they tried to find Elsa?”

“I don’t know,” answered Gerda, thinking about what the couple had said at their place. “I hope it is. It’d mean they actually cared.” She thought it was weird he was worried for something like that. “Why?”

“At first, I thought they hadn’t tried to contact Elsa since the day they abandoned her.” He began explaining. “But, what if what they claim is true? What if they did try to find her? Wouldn’t that prove that Weselton purposely made Elsa go missing?”

“Kai…” said Gerda in a warning tone. She remembered a promised he had made long ago. “After Weselton’s sentence you promised you were not going to work on his case anymore.” She remembered clearly Kai sitting down to talk with Elsa. “What’s more important, you promised Elsa it was all over.”

“I know what I promised,” he knew she was not going to like what he was thinking. It was the main reason he had been so quiet. “But at the time I didn’t imagine her parents were alive. This changes everything.” He looked at the road to make sure it was safe, before looking at Gerda once again. “If we can prove the Arendelles were looking for her, then Weselton’s defence won’t make any sense.”

“Kai, enough,” she begged.

Suddenly feeling exasperated, he said, “Elsa didn’t found justice in that trial. He was convicted for his medical crimes, yes. But the justice didn’t even consider Elsa’s case.”

“We already went through this. There was a reason why we followed the prosecutor’s advice and we didn’t get Elsa involved years ago. It was for her own good, remember?”

He did remember, and he knew it had been for the best at the time. But now they had more information about Elsa’s past. Maybe they could find a way of helping Elsa find justice and closure. He needed to talk with Agdar and Idunn about Elsa’s childhood and find out if they knew more about Weselton than just his name. After all, they had mentioned his name the night Elsa lost control of her powers.

Gerda noticed the expression on his face, and realised he was still thinking about digging into the past. Hoping he was going to listen to her, she said, “Elsa’s been trying to bury the past. This won’t help her.”

“I won’t get Elsa involved in any of this. I promise.”

Gerda dropped the subject when she noticed they had reached the base of the mountain. In a few minutes they were going to meet Elsa, and she didn’t want to be discussing when they did. She made a mental note to talk with Kai once they were on their own again.

The song lyrics belong to John Mayer – “In the blood”

Tagging: @melody-fox, @kristoffxannafanatic, @kristannafictionals, @neptrabbit, @skneez, @ellacarter13, @wondering-in-life, @who-i-am-8, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @815-allisnotlost, @khartx, @joannevixxon, @betweenthedreams, @lilrann, @burbobah, @rileysfs, @zutonium, @earlvessalius, @blood-jewel, @disneydreamer8901, @the-sky-is-awake, @disneyfan103, @the-magic-one-is-you, @anamaria8garcia, @welovefrozenfanfiction, @bigfrozenfan-archive, @bigfrozenfan, @frozen-snips @deisymendoza @zackhaikal123 @cornstarch @roostercrowedatmidnight @wandering-bard-from-the-id, @showurselfelsa @fuzzyelsalikeiduna @when-dawn-arrives @drafteedragon @snowycrocus @tare8chan @localarendellian @wabitham @roostercrowedatmidnight @aries1708 @tare8chan, @just-your-local-history-nerd, @dontrunintofirexoxo @daphmckinnon @poketin I hope I tagged all of you! Thank you all so much for your comments and reviews. And thanks to those who took the time to answer if I should explore Elsa’s past in more detail. This chapter is a transition one, but it was necessary to explain a bit more what is going to happen.

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goodnightkisseu · 5 years ago

Text

Chae Hyungwon - Love Contract

→ pairing: hyungwon x reader

→ genre: angst(?), demon!au

→ word count: 5514

→ warnings: a couple of curses and slaps are thrown, but nothing major

→ summary: in a world where making contracts with demons is the norm, through an unfortunate event, you find yourself working for Chae Hyungwon, a demon that specializes in love contracts...

→ masterlist // monsta x masterlist

note: so this fic was the one that I had planned for Halloween, but ultimately didn’t post at the time. It’s based off of a dream I had about Hyungwon, and honestly, in writing it out, it’s gotten a bit out of hand and lengthy ^^”” There is a very strong possibility of a part two for this (the Hyungwon muse in my head is already campaigning for it) but please let me know what you think about it! Let me know if you would like a part two! Enjoy~

- ash <3

It was a relatively easy location to find once you knew what to look for. The building was tucked away, down two narrow alleyways and across a small street. Each of the suites was filled with a tiny office, doing different businesses that ranged from accounting to large prints. However, this particular business was unique. It was the only one in the three-story building that was opened later than five in the evening.

Taking a look inside, any individual would have thought it was just a typical office. One desk was situated to the right as you entered, a spot where someone working the front desk would have sat, though, the area looked like it was vacant. To the left was a small seating area, furnished with dark pieces and a glass table, all for the clients that would visit. In the back was a door that led to the only independent office in the entire space. Though the furnishings were lovely, filled with clean wood finishes and the most delicate leather, the room was very... average. The strangest thing about the office was probably the reddish glow that started to envelop the space as the sun fell past the horizon.

Though the atmosphere was strange, you knew you couldn't back down. You came here intending to see the owner, and you weren't going to leave until you did.

Yet, the moment you entered the office, you couldn't get over how eerily quiet it was. No one came to greet you, and for a moment, you thought the office was completely empty. You were about to back out of the office when you heard the door in the back open, revealing a tall figure. Your attention was instantly pulled towards the slender individual, his strides long but slow. As he came out from the darker areas of the office, you finally got a good look at his face. It was a handsome one, one of a young man, stoic in expression. It wasn't a face you would see on any average mortal, and that was when you knew you had the right person. This was the man your friend had spoken about through her tears.

"What brings you here?" he asked. The male gave you a once over before his eyes settled on your own. "Are you here to form a contract?"

The mention of the word 'contract' was an instant reminder to the sole reason why you were there. You snapped out of your trance, looking at the male before you with a fire in your eyes. "No. I would never form a contract. However, I do want to talk about a contract that you formed with someone else."

This seemed to pique his interest, evident from the way he quirked his brow. "Oh? What's the offer's name?"

"Her. Her name is Mijoo. She said that she came here about a month ago and made a contract with you..."

The male nodded. "Yes, I remember her love contract. She told me that she had been distraught over her boyfriend. His feelings for her seemed to be wavering, and she was aware that he was cheating on her. She wanted a contract to try to get him back. I believe that the timeframe she said she needed was... five weeks? If she fails, then she offers her soul up to me."

Your hands balled up into fists as you heard him talk. To him, to this man, no, this creature, before you, this topic seemed so casual. However, for people like you, for mortals, these types of contracts and decisions held a much higher cost. One that a demon, like the one that stood before, would not be able to grasp. For them, whatever their client gave up in return was just a plaything. They didn't think the way that you did, and that's why you could never make a contract of your own with one of their kind.

Even so, many people made contracts with demons. They were a common occurrence in your culture, a part that you couldn't indulge in. Some would use them to get ahead in life, while others used them to wish harm to their enemies. Others still used it on things like love. Each contract came with different stipulations, of course, and there was always caution that should be observed when signing these contracts. Some demons were more truthful than others, though; those that were blinded by greed didn't care. It was something in your society that you abhorred. Everything was already so delicately balanced. These contracts just skewed everyone's ethical compass. Yet here you were, trying to reason with a demon nonetheless. You needed to do this for your friend. You needed to save her.

"She said that your contract doesn't seem to be working. Ever since she signed it, her boyfriend has been more detached. He doesn't even come around anymore. He spends days away from her and doesn't even try to pretend like he loves her anymore. Mijoo is... she's afraid that she won't be able to get him back."

"Then, if she can't do it, she will have to give me her soul three days after her designated timeframe. This was what was agreed upon in our contract," he said simply.

His nonchalant answers frustrated you, and without meaning to, you lost your temper with him. "You can't just take Mijoo's soul away like that! Your contract isn't working. Everything she expected, the opposite is happening. You signed a fraudulent contract with her, didn't you? This is the only reason why it wouldn't be working!" you countered. You knew that you were challenging a being that was much stronger than you, but if he hurt you, then so be it. At least you would have ended it by trying to help someone so dear to you. Mijoo was all you had.

Though you had started to raise your voice, the demon before you, peering at you through his raven-black locks, remained calm. "This is not a fraudulent contract. I have given your friend everything she has asked for. My agreements provide the signee with the power of persuasion over the person they name. That power should help her get her boyfriend back," he explained. "However, if persuasion is not working, it can only mean that this girl, the one he is cheating on your friend with, is the one that genuinely owns his heart. No degree of dark magic can help her if this is true."

"But how was she supposed to know whether she could win him over or not? His infidelity has been stressing her out so much that she couldn't think straight. You shouldn't have let her sign the contract."

He shook his head. "I asked her several times during the process if she truly believed that he loved her. I asked her if she knew that this would work. Your friend said that without a doubt, it was possible. It was her own fault that she didn't know her lover's heart could not be tamed."

His matter-of-fact words made your blood boil. You knew that he was right. You knew that he had done everything he was supposed to do before signing this contract with Mijoo. He didn't seem to use any trickery on her, but you were just so mad at the entire situation. You were angry that he wasn't even going to try and help. You were furious that the only person left in your life that cared about you, was about to disappear. Out of rage, your body moved on its own. You raised your hand, and as that fury overtook you, a slap resonated through the silent office. You had just slapped the demon before you.

Yet, even though the blow was hard, and his head was turned from the force of the hit, he slowly turned back to face you. And once again, those same cold onyx eyes peered deep into your own, which were filled red with rage. "Are you done?" he inquired.

You had expended so much energy through your fury that you now felt helpless and limp. Your body collapsed to the floor in exhaustion, and as the waves of anger were washed away, they were replaced with someone else. Grief. Tears streamed from your eyes and pooled on the floor before you, your sobs incontrollable. "Please... please, you can't take her away from me. Mijoo is all I have left in this world. She means so much to me..." you muttered.

The demon closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. Though he had dealt with many different cases of heartbreak over the years, they never got more comfortable. This one was particularly difficult because he knew he couldn't do anything about it. "I cannot go back on our contract. Once it has been signed, it has to be fulfilled. Your friend's soul will be mine once her three day grace period following her timeframe ends."

"However, there is one small thing I can do for you, to help alleviate the pain," he started. He watched as you gently lifted your head, your swollen eyes looking up at him through your hair. "Souls are kept here until they are ready to be delivered to the Collector, who stops by once every other week. As he doesn't come by often, you could, in theory, be here to see her off. I will not stop you."

"You'll... you'll let me stay here?"

"Yes, but it will not be for free," he stated, watching as your brow furrowed in confusion. "My receptionist is gone, and I am in desperate need of a new one. If you can work for me for a month while I start looking around for a different one, then you can see Mijoo off to the next part of her journey. You will be compensated for your troubles, of course."

Still in shock by the news, and knowing that you couldn't help your friend any further, you knew that being here for her was the best that you could do. So in response, you gave him another nod, the tears still flowing around you. It was something you couldn't stop, but at least you would be given closure…

Even though you had only agreed to stay for a month, years later, you were still here, working at this office. You never thought that would be the case, though. You were angry with the demon, whose name you learned to be Hyungwon, for a long time. That first week working together had been hard. He expected a lot of you, making sure that everything was correctly filed, that appointments were properly booked. Through your hatred, you had made it all very difficult on him, a way of rebelling against someone that you knew you couldn't overpower. Yet during that entire week, not once did he lose his temper with you. Hyungwon either asked you to fix the mistake, or he changed it himself.

As the weeks passed, your anger simmered down. A lot of that had to do with Mijoo herself. When she found out that you had taken the job just so you could help her forward, her heart hurt. She knew that there were bigger things that you wanted to do with your life, but to put it all on hold for her... she realized what type of situation she put you in. Her acceptance of her short time left came quickly, and as she grew to accept it, so did you. Hyungwon was right. The best you could do was accompany her in her last few weeks, make sure that she had good memories to take with her. Ultimately, she gave up on her boyfriend and spent the last of her time with you before the Collector came and received her soul.

At that point, you should have left. You had only meant to stay and have that last moment with your friend. But in working for Hyungwon, in seeing what his job actually comprised of, something about it made you want to stay. It was because you started to understand the nature of his work.

Sure, the act of creating a contract was something you still despised. You weren't sure if you would ever get over the idea of the types of terms that went into a contract. You were learning, however, that not all arrangements were as bad as you had expected. Case in point, the ones that Hyungwon dealt with. The reason people came to Hyungwon for these types of arrangements was that his deals ran a slightly different course than most demons that dealt in human love.

General love contracts were, at their core, lust contracts. They would allow a client for a minimal price to enjoy a pleasurable evening with their chosen individual. It gave humans the ability to have a night of fun with no repercussions, and once the night ended, the price was paid. It was an easy way for demons to sign multiple contracts in an evening, mainly if they worked for someone higher up.

Hyungwon's contracts were different. Rather than providing temporary lust, they endowed his client with the power of persuasion. This power allows them to entice another individual to be with them. His contracts aimed at a longterm bond between two individuals, bringing them together for as long as they saw fit. However, with such a strong ability meant that the contract stipulations had to be more substantial. It required the client to designate a timeframe in which it would take them to entice their partner. If by the end of this timeframe, their ability could not grab ahold of the designated person, they had to pay the price, usually with their own soul.

Admittedly, from what you had seen, many of Hyungwon's contracts actually ended well. Most that came to him were already in love and were just looking for a way to ensure that their lover would stay with them. Others that came were couples that wanted to enforce the longevity of their contracts. Where things got a bit tragic were the remaining lot. Those that had a one-sided love. Those that wanted to be in love, but couldn't. These were usually where his contracts fell through.

And with time, there was one other thing you learned that was the most significant hindrance to his contracts. True love. Though it was rare that someone's soul would be taken for this last reason, you had seen it happen on a handful of occasions... including Mijoo's. In Hyungwon's words, 'no form of persuasion can take a heart away from what it truly wants.'

As your hands shifted the papers on your desk, organizing them into the piles that you had grown so accustomed to making, your ears picked up on the gentle chime of your phone's alarm. Slowly, you stood from your desk, papers shuffling as you did so. You made sure that none disappeared into the hard to reach recesses before you grabbed your phone and headed into the kitchen. Before, this area had only been home to a single hot water heater and some tea leave containers. With much convincing from you, it was turned into a full-fledged kitchen. Besides, you even managed to persuade Hyungwon to get a beautiful tea set, mostly as it was for him anyway. He liked having tea at precisely nine every morning. You never asked why. It was just something that you had grown accustomed to doing for him.

When the tea finished steeping, you moved it onto a tray, along with a matching teacup before you headed over to your boss's office. You gently tapped on the door with your knuckles, and the moment you heard an equally soft response, you took it at your cue to enter. Placing the tray down on the nearby table that you had placed there for this exact reason, you opened the door before picking it back up and heading inside.

"Morning tea?" you inquired gently, though, at this point, you both knew the answer. It had been years of this same routine. You placed the tray down on the corner of his desk before you proceeded to pour him a cup.

Hyungwon's eyes peered up from his papers, his hands lightly placing them down. His gaze lingered on you momentarily before he looked at the tea that you were handing him. "Thank you," he said, bringing the drink to his lips and blowing on it. "I noticed that you were in earlier today. You don't usually get in before I do..."

You gave him a small smile, remembering the slightly surprised look on Hyungwon's face when he entered this morning. It was rare that you got much emotion out of him, but lately... lately he had been opening up to you a bit more. You were quite enjoying it if you were, to be honest. "We had a busy day yesterday. I didn't have a lot of time to organize everything properly. And since a certain someone like to keep everything in paper form, it always takes a bit longer to make sure that it's all neat and tidy. So I came in a bit earlier today to get that all squared away before our new day starts..."

Hyungwon chuckled. "It's an old habit I can't get rid of."

"All of your colleagues have switched to digital documents. I heard Minhyuk making fun of you for being the last one that still has paper contracts."

Hyungwon took the opportunity to take a sip of his tea as he listened to you. Ah, you had made the spring oolong. It as his personal favorite. "Well, if you would like for things to be easier, you are more than welcome to go and work for Minhyuk."

At your boss's suggestion, you couldn't help the way that your face scrunched up. "I'm okay, thank you. I also don't think I quite fit in with Minhyuk's line of work..."

He looked up at you, amused by your reaction. "Do you prefer it here, in this boring office that does things the traditional way?"

"First, I never said it was boring. I do like how quiet it is here, though. And sometimes we do good things for people too," you confessed, eyes picking up on the way that a smile spread across Hyungwon's lips. You had yearned to see his smile more often as of late. It always had a way of making your day just a bit better.

"Well, I'm glad that you're here. You make this place a bit brighter," Hyungwon admitted, his eyes meeting with yours momentarily before he lowered his gaze back to the papers before him. "We have some follow-ups today, don't we?"

You gave a small nod, mind trying to pull away from the way that Hyungwon looked at you, and instead focusing on the tasks for the day. "Today isn't nearly as busy as yesterday was. I think there are only a few today, about three or so? Of course, this doesn't count new clientele that might show up..." you said slowly. "Will you be heading out to meet with them?"

The male at his desk nodded. "Going to see them in person is the most efficient way. Please do me a favor and let me know the order that I should see them in. I can take care of the rest," he stated, watching as you gave him your usual eager nod before you excused yourself, heading back to your desk.

That afternoon had been a quiet one for you. Typically if Hyungwon were there, you would at least hear the sound of rustling paper. But when it was just you, the office was eerily silent. You kept yourself busy, of course. The time alone allowed you to organize the rest of the paperwork from yesterday, filing them into the correct cabinets. You took some time to tidy up the little seating area that you had furnished, where all of his clients sat and waited for him. Hell, this time alone even allowed you to go through some loose paperwork that the two of you had, getting them correctly filled out and put away. Once all of that was done, you were just left to your own devices.

Though you didn't like to admit it, you had grown dependent on Hyungwon's presence. Losing Mijoo had taken its toll on you. Your best friend was your last tether to anything that even resembled a family. Without her, you had no one to turn to. You felt lost in the months following her passing. This job became the one constant in your life, and that was likely another reason why you stayed.

Having Hyungwon there as a constant also helped. You had grown fond of him, which was something you had never admitted out loud. You paid particular attention to his little reactions towards you. Your heart beats a little faster every time he complimented you. None of these hinted at anything more, at least you didn't think that it did. Though, your relationship with each other was a strange one.

You were jolted from your thoughts when you heard the small bell that you had hung on the front door ricochet off of the surface, the resulting sound far more cacophonous than you were used to. The noise sprung you right to your feet. Though you were up and at attention, you hoped that nothing dangerous came through the door while your boss was out. Much to your luck, maybe, in strolled a woman. She was a bit older, likely the age that your mother would have been if she was still around. She carried herself with an extreme amount of poise, though right now, her expression was anything but regal. It was actually rather harsh.

"H-hello, may I ask why -"

"I'm here to see that asshole, Hyungwon. Where is he? Bring him out to me this instant," she demanded, her voice getting louder with each statement.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but he isn't available at the moment. He's actually out attending to some business. However, if you could wait, or maybe come back in half an hour -" you started, but once again, you were rudely interrupted.

"Listen, you sorry excuse for a secretary, and human being, didn't you hear a single thing that I said? I told you that I want to see him now. I don't care what he's doing. Bring him out. Now!"

You could tell that she was seething, just on the brink of exploding. And while it scared you, you were also upset. Not many humans opted to work with demons. Though the formation of contracts was typical, those that worked for them... were usually seen as morally questionable. There was definitely a stigma there, and she just had to insult you with it.

Riled up with your own emotions, you were about to speak up, trying to remain professional. However, before you could make any efforts to calm the woman down, the front door opened. You dreaded what would happen if it was another potential client, your mind not able to process how to handle the situation. Instead, much to your surprise and relief, the person that walked in was Hyungwon.

"I'm here now, so I would really appreciate it if you stopped yelling at her, Mrs. Yang. She had done nothing wrong," he said calmly. Momentarily, his eyes met your own, and he moved his head to the side, gesturing for you to sit back down. He could tell that you were hesitant, but you eventually did as he suggested.

The woman let out a dry laugh. "No, you're right, Hyungwon. This girl human girl that you managed to entice to work here has done nothing wrong. This is all because of you! Everything that has happened is your fault!" she screamed.

"Please, Mrs. Yang, my office," he said calmly. You could tell that she was about to explode, about to lash out at him right there, in front of you, but she didn't. She obediently followed Hyungwon into his office, the door swiftly closing behind them.

Though you knew that Hyungwon could handle himself, you couldn't help but be a bit worried. As they argued back and forth in his office, you couldn't hear his responses to her, but you could definitely hear Mrs. Yang. She was screaming at the top of her lungs. She said that his contract was unfair, that it didn't work the same way that her contract with him had. The woman called him a fraud and said that he was just like every other lowlife demon that made a living off of humans. You couldn't hear the words that followed, but what you did hear was what happened after. A cry of anger as a hand made contact with flesh. Twice.

You winced at the sound, knowing this reaction well. You had experienced it while working with Hyungwon on several occasions, and it had been your own reaction as well. Still, you stayed where you were, knowing that he wouldn't want you to rush in there. If anything, he had requested that you never rush into his office, in case the situation was far more dangerous than anticipated. Though you had agreed to his request, lately, it hurt your heart to do so.

Moments later, the door to Hyungwon's office swung open as Mrs. Yang stormed out of it. She threw you a glance on her way out and simply said, "If you can get out and find a better job, I suggest you do so. Working for a demon like him will only pull you down to their level, sweetie," before she promptly left the building.

When you were confident that she was gone, you slowly rose from your desk and headed towards the kitchen. You grabbed the first-aid kit from under the sink. You ran a towel under some water, and you grabbed another one to wrap around an ice pack. With supplies in hand, your quick steps carried you into Hyungwon's office. You didn't knock this time. There was no need to do so.

The male sat calmly at his desk, going over the paperwork that lay before him. He seemed unbothered by the significant red mark that now tainted his sculpted face. It wasn't until you found your spot at his side, hand gently turning his head to face you that he made any movement at all. The moment that the cold ice pack made contact with his heated skin, he let out a sigh, hand reaching up to hold it in place so that you could tend to the rest of his injured face, cleaning up his split lip. He didn't say anything and instead allowed you to tend to his wounds like you usually did when a client got physical.

A few years back, you had inquired about his lack of resistance towards his clients. It was on a day much like today, while you were cleaning up his bruises. "When a contract doesn't work out, their hearts end up broken. They have to live in a state of immense grief for a few days before they forfeit their souls to me. That's more than enough pain for any human, don't you think?" he had asked, and you supposed there was truth to his statement. It wasn't often that clients lashed out, but whenever they did, Hyungwon always told you that it was unavoidable. They were all aware of the power he held, and this was their small act of rebellion, knowing that they could never actually best a demon. Hyungwon always let them do it, and you could tell he did it because he didn't want to harm others.

"It's going to bruise badly this time," you told him softly, brows knitting together as you saw how swollen it had gotten, even after having the ice pack on it. You gingerly took the ice pack and placed it on the desk, your boss letting out a light breath.

"It's nothing that time won't heal," he replied nonchalantly. "The pain is only momentary."

"Why was Mrs. Yang so upset with you? I've seen some angry people leave your office, but no one quite this angry..."

"Two months ago, Mrs. Yang brought her daughter in. Mrs. Yang had formed a love contract with me many years ago after meeting her current husband, and they've been together since. She thought that I could help her daughter, as well. Nana was a kind girl, very different from her mother. There was a man she was in love with, but he had no idea that she felt that way. I had warned them that a love contract based on a one-sided love was tricky, but Mrs. Yang insisted. Nana's timeframe was two months," he explained.

"Today is the last day of those two months. Unfortunately for her daughter, it seems like the man that she loved has already found another. Her persuasion did not sway his heart, and now she owes me her soul in three days," Hyungwon added, knowing that this story would resonate with you. He saw you nodding gently as he spoke, and sometimes, he wished that you didn't have to bear that pain either. "It's regrettable as she was such a kind girl. She had a lot ahead of her, and it was a mistake to sign that contract..."

"Sometimes, everything is done with the right intentions... but the outcome is unexpected."

"Like with Mijoo," he pointed out, seeing you nod in agreement. "Granted, I do recall you hitting me pretty hard back then as well."

You knew that Hyungwon had brought up the memory, not as a way to berate you for your actions but to try and make you smile. The two of you had long since worked past that issue. A chuckle left your lips. "Well, it was before I understood how your business works. I was probably just as angry as Mrs. Yang back then. It's hard to see your loved ones have to pay for a mistake, but also have no recourse for it…"

"Tell me something," he started, ready to ask the question that had been gnawing him for the last few years. He had been itching to ask it, but never got the right opportunity to do so. "Why did you stay? Back then, I had only suggested that you work until Mijoo moved on, but even after all of that time, you're still here. You could have left."

Hyungwon's observation was correct. Nothing was keeping you at this job. You could have left, found a job like any other average human, at a typical office. But that wasn't what you wanted. Was it okay to tell him that now? After almost four years? You figured you could take the chance. There was no harm in it now.

"This place... it has a painful memory for me. But isn't this job more painful for someone like you? Someone that has been doing it for so long?" you asked.

Hyungwon gave you the smallest smile. "I don't know if I quite feel things in that manner anymore..."

"Even so, it's still a lonely job," you insisted. "I guess I stay because both of us are rather alone. We don't have people to turn to. I thought that we could be that type of company for each other..."

Your eyes had been fixated on your hands that sat squarely in your lap. These were never words you ever thought you would utter to Hyungwon. Yet, you could feel his eyes on you, burning an intense gaze into y our form. Though you hesitated, you slowly looked up, your eyes getting lost in those brilliant dark orbs. Those beautiful eyes that held an eternity of pain, eyes that had a great depth to them. It was his answer that ultimately pulled you back to reality.

"As a demon, I don't seek that type of company, I'm afraid. Not anymore."

His words hit you hard, though you expected no less from Hyungwon. "Then consider that your companionship is of benefit to me, Hyungwon. It helps to calm my loneliness," you told him, bringing the conversation to an abrupt end.

Slowly, you moved to your feet, picking up all of the medical supplies from his desk. "We should probably close the office for the day. I don't think that you're in a presentable state for new clients. I'll go and make sure that everything is locked up. I hope that you have a pleasant rest of your day," you said, giving him a faint smile before you disappeared from his office.

However, what you didn't know was that for the first time, since you had started working for Hyungwon, he allowed his eyes to trail after you. He allowed himself to watch you leave. And at that moment, he felt that sense of loneliness that you spoke of...

#monsta x #hyungwon #chae hyungwon #monsta x scenarios #kwritersworldnet #monsta x imagines #hyungwon scenarios #hyungwon imagines

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adrischrv · 4 years ago

Text

REGNUM [L.H] -Chapter 8

Summary: In a dystopian future, a tragedy leads Prince Luke to become King of Gardenstone. From her neighboring kingdom Maredale, our protagonist Amberly must choose between King Luke and King Ashton of Lauxwell to close the alliance that the three kingdoms are destined to make. In the process and after, Amberly will encounter mysteries, a love triangle, and betrayals that will define her future. (Basically, enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 4,246

MASTERLIST.

The next day I arrived at the stable on time, not wanting to argue with Luke anymore. Fortunately, years before I had had the whim of raising my mare back in Maredale, a whim my mother fulfilled on the condition that I take care of her. Although limousines and cars are quite common, all three kingdoms have moderate amounts of them and therefore it was easier to acquire a horse. I took care of the mare I called Mer, there were nights I spent finishing a book in the stable with her company and mornings I left the palace early to ride on the beach before the people woke up. I hoped they were taking care of her at home. All the knowledge I gained with Mer had been used to wonderfully caring for the five horses in the stable.

Michael arrived in the middle of the hayride. He explained that he had heard the workers say that my work in the greenhouse had been splendid and how happy that made him already. He also told me that he now lived one floor below me, which explained why I´d seen Lidia come up and down more times than usual that morning.

I told him about the gloves, Luke, and accidentally Ashton. Something clicked in his head that he didn't bother to share, he simply asked me not to worry. He immediately left under the excuse that he had some very important business to discuss with the King.

The days went by quite quickly. My routine was the same for a week: waking up, getting directions from Michael, going down to the greenhouse, pausing for food, and going upstairs at night. I was working desperately to fix the greenhouse and was increasing the speed and time I spent listening to Calum speak for his Jhin about movements on the border.

The girls in the kitchen gave me the lost information they were hearing and I slowly connected the narrative. There were going to be three major events in the next few weeks: a campout in the town of Mudtry, the Birch Celebration that was typical of Gardenstone, and another unnamed event for the time being. The information on the last one was very little but it existed; it would have guests from all three kingdoms so it earned its place on the list.

Ashton and I went out every weekend. We traveled around the palace exchanging thoughts, ideas, and the occasional kiss. We weren't a couple, but something that didn't know the difference between naivety and love told me we weren't far off. His company... just felt good, fair, and free.

I was going down to the kitchen to start today's work. I knocked a couple of times on Michael's door and no one answered so I walked around hoping to find him on my way. Said and done, as I entered the kitchen I saw him leaning against a counter enjoying an apple. He was wearing a suit, it wasn't common for him.

“Why so formal, boss?” I asked, taking an apple from a basket next to him.

I understood the reason for his location in the kitchen when the servants rushed past him.

“Thank you for noticing. I must say that your comfortable attire is much better than the dresses you wore at first, it made me nervous," he joked and pointed at the servants with the apple he kept eating. “I dress like this for the same reason they do; Luke woke up wanting to travel to Lauxwell for a few days; they're preparing his trip and I will be in charge of the not-so-important stuff while he is away.”

“What about Calum?”

I poured two glasses of orange juice, he took one and thanked me with a nod.

“He'll stay here and take care of the more important stuff, which I won't do. Luke asked that no one should accompany him but a few guards.”

“Why is he going to Lauxwell? I thought he hated the place as much as its residents.”

I looked through the conversations with the girls in the kitchen; they didn't mention this trip once. It had been sudden for everyone, even for Luke himself.

“To spend time with Lauren," he replied casually.

I quietly drank the rest of my juice. Spending time with Lauren? She had been here as long as Ashton, I didn't see them talking once and suddenly he wanted to spend time with her. Not just any time, time alone. That's why he didn't bring company.

“Wow, are you okay?” Michael interrupted my thoughts, thanks to the sea. I nodded. “I lost you for a moment, is it because of Luke?”

I took the glass to the sink and started to wash it.

“In a way, not having him around for a while sounds like a vacation. I will count and appreciate every second.”

I wanted to keep digging, to find out what Luke would be doing at Lauxwell and why he had decided to go "spend time with Lauren" all of a sudden. There was something that Michael wasn't telling me, he wasn't telling me anything. I stopped my tongue from asking, interest in the subject would only boost Luke's ego if that was possible.

“I think you're doing a lousy job of hiding whatever it is you're feeling. That brings me to what you will do today.”

Michael pulled at my waist, dodging the servants who were going back and forth on their way to the west wing of the palace. We climbed a few stairs, this wing was noticeably emptier than the rest of the palace, it seemed like it was night plus the few windows were open. I recognized the beginning of the corridor we were heading down, we passed Luke's office.

“You and I will take advantage of His Majesty's absence these days and do what you should have done from the beginning, your real work.”

We kept walking until we hit a wall, it had paintings of different trees and flowers on it. Michael ran his hands over the wall until he found what looked like a brick that had come out, pushed it and the gears started working, leaving the spiral stairs insight with the sides illuminated.

“Come on, ladies first.”

I advanced and we began to go down the stairs. Judging by the look of the structure I could tell that they were using it constantly and it didn't seem so secret.

“What will I do, exactly?” I asked, not encouragingly.

“Maredans who crossed the border are here to formally present their needs, concerns, and so on. I had Calum bring them over before Luke was awake, now I owe that bastard a bottle of the finest wine in Greenbush.”

We got to the top of the stairs and I noticed we were underground. Michael opened a door that led out into a very wide hallway, on the other side he opened the door again to a room with people sitting inside, families, elders, Maredans waiting for answers. At the end of the rows of people, there was a desk and next to it a guard guarded the place.

“This is a secret between you and me, understand?”

I smiled broadly and held back the urge to embrace him. I noticed tears forming in my eyes.

“Wait, you said that we will both take advantage of the situation, what will you do?”

He smiled.

“Bring more people, of course. I trust you will take enough time with each person in this room, however, we will see as many citizens as possible so that once Luke returns you can spend another week in the greenhouse without worrying about them... your people.”

I nodded repeatedly.

He took one last look at the room and opened the door.

“Michael," I called, making him stop. “Thank you.”

“It's nothing," he smiled.

I never believed that what people tell you about time passes more quickly when you do what you like is true, but attending to the Maredans and listening to them proved me wrong.

Most didn't come for lack of work in Maredale but to discover the magic and potential of Gardenstone. It was very rare for people to leave their kingdom with what they had become accustomed to in their own homes, what a nice irony. I didn't blame them, sometimes even your own house is too small if you fill it with dreams and hope.

Michael kept his word to bring people. We provided housing and work for those who needed it in Greenbush where Michael would have them all under his care and helping out in his vineyard as his employees. One family or another asked for the possibility of having businesses in the capital of Gardenstone and we had to put them on hold because it was very risky for Maredan businesses to rise out of nowhere near the palace but we promised to help them when we could.

No one-not even Ashton, who was constantly being asked to postpone appointments-knew what we were doing. For the first two days, we went unnoticed by everyone around the palace, our main concern was that Luke would arrive in less than expected. The "expected" was getting more and more confusing for me. I avoided thinking about the whole situation between Lauren and Luke, right now I had to take the employment contracts I had collected today to Michael... even though the matter was hidden and always bothering to be attended to behind my back.

“...You know you can't do that. You can't tell him, it's not your place.”

It was Calum coming out of a door followed by Michael with whom he had a heated conversation. The Duke gave Calum a knock when he saw me in front of them.

“Princess, what a surprise!” he exclaimed.

The man shivered, throwing a transparent bag on the floor. I reflexively squatted to return the bag to his hands. I looked at its contents for a few seconds; a gold ring was inside it, this one had a hole right in the middle with diamonds embedded around it; it was missing a stone.

The bag was taken from my hands before I could say anything about it. Calum looked at Michael angrily and even a little terror crept into his brown eyes.

“We'll discuss this later, Clifford. In the meantime, don't do anything stupid," Calum looked at me sideways, not a trace of joy or his characteristic sympathy. “Your Highness, Duke, excuse me.”

He apologized and went on his way in a hurry. Michael stood still, looked at me once when Calum was out of sight, and snorted cynically.

“Come on, start your interrogation," he said as if he had known me all my life. He pointed to the door through which he had left moments earlier and we entered a strangely empty office. Nothing but the basics in it. Then he closed the door behind him. “I'll spare you the first question, we are in King Robert's old office.”

“Why? I was looking for you... “

He took the papers. We stood in the middle of the room, I thought it was disrespectful just to be here, but judging from the look of the chairs he hadn't sat here either. We shouldn't be here.

“Calum called me, what you saw in that bag is evidence the investigators collected from the great hall. It was analyzed all this time and they can't find the DNA of the bearer..." He came over to the desk, stretched out two photographs of a rope cut in a part of the palace I didn't recognize. “It was right under this rope, I'll let that clever head of yours guess what it cut off.”

I blinked a couple of times, puzzled.

“The chandelier.”

The same chandelier that ended the lives of Queen Susan, King Robert, and Prince Jake. What all this time seemed like an accident had been orchestrated.

A chill ran through my body. The person who had wiped out most of the royal family was still outside, could be anywhere... could be anyone.

“That's right, it wasn't an accident. And not only that," Michael walked slowly through the office, "I'm sure and I could swear by the Forest that I've seen the ring somewhere before. Perhaps the person who committed this tremendous atrocity decided to rob the Royal Jewelry store moments earlier. We came here to find a jewelry box that my mother gave to my aunt - to Queen Susan on her last birthday but it's not here.”

“Of course not, this is an office. You must look in her room.”

He snapped her tongue and crossed his arms a few steps away from me.

“We did, it's empty. Calum had to bribe a couple of guards to get us into the royal room. What did we get? Nothing. We lost three weeks of beer.”

“No, I mean the Queen's other room. The one that's only hers, not the one she shared with the King," I replied, running my hands over my elbows, trying to relieve the tension. “It will probably cost you a year's worth of beer, but you can always tell Luke.”

The Duke burst out laughing as if he had told a pretty bad joke that ended up being good.

“Discarded at all. He must not know, not now…”

Luke knew nothing about this. I realized late, very late, that I was hearing about the royal family before the King himself.

My impression must have been noticeable on my face, Michael realized, he came over to reassure me.

“Don't be afraid. The King doesn't know... What's wrong with that, right?” he laughed nervously.

I sighed, I was seconds away from hyperventilating. “Why doesn't he know?”

If I thought the punishment for slapping Luke was going to be bad, then keeping secrets from the kingdom was going to be much worse.

“Hey... hey... “ Michael whispered, I felt my heartbeat increasing its volume second after second. “You needed to know, at least this I had to tell you…”

“There's more?!” I exclaimed, covering my mouth. “Michael, I'm sure there are at least thirty reasons why this is wrong... “

The shaking of my arms was muffled at the touch of his hands. They felt rough but helped to calm me down for a second.

“I can't tell Luke. I prefer to keep my reasons to myself. But you can…” his closeness was comforting to the extent that he spoke. “You will tell the King.”

I opened my mouth to deny it when the slamming of the door hit Michael. The figure who came in knew we were talking about him the moment he did.

“Your Majesty," Michael said, "What did you think of Lauxwell?”

I couldn't tell if the cold that flooded the office was coming from a window in the hallway or coming from Luke's presence. His jaw tightened, his cold, sharp gaze fixed on the closeness between Michael and me. I gently slid away from the Duke, leaving a considerable distance.

“What are you two doing here?” he asked, his attention focused on Michael.

“Your Majesty, you haven't answered my question.”

“Bad, horrible. Lauxwell doesn't... need Gardenstone” Luke responded by interrupting Michael. His words were like knives. “Now respond.”

I saw Michael out of the corner of my eye. I forgot my panic at the sight of him in his eyes. I was hoping - we were hoping for a clever and quick excuse to get out of his mouth so that we could avoid all possible topics. If Luke found out what we had done with the Maredans - or that he hadn't been working in the greenhouse, or that his parents had been killed... Nothing good could come of this.

I held the photographs tightly in my crossed hands behind my back, made mere balls of paper into my fists. I didn't know why Michael didn't want to tell Luke what he´d discovered seemed the least logical thing to do, but I was going to keep it a secret and trust his words. I had nothing else to do anyway.

“We wanted to be alone for a while.”

Michael responded. The silence lasted for millennia.

“It is a crime to lie to the crown, cousin.”

Luke still didn't look at me, my presence had never bothered him so much.

“It's true," I said. “We needed to talk alone about the job and the place was lonely.”

I didn't lie, it was true. My hands began to sweat between the photographs.

A more unsure, choppy sigh came from Luke. He heaved aside, leaving the path clear.

“Out, then.”

I left the office first, Michael walked behind me. Luke held him at the door with one hand.

“Thank me for not telling Ashton about this... it's not wise for you to get into trouble with two kingdoms, cousin.”

Michael swallowed his saliva at the... Warning?

Luke let him go, following him at every step like a prey.

“Oh, another thing," we turned to Luke's voice, he was speaking to his cousin but loud enough for his words to reach my ears. “Send a woman... the prettiest one you can find. Lauxwell stressed me out a lot. I'll wait in my quarters.”

I wasn't surprised at all.

Lidia was across the room holding my sleeping clothes when I came in, throwing the crumpled pictures on my bed as I closed the door.

“Amberly...what happened? The girls in the kitchen say a lot of things.”

I fell in the middle of the bed carelessly crushing the pictures. The stress and tension of moments before were just a few moments away from flooding me.

“Ask, do it,” I muttered covering my face with both hands.

I felt a weight next to me. Lidia was sitting on the bed, her facial expression full of doubt.

“They said that His Majesty King Luke found you and the Duke in King Robert's office, may he rest in peace.”

I rested my elbows on the bed, raising my head a little to look Lidia in the eyes.

“It is true, but we didn't do anything wrong," I said quickly, feeling her relief. “I would never do such a thing to you, Lidia.”

She nodded with a sideways smile.

“I wouldn't blame you, I'd be crazy not to prefer a princess to a maid," she raised a hand in silence when I wanted to protest. “Wait, there's more. One of the girls is dating one of the guards who accompanied Her Majesty on her trip to Lauxwell. She said nothing happened between him and Her Majesty Lauren. Pure business.”

"Lauxwell doesn't... need Gardenstone," Luke had said. Maybe it was true, it was nothing but business.

“How nice," I replied, rejoining the bed. “I... it's…”

Lidia gave me the clothes to sleep with a chuckle.

“You don't have to answer everything, not now. Take a breath, Amberly, you need a distraction…”

Someone knocked on the door. I forgot the situation I was in for a moment.

“There it is, just in time." Lidia laughed as she walked to the door. “I promise to entertain your lover as much as I can. Use what I gave you.”

I looked at the garment in my hands, it wasn't my sleeping clothes. A mint silk dress with a "V" neckline was what was in place. I whispered a "Thank you" to Lidia in an act of complicity.

Ashton's fingers cautiously untangled from my hair as we parted for air. I brought my right hand to the cheek of the black hair who sank into the caress, putting a genuine smile on my face, I barely could see his.

The moonlight above us added certain intimacy. The flowers and trees around the blanket we placed on the lawn covered more than we expected.

I was straddling him. My dress and his dark green suit without so many wrinkles- worth mentioning. I ran my index finger across the bridge of his nose, Ashton closed his hazel eyes.

“I like your nose..." my finger stopped over his mouth gently. “And those naughty lips of yours…”

He laughed, even with his eyes closed. One of his hands caressed my partially uncovered back, an electric sensation ran through my whole body.

“It would be a pity if my features were unpleasant for my future queen…”

I returned my hand to my lap, my hunched posture changed to the right, and my smile... My whole face was unemotional because of the impact of his words.

Ashton noticed the tension that slipped through my body, opened his eyes, and straightened his posture, both hands embracing my waist.

“Wouldn't you like it, Amberly? To be the queen of Lauxwell?” he whispered in my ear, a warm and sensual tone. “I´m dying to see you on a throne beside me.”

I burst out laughing nervously. The closeness of our faces barely allowed me to hide the surprise.

I´d thought about it, I knew that the talk would come eventually, especially with so many unserious political conversations on previous dates.

Did I want to be the queen of Lauxwell, to leave my place in Maredale and Gardenstone to reign alongside Ashton?

“I... there are so many things I want to do…”

“To be an ambassador for Maredale here, for example?” he asked amusingly. “Please, we both know the position is too small for you.”

“But it's mine.”

His face - his beautiful face - was stiffened by my words. He blinked twice trying to process what I had said and spoken before giving me a chance.

“Yes, and so did your title of Princess. You can move up in that case, to be Queen.”

“I'm a princess because my mother has a kingdom, Ash," I interrupted, he didn't like it. “Being an ambassador I got it, I did, and you encouraged me.”

“I did, but I didn't expect you to be in an office your whole life," he said. “Or do you expect Luke to promote you to 'something else'? Is that it?”

The abrupt change in attitude caused me to get up without warning, Ashton imitated me. I looked for warmth in his eyes, a sign that he didn't mean all this.

“Answer me, Amberly," he spoke loudly, "Do it.”

I took his face in both hands, it was beginning to boil with anger.

“What's wrong with you?” My concern went unchecked. “Of course I don't want Luke to do that, if it were up to him I'd go down from my post to... pick up dirt from his horses.”

“This is no time for jokes. You don't want to be the queen of Lauxwell but Gardenstone sounds more appealing?”

I put my hands on his chest. I convinced myself and hoped that decreasing our distance would stop whatever we were doing.

“What does Gardenstone have to do with this? It's not even an option.”

He walked away from me, there was no warmth in him anymore. His eyes were glowing with a challenge.

“What's an option for you, then? Luke?” he continued, speaking quickly, angry in all his glory. “It seems so. He almost slit his beloved cousin's throat for finding you together in the office.”

The air got stuck in my chest, Luke had said he wouldn't tell Ashton. Unless he had regretted it.

“I heard, Amberly. Everyone in the palace knew about your impromptu meeting.”

I felt pain in my chest, I had never seen him like this before... at least not with me. I had to fix it. Something in all this was wrong, I just didn't know-how.

“It wasn't what you think, nothing happened…” I stepped forward, he didn't flinch. “I can't explain to you what was happening because even I don't understand it.”

“And that's not suspicious? You expect me to believe that they were talking innocently?” He laughed mockingly. “Over the mountains! No one in a million years would settle for that.”

I let go of the air I was holding back. Something in me... no- my cowardice wanted to explain everything and cry. But inside, deep inside me, there was fear, and there was also something in me that was asking me to make things right for once.

That "something" fired the fear, or put it to sleep for a second, and left me with that princess who couldn't put a zipper on her mouth.

“You'll have to. Listen, I don't plan to be an ambassador all my life... crown or not, caring for and protecting my kingdom comes first and I will do it at all costs. You told me to take a chance and I did. These are the consequences.”

He was silent, watching like an emerald owl from the darkness.

“I have to go, I won't leave Lidia up late," I bowed. “See you, your majesty.”

I turned around, holding back the desire to go back in time and stay in the caresses of a while ago.

“Amberly," he called, I turned around again. He kept that dominant air. “Answer my question.”

I sighed, I wanted to move but my feet were stuck in my position.

“Although I am flattered by your proposal, I cannot give you an answer. Not today. Not after... this.”

I waited for him to say something, to forgive me- that he would run quickly behind me and turn us in circles as he kissed my face.

It didn't happen.

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keeperofhounds · 5 years ago

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Lost in the Blizzard (Chapter One)

This is another story that I’m working in the Tangled Fandom. I, of course, don’t own Tangled and make no profit from this. Enjoy.

There are forgotten legends when it comes to magic but one is still very well known. One about a which from the Land of Ice and Snow who rules over the land. All the people lost in the blizzards are hers but she especially loves children. Now she has set her eyes on a new treasure.

Once upon a time, there lived a woman, we don’t know what her name is or what it was when she was nothing more than a regular woman. For you see her true name has been lost to time through heartbreak and long years of loneliness her story only a small part of a larger story. One of love, adventure, and mysticism. For it was she who created the events that led up to the journey.

Depending on where you go around the world the origins of the woman differ some say she was girl cursed with the powers of ice and snow, her powers slowly consuming her until she was nothing but an empty shell. Others call her a demoness from another dimension who takes from our world with the power of her blizzards, striking so suddenly that the lost can never be saved. Others say that she was once a mother who had lost her children during the winter to the elements and driven mad with grief, she lost her life searching for her children in the blizzard. When she finally lost her battle with nature her spirit continued to search for her dead children.

While we can never truly know what happened to make the woman of this story there are somethings that we do know. She is a woman whose heart is as cold as ice, with hair as black as night, skin as white as freshly fallen snow, and powers as fierce as the blizzard storms she can conjure. Her powers where so fierce in fact she was unable to ever leave her realm of ice and snow for if she did then she would surely lose her power, no she was most powerful in the winter.

Then one day a wizard had appeared in her land, he was a frail and pathetic thing who had always wondered the true fate of those swept away by the blizzards now he knew. When he went to her ice palace looking for shelter the woman said: ‘Tell me stranger do you what happens to those who trespass in my land?’

To the wizard the strangest think about the woman was not the power that she exuded but the child who followed her around like a shadow. The child wore rich blue clothes to that of royalty with a crown made of ice like of the Queen's design, although strangely enough, they did not wear shoes. They would talk to the Queen calling her mother and vying for her attention which she gladly gave. However, despite the seemingly warm response from the Queen, the wizard could not help the foreboding feeling in his heart. The wizard replied: ‘No, your majesty I do not for this is a strange and far off land indeed. A land where there seems to be no spring, summer, or autumn only an endless winter. Pray tell what does happen to those who trespass?”

‘Men like you who wander into my home have but only two options,’ the Queen pointed out the window where the Wizard spotted what he could only assume were statues. ‘you can either become apart of my garden or,’ she points further away to a beast not quite a horse, ‘you could be a beast who shall pull my carriage.’

Neither option sounded appealing to the Wizard to either become an ice statue or a mindless beast forced to trek the endless tundra. That is when he was struck with an idea, knelling down to gain her favor he said: ‘Your majesty my talents would be wasted if I were to become such things but if you allow me I can create for you a window to see beyond your realm of ice and snow to new and more exotic realms.’

This caught the Queen's interest no one had ever given her a proposition such as this and while she would never trade her home, she was often curious about the worlds her children often came from. Seeing no reason why she could not humor the Wizard she spared his life with the promise that if he were to create this “portal” she would also give him a way back to his home realm. Once the deal was made the Wizard set off to work.

To create his promised object he needed metal, which the Queen pointed him towards a village at the base of the mountain. When he arrived after a day’s journey, he was shocked to find that the residents weren’t human at all. While they spoke and worked like humans such as himself, they were Polar bears. When he told them of his plight and of the deal, he made the chief said: ‘I must warn you stranger take the other options for any gift you give to her will surely be ruined by her own hand.’

Put off by the warning the Wizard asked the chief what he meant by that: ‘If you want to truly understand only look at her children.’ The chief would not say anymore but at the man's insistence gave the Wizard the precious metal he asked for to create his gift. As he worked, he kept the chiefs warning in the back of his mind every time a curious child came to watch him work. As their unnaturally blue eyes watched him pound into the metal, they watched as he carved the runes into the metal to create the spell.

There was something wrong with the children, but he didn’t care much for them other than himself. If they were lost there was nothing, he could do about their current situation it was even possible that they were living better lives than their previous ones. Even if he wanted to do anything for them the was nothing he could do against the Snow Queen. It was simply not his problem.

When the month ended the Wizards, the gift was complete when he presented it to the Queen, she received what looked like a simple silver mirror. He said: ‘To activate this mirror you must only think of what you want to see, and the mirror shall show you what you want to see.’

Listening to the man’s instructions, she walked to the new mirror hanging in her throne room she touched its reflective surface and pictured one of the locations her children previously described to her before they decided to stay with her. The reflection rippled and became distorted showing her a forest clearing with different animals that the Queen herself had never seen before. This pleased her greatly it seemed that the man had done exactly what he promised. Now it was her turn to fulfill her end of the deal.

Walking towards the man she held out her hand and said: ‘Give me the sharpest item in your possession.’

Put off and wanting to return home the Wizard gave her his sharpest knife one he used to skin wild game during his travels. Yanking the knife from his hand the Queen gently rubbed her hands against the worn steel covering it with ice using her powers. Once it was completely enveloped the ice broke but in its place was not the same dagger the Wizard had given her. In its place was silver dagger encrusted with blue gems, handing the knife back the Queen said: ‘Only think of where, who, or what you want to go too and slash the air then you shall be able to go home.’

The Wizard took the knife gratefully and did what the Queen instructed that was when he found himself home in the little cottage in the woods. There he lived the rest of his day peacefully putting the realm of ice and snow away from his thoughts. Not once did he think of the children he left behind and not once did he think of their fates. The Wizard just simply continued to live his happily ever after.

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“Daddy?” Varian asked as he leaned against his father for warmth. He was very put off by the story, it didn’t seem very right with how things ended. The young boy had expected a fight for the Wizard to free the realm from the Snow Queen or even a trick to get the children away, but there was nothing of the sort only one man getting a happy ending.

Quirin, his father smiled warmly at his son, “What is it, son?” He had just told his son about the story as it was the only thing they could do while the snowstorm was happening outside.

“Why did the Wizard do nothing for the children or the people?”

“Because he didn’t know how too,” Quirin said. “Personally, I think this story is like the myths about the sun and moon gods’ ways to explain the natural world around us. In this case, it explains why there are surprised snowstorms like this and why some people get lost in these storms.”

Varian yawned, it was getting very late and the fire in the fireplace was slowly dying down leaving nothing but embers. Yet, Varian tried to put on a brave front for his father he was four years old and he was a big boy. He didn’t need his daddy to carry him to bed.

Quirin, on the other hand, knew better, he slowly stood up making Varian face plant onto the cushions of the couch. He put his hands under his son’s armpits and gently lifted him from his seat, sometime between then Varian fell fast asleep his soft breaths ticking against his fathers’ neck. Not wanting to wake his son up Quirin slowly and quietly took Varian to his room where he placed the boy on the bed and tucked him in. After making sure that Varian was fast asleep Quirin brushed a hand over his sons’ forehead and planted a soft kiss on his forehead, “I love you son, sweet dreams.”

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It had been ten years since that night, now Varian had grown older but not necessarily wiser. A teenager who spent all his time inventing and working for the good of his village. That isn’t to say that whatever he invented always worked with them oftentimes exploding instead of actually working. These failures did little to curb Varian’s inventive spirit instead pushing him forward to work harder although always after he finished cleaning the mess he made. Currently, this wasn’t one of those times.

“So, Ruddiger what do you think about the mirror?” Varian asked as he examined the results of his latest experiment. It was not technically anything new, but the process of making the mirror was fascinating although the cost of the materials actually made the entire endeavored worth it. The only difference to his experiment, when compared to other manufacturers' mirrors, is that he forgoes the mercury amalgam normally used to create the mirror effect. Varian hoped that by using his new method that poorer citizens might be able to afford mirrors rather than only the rich fellows.

Ruddiger chittered at his friend’s newest creation being captivated by the raccoon trapped within. No matter where he went the strange raccoon followed and when he went to greet the stranger, he still couldn’t reach them. To say that Ruddiger was impressed would be a lie despite Varian’s denial the mirror really was something of magic. It was a nice break from the black rocks that normally took the boy's time.

Ever since Varian came from the science expo (and Ruddiger was properly introduced to Rapunzel and Cassandra) he had been spending his time searching for a solution for the rocks plaguing his village. Answers were not coming easily to the boy as they seemed impervious to tampering but that did not stop Varian from at least obtaining information. Right now, he had the chemical makeup of the rocks which he was confident that no one else in all of Corona had. While he would normally be over the moon and inform his father of the results, he promised the princess to keep any information about them to himself.

Although in recent weeks the promise itself seemed very pointless when factoring in the amount of trouble they were causing, destroying homes, ruining crop yields, even disrupting trade between villages. While this was normal in Old Corona (except the disrupted trade) with Varian as a resident for such damage to not be caused by the leader’s child was just unusual. These rocks couldn’t be cleaned up, destroyed, or removed which was a massive change for the residents.

When thinking of all this it was only natural that Varian tries to curb his more ambitious projects if only to save people the stress if they go wrong. It was sort of strange to him that he wasn’t the cause of so much destruction considering that it seems to be naturally forming. That was his first hypothesis anyway until he saw the rocks react to the princess more specifically her hair.

Ruddiger chittered bringing Varian back from his thoughts about the rocks. The mirror was supposed to be a break for him nothing serious or messy but enough to take his mind off the current problem. He thought that by giving himself a break he could think up fresh and new ideas in dealing with the problem. The only reason why he thought to make a mirror was because of how one could see their reflection off the rocks. It was silly he knew but it was better than nothing.

Looking at the clock Varian realized how late it really was he should have been in bed hours ago. Placing a blanket over the mirror he gently hulled it to his room with Ruddiger close behind him, the mirror wasn’t very heavy but the size of it made it awkward to carry around but at least anyone looking at it would be able to see their entire body. Varian placed it next to all the other experiments and inventions around his bed being mindful of the delicate piece. Once he was satisfied with its placement, he turned to get ready for bed.

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Varian did not know how he found himself in the middle of a snowy wood. One minute he had nodded off in the warm confines of his bed with Ruddiger and suddenly he was in the middle of nowhere seemingly lost. He shivered as the cool breeze bit into his bones running through his thin pajamas causing him to wildly look around for any possible shelter. There was none. It also did not help that he was forced to walk barefoot in the snow causing him all sorts of pain and discomfort, he hoped that he was able to avoid frostbite. Hands wrapped around him, he turned to figure out the best direction he could go.

His surroundings gave Varian an eerie feeling, no forest should ever be so quiet and still. Yet this is where he found himself, there was no sound of animals foraging for food. There were no winter birds filling the silence with their wild songs. It was as if time itself was standing still throughout the area. That’s when he heard it, the song.

It was a beautiful song the likes of which Varian had never heard before. It filled the eerie silence with a charm that Varian could not ever hope to describe filling his very being with a want to find the origin of the music. feel a wave of emotions all at once. Happiness, sadness, he wanted to try and laugh at the same time these emotions were so strong that Varian forgets the bitter cold. He wanted to know who was playing such wonderful music.

Trudging through deep snow Varian followed the music as the snow crunched under his bare feet. As he followed the music Varian looked at his surroundings other than the music there was no life in sight although that was to be expected of the weather. The trees were nothing of likes he had ever seen before looking as if they themselves were made of ice. While others looked of simple pine with the green of their needles clashing with the white of the snow. That is when Varian saw a break in the woods.

Eyes widening in excitement Varian dashed towards the clearing, but not before stopping himself and shyly hiding behind a pine tree. He could not understand what was happening to him normally he could confidently walk up and greet anyone he set his mind to. He did it to Cassandra. He did it to princess Rapunzel. Yet why did this woman make him feel so strange and childish?

The woman delicately strummed her crystal harp making the strings strum softly, it was the most magical thing Varian had ever heard. She was seated in what he could only describe as a bench made of ice under a gazebo also made of ice. The woman herself looked like she would be royalty with her skin as white as snow, and hair as dark as night her clothes looked extravagant and very expensive with a white glittering dress under an icy blue cloak. Varian gulped nervously he wanted to greet her so much so that he gathered himself and took a step towards her.

CRUNCH!

Varian winced somehow stepping through the snow was too loud overpowering the soft music produced by the woman with the harp. He ducked his head in shame as the music came to an abrupt halt at his intrusion, he hadn’t wanted to upset this stranger by ruining her song. However, to his surprise there was no annoyance or reprimand at his intrusion only worry at his current state, “My poor child,” she said walking towards him, “look how cold you are! Come sit with me here so that I may keep you warm and so that you may continue listening to my music.”

Varian’s heart lifted at her words and while he did not quite understand what she meant about the cold he timidly walked towards the bench. As he walked the woman resumed her playing never giving him much mind even when he leaned against her shoulder in fact, she encouraged his behavior stating that being close to her would only make him feel warmer. He was feeling very warm and comfortable now.

While he listened, the woman introduced herself to him, “My child I am the queen of this domain but to all my subject I am known as the Snow Queen and who might you be?” At first, Varian tried to remember what his father taught him about giving his name to strangers before he rationalized that as she already gave him her name it was only polite to give her his. He did this and more answering her questions with complete honesty. She got him to tell her about his life in Old Corona and all the inventions he made even the ones that exploded. She seemed especially interested in him which he didn’t mind as he hardly had such attention from any adult let alone his own father. Suddenly he let out a yawn, his eyes felt very heavy all of a sudden.

As he tried to keep himself awake the Queen abandoned her harp, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. “Shhh, you must be very tired now.” She softly petted Varian hair combing her fingers gently through individual strands. “Varian did you like your visit with me?”

“Yes, I did very much I loved it,” Varian said snuggling into her mantle.

It seemed to be the answer the Queen was looking for because she hugged him harder, “Good because I would love for you come again, visit my lovely home, maybe get something warm for you to eat and drink.”

Varian nodded against her shoulder to visit her again would be a great opportunity for him. He gave her his word that he would do just that the next night before finally losing his battle to sleep. As he slept the Queen continued to pet his hair.

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Ruddiger couldn’t believe his eyes when it happened one minute his boy was sleeping peacefully under the covers of his bed before an eerie song was heard. At first, the raccoon thought that he was only imagining the song as there was no way such a thing could ever happen in his boys’ own room. That’s when Varian moved, but even then Ruddiger did not believe that Varian was in much control over his actions at the time. As the music filled the Varian began to stir in what Ruddiger could only assume was an annoyance at the music.

When Varian got off his bed Ruddiger simply watched as the boy walked towards his new mirror. Now that Ruddiger knew what he knew now it should have been obvious that something was amiss, even when the boilers were underground causing havoc Varian was still able to sleep through the night. There should have been no possible way that soft music would have awoken Varian from his sleep. His first clue of something amiss was Varian’s movement, walking as if he was being led by someone or something towards the mirror.

He assumed that is was the dark as humans did not have the same things raccoons as he had which was night vision. It was when he saw Varian’s reflection in the mirror that the raccoon panicked, his eyes were glowing but with none of the warmth, they looked to be in a haze, blanker than paper. When the boy started to walk into the mirror that’s when Ruddiger dashed towards his friend, while he had little idea of what Varian did, he did know that a mirror shouldn’t do that. However, he was too late to follow Varian through as Ruddiger got a pain in his head for all his trouble.

That is when he was presented with a choice, he could go to the boy’s father and try to tell him what happened to his only son. While Ruddiger was confident in his ability to communicate with humans he doubted that even he could describe what happened to a man with such a seemingly low opinion of him. The other was to wait until Varian came back because that was all he could hope for, hope that his boy was okay and that he wasn’t hurt or in pain wherever he was spirited away too. After what felt like hours the mirror started to change creating ripples and distortions on the reflection.

The first thing that came out was a familiar arm, then a familiar leg this continued until Varian was back in his room. Ruddiger chittered in relief and excitement his boy was safe and that what mattered to him, yet there was something different about him the raccoon didn’t know what, but he felt that Varian wasn’t the same. The raccoon tried to get Varian’s attention, but the boy ignored him instead of heading straight to his bed and burying himself under the covers. Ruddiger followed jumping onto the bed and snuggling into his boy, fast asleep as he should be and most importantly safe.

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Meanwhile, the Snow Queen had enjoyed the time she spent with her brand-new treasure the boy was everything she loved in children. His eyes were just her favorite color matching the blue ice often found in glaciers, yet they held such warmth and wonder for the world. She loved the splash of freckles on his face, and his dark soft hair which fell over his forehead. What she especially loved about the boy, however, was the amount of love he put into everything.

She had watched him for a very long time although she would admit that she became interested in him after the first few failures of his inventions. What made her continue observing was the love she saw Varian put into his work just by seeing him continue working with alchemy. Even while watching the boy she noticed that he was always alone working in his lab. When he would talk to his little pet he would talk about his inventions and how they work as if it could answer back to him.

Varian practically projected all of his emotions, the utter want for approval from his father and the other villagers. The admiration for the former thief that saved a princess and a woman who wouldn’t pay attention to him until he impressed her. The boy has wasted with all those people none of them gave him what he wanted or needed, in fact, they never seem to do anything with him unless he initiated the interaction.

The Snow Queen wanted that; she wanted those eyes on her she wanted to feel the boy’s admiration on her as she could do everything for him. She wanted him to pay attention to her. Ever since she got her mirror the Queen could afford to be pickier with the children she took under her care before she had the mirror it was always a chore to wait for a blizzard the weaken the lines between their realm and her realm. She wouldn’t always make it in time and often times the children froze before they went into her realm it was a shame, but it was a reality that she accepted. They wouldn’t have survived long anyway.

There was no doubt in Varian’s ability though, she could just tell that he would be her most valuable treasure.

#Snow queen au #my stories #my fanfiction #fanifiction #varian #ruddiger #quirin #tangled #tangled the series #rapunzels tangled adventure #Part One

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prongsisabadger · 4 years ago

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Songs for the Heartbroken: That’s What You Get

AO3

FF.net

Prologue.

What is the scariest thing in the world? If people say whatever first comes to mind, we would probably end up with answers like heights, spiders, or maybe even death; but there are definitively things in this world that are scarier than that. The ones I particularly find most terrifying, are people. Of course there are different types of people that are terrifying in their own particular way, but here, I'll only write about one of them.

People who love. This might sound a little stupid to some but bare with me and allow me to explain. The word 'love' has now lost its essence from the amount of times we've heard it said with astonishing lack of sentiment. But I am not referring to an eleven-year-old's version of love when they first confess to their crush; nor am I speaking about those words guiltily spat between ground teeth or stuttered in the spur of a moment for lack of a better thing to say. I don't mean those many whispered 'I love you's of someone who just cheated on their significant other.

No, what I fear is much more profound, raw, animalistic even. What I feat is a person who disregards their own life in order to whatever or whomever they love. Those people have a purpose and will do anything to see it through. Just like a parent protecting their child, a soldier fighting for a cause they believe in or anything that can inspire such passion in a person's heart that the consequences of their actions go beyond one's imagination. People with a mission and the will to lay down their lives to accomplish it; those are the people who scare me the most. It's men and women with this kind of drive and determination who bring down nations, who are able to destroy anything in their path; capable of building relationships, entire lives and tear through them with savage violence and not an ounce of hesitation.

But the most frightening part of it is not what they are capable of, it's the fact that you never know who they are until its too late. You might have known that person your entire life and never had contemplated the possibility. Anyone can be one of these people, one of those who love too much; and you'll never know until it's too late, not even if that person is you.

That is the moment these people will stun you the most, when you find that you yourself are one of them, unsuspicious even to your own consciousness, until you realize that you would be willing to do the unthinkable to protect what you love. When you realize, that after all, those things that once seemed so terrible are not anymore, and that if it means safety, then you don't mind doing them anymore. Not even if it means you will lose your humanity in the process.

I have only seen such drive in someone other than my brother and me, and it took me quite some time to realize it too. I knew Shisui and I were special in some way other kids in the clan were not, that was at least until I met Itachi. The heir to the Uchiha leadership seemed like nothing special when we had first been introduced, he was serious, pensive even beyond what would be considered normal for a four year old. Even I with the extensive training (it was extensive, ok? Cut me some slack I was four) I had been put through at that tender age, was not as stuck up as he was. Turns out it wasn't because he felt superior to others, as most people outside the clan thought, he was just very insightful and preferred to assess the situation before taking part in it.

His father, the Uchiha clan head Fugaku, was insanely proud of him, and he had reason to. Itachi was a prodigy in every sense of the word, excelling in every ninja art at a very young age and showing more promise than any other child in Konohagakure no Sato. But what no one expected from the quiet prodigy, was the fact that he was one of these people; one of those who love too much.

My childhood had been good enough considering the times we were living in. I had grown up within the safe walls of the Uchiha compound, caging me in for six years until I would be allowed to enroll in the academy, keeping me from seeing much of the village and even less of the world. Not that this was uncommon, after all I was a child; but it was at that young age that life started shaping itself around me, and events that would be shaping my future, started taking place.

"But onii-chan, I already practiced shuriken jutsu and kunai this morning! Why can't you teach me more taijutsu?"

Ah, the innocent, peaceful days when my only concerns were regarding my training. For some reason, even if I was a spoilt brat most times, my brother managed to somehow keep his cool; he was good with children like that, even if he was only two years older.

"Akane, your taijutsu is nearly perfect; you're the only one who could give Fugaku-sama's son a run for his money. Your other skills need honing too, you know?" I pouted. I used to do that a lot back in the day, so much in fact that Shisui had become immune to its effects, unlike our grandparents.

I took the weapons basket my brother handed me and once again, turned to face the target hung on the sole sakura tree in our garden. It had become a routine with the passing of the years, after our parents died in the war, Shisui had decided to take my training upon himself; since our grandparents were too old (and in my oba-chans case, too reluctant) for the task. So ever since I could stand up straight, Shisui had attempted to give me the knowledge he had acquired over his few years ahead of me. So far, he had been succeeding, and with my upcoming entrance exam in two years and Shisui's eventual graduation, we tried to spend as much time together as possible.

All of this led to a very strict training schedule we followed almost religiously. Before Shisui left for the academy, we would do a series of stretches and warm-ups, followed by our daily morning spar. And when I say spar, I mean a four year old attempting to pose a challenge to her seven year old brother. Anyway, Shisui would leave for class after breakfast and a bath, and I would get stuck with obaa-chan and the chores for the rest of the morning. Cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, doing the futons, I hated it all; but I did it without complaining or slacking off for obaa-chan's sake.

After that, I would help jii-chan at his shop in the Uchiha district market. He was a blacksmith, one of the best among the clan, and I had always loved watching him turn raw iron into the fine pieces of art that were considered his blades. Most customers were members of the clan, but every now and then came people from other parts of the village; and since I rarely stepped out of the compound, these were the most interesting days.

The bell hung on top of the front door chimed, snapping me out of my reading induced trance; I marked the page I was reading and put the book under the counter. Chakra control was a very important part of shinobi lifestyle, and I'd taken to read it's theory after a rather long rant Shisui had gone on after being under graded at the academy. The chunin sensei had obviously been in the wrong, so I was determined to, when the time came, point this person in the right direction and avenge my brother. No one looked down on Uchiha Shisui without facing the wrath of his younger sister, ever.

I let go of my still unborn plan for vengeance as I saw one of my favorite cousins enter the shop.

"Obi-niiiiiiii" I screeched as I jumped down from the stool behind the counter and made my way to him as fast as my short legs allowed me.

I only stopped a few feet away when I saw he wasn't alone. Embarrassing Obito-nii in front of his friends would not do. I would have loved to force the air out of my cousin with all the force a four year old could put into a hug, but apart from embarrassing him, I would put a blemish in the spotless name of the Uchiha with such childish behavior. So before I could give jii-chan a reason to scold me, I bowed down at the waist and tried to put the best impression of 'shinobi Shisui' on my face.

"Obi-chan, Onii-san, Onee-san; welcome to Uchiha Fuko's armory. What can I do for you?"

The girl behind my cousin cooed as silently as she could to try and not hurt my pride; while the silver haired boy simply acknowledged me with a slight bow of his own. Meanwhile, Obito smiled proudly and held his held high, probably showing off, with a light blush on his cheeks.

"Mah, Akane-chan, no need for formalities, this is just my team. This is Rin, and The gloomy bastard is Kakashi, I call him Bakashi though, It's more fun that way." The last part he whispered, shooting me a cheeky grin.

My cousin had always been quite easy to read, but the fact that a four year old could tell he was extremely pleased, spoke volumes. When Obito was pleased about something, he tended to boast, a lot; thus providing me with a semi-reliable information source; one just had to know where to look. That was how I came to know they were due another mission the next day, which delighted me in a way only Shisui knew. I had always been almost morbidly interested in anything shinobi, so this new information summoned a wave of curiosity and enthusiasm that I could only just hide.

"So you need more supplies for your new mission, is that right? Should I get your usual order of kunai, shuriken and fire conducting wire? Or will you need something else? I heard things are getting rough out in the battlefield."

I tried to hide my curiosity as best I could, Obito might have been a bit naïve, but I had heard about a silver haired prodigy before, and didn't want to get caught red handed trying to collect information. Thank goodness, he seemed to think I was interested in the subject, or at least making polite conversation; because he gave no signs of being onto me. Meanwhile both Obito and Rin looked amused by my 'playing adult' and had bright smiles on their faces as well as their full attention on me.

Ever since I had first started speaking, I'd found that different words and expressions, got different reactions out of people. Shisui, being the ideal shinobi trainee, had wasted no time in helping me hone that skill. He said information gathering and manipulation were key abilities for a shinobi to have; but that should only be used on the enemy. Of course, being a four year old, my 'enemy' was whoever happened to have what I wanted. In this case, Obito-nii and his team.

Obito put his hands on his knees and crouched to my height in order to address me. I, on my behalf stood straighter at attention, like my brother had told me when being addressed by a superior.

"That, Akane-chan, is classified information." he said slowly, clearly with the intention of letting my brain take in the new word; but I had been in the same room as my brother when he studied, it wasn't completely foreign to me.

I nodded rapidly and took a step back to address the other two, obaa-chan would have my head if she heard I was impolite to customers; and she would sure flip if she knew said customers were friends and comrades of the Uchiha.

"Rin-san, Kakashi-san, were you two looking for anything in particular? Our shop has quite the reputation for our work with chakra conducting metals." I said and made my way behind the counter to look for my cousin's usual order.

I struggled a bit with my yukata when I tried to climb the ladders and reach the top shelves behind the counter; but I managed to avoid breaking my neck and look at least a bit like I knew what I was doing. Traditional clothes were very restricting, when movement was concerned, but it sure looked good on a shopkeeper.

"That's the reason we are here actually, Uchiha-san. Both Kakashi and me are in need of chakra conducting blades." Answered the girl politely, the gleam of amusement still present in her eyes.

The other boy, on the other hand, who I was now certain, was the last member of the Hatake clan, stood silently to the side. He was eyeing up a tanto that was being displayed on a shelve to the side. He had a good eye, if I was being honest. The blade was not just beautifully decorated, displaying a wolf pack in the hunt on the side; but it was also of the finest quality my jii-chan had ever been able to make.

"I am no expert in that specific area," I said climbing down and placing my cousin's order on the front desk. "Would you please excuse me while I fetch my grandfather?"

When the lone kunoichi nodded, I smiled as sweetly as I could. Turns out Fuko Jii-chan was done with his orders for the day; so when the customers left, with their personal needs satisfied, I was allowed to go home and wait for Shisui.

In the afternoons, my brother would tell me about the lessons he had had that day or even a story if he had one about his classmates or teachers. After that, he would oversee my chakra training for the day. On this special discipline, I struggled more than was considered appropriate for a member of the Uchiha clan. Shisui worked hard to encourage me and hide his concern, but even if I was four, the disappointment whenever the leaf fell from my forehead, was still present in my eyes.

I tried really hard not to get discouraged, my brother was making a huge effort, and giving in to despair would be like throwing it all away. I didn't care if the clan thought of me as a disgrace; I just wanted to make my brother proud, to make him acknowledge me as a capable individual, someone worthy of being his sister.

I panted hard, trying to regain my composure, as my brother sat cross legged in front of me; leaf still firmly chakra-bound to my forehead.

"Nii-san, this isn't working!"

I wasn't trying to be ungrateful, not at all, but there was clearly something I was doing wrong; and it wasn't only compromising my training and hindering my development, it was making me a burden for Shisui. I never wanted to burden my brother, ever.

"Maybe Obaa-chan is right, maybe I'm no good-"

"Nonsense" Shisui never showed his frustration, not when it came to me; but for some reason, whenever I mentioned the issue with Obaa-chan he seemed really bothered by it. "If you want to be a Shinobi; that is what you will become. It makes no difference if you develop slower than everybody else in the clan. You will not be a career bride if you so clearly don't wish to."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before standing from his place on the training ground floor.

"I don't care if I have to train you myself. We will make an outstanding kunoichi out of you, Akane-chan." Shisui offered me his hand with a tired smile and waited for me to take it.

I couldn't help but hug him once I was on my feet. I knew he meant every single word he had said, he always did; and the fact that he so clearly had my future in consideration, showed me just how much he cared, and how lucky I was.

"Thank you Nii-chan, you are the best."

Shisui smiled right back at me and crouched, offering me his back. It had become almost a ritual; whenever we would be done with afternoon training, Shisui would give me a piggyback ride back home.

"Everyone deserves to live their own lives the way they want to, to make their own decisions and learn from their mistakes. No one is the same, Akane, and even if you don't agree with them, you should respect the path they have chosen."

The usual buzz surrounding the main road in the Uchiha compound was noticeably absent as we made our way through; it was to be expected since business was a lot less in the evenings. Very few people could be seen roaming around, and the few shop keepers that usually worked late were now closing up their stores.

"what if someone makes a bad decision, Nii-chan?" I asked quietly, noticing that I had no need to raise my voice above a whisper for him to hear me. The atmosphere around us was very calm and gave off a sense of warmth and comfort that I didn't want to break.

"Then you can do nothing but accept that it is the path they have chosen for themselves; and that they will have to face the consequences no matter what. Just make sure you never enforce those consequences out of spite, anger or vengeance, Akane. If someone has to atone for their sins, then let yourself be guided by your sense of justice."

Not entirely sure about what he had just said, I decided to just nod and let my head rest against his shoulder. I would later in life realize what he had meant back then; when friends and family would turn into criminals if only for a series of bad decisions.

#fanfiction #naruto #uchiha #oc #itachi uchiha #naruto uzumaki #deviation from canon #shisui uchiha

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sunshineandfangs · 5 years ago

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Klarosummer - Waterfall || Taw'um Alruwh

@klarosummerbingo

Warnings: some violence and mentions of Damon’s abuse of Caroline. Nothing graphic.

Caroline fluffed her curls, getting them to sit just right as she stared into the water’s reflection. Some would consider it impractical to trek all the way out to the Falls to fix her hair, but...

The young blonde bit her lip. But there was something about what she saw when she looked into the water. She saw herself, of course - and maybe it was just some odd light refraction illusion - but she always thought what she saw appeared a little more confident. As if the version of her in the water was just a bit stronger and wiser.

Whatever, so it was a little silly, but it wasn’t like she was hurting anybody. It was just the town legends getting to her, that you could see your true self in the Falls.

The chime of her cellphone pulled her out of her thoughts. 7:25 its clock announced cheerfully, and she knew she should get going. Caroline gave her hair one last pat and winked at her reflection.

“Wish me luck with the other brother, kay?”

She whirled around, heading back toward school, a slight bounce in her step.

Caroline Salvatore had a nice ring to it, didn’t it?

---

Her chest screamed in agony, and she couldn’t process if it felt like it was burning or freezing. If it was being crushed or split open.

Her breaths were ragged and wet, the taste of copper on her tongue. Was she dying?

I don’t want to die!

She whimpered, the words only sounding in her head, her lips twitching uselessly.

The roar of the falls was in her ears and still the formation of the rocks funneled his voice to her.

How could she have ever thought she wanted that-that monster.

He was laughing at her. As if her death was amusing. Crowing about how she took care of his cleanup for him. Why it wouldn’t even be an animal attack. Just another sad teen suicide.

Her tears were burning against her face that was rapidly going numb and cold.

I don’t want to die...

---

Caroline had lived a very long time. Centuries upon centuries. Long past anyone she had come to care for, human or supernatural. They all left her in the end, either taken from her while she was elsewhere, by foolish enemies that would pay for their crime thrice over, or by their own will, wishing to take their final rest.

She didn’t begrudge them that, though it made her existence rather lonely. Loves had come and gone. Friends and partners and companions. So, selfishly she took the most comfort in herself. Catching glimpses of the other lives she could have led.

Never though, had one cried out so strongly that she could hear them.

The voice was young, so young, and dying. Dying while having barely lived at all.

Caroline frowned, unthinkingly reaching out to the dying girl, and to her surprise, she fell through the water.

---

“Hello, Caroline.”

She blinked rapidly, unsure how she had gone from dying to...whatever this was. There was nothing but blackness and one other figure. And she forgave herself for her no doubt idiotic expression considering said other figure was herself!

The other her smiled, looking a bit amused. And Caroline bristled at the apparent condescension. She opened her mouth, about to snap something rude, but they read her irritation and their expression became a bit apologetic before smoothing into solemnity.

They spoke hurriedly before she could.

“I wish I could better explain things to you, Caroline, but you don’t have much time. Your body is still dying and once it does you’ll lose this opportunity to choose.”

“Choose? Choose, what?” Caroline’s brow furrowed, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “Is this like Harry Potter?”

They looked momentarily confused before recognition sparked. “I suppose that is somewhat accurate, yes. Unfortunately you cannot return. You are human with no magic of your own, I am sorry to say that you’ll just pass out again and die. Truly, this time.”

Caroline frowned, the hope she hadn’t even realized was blossoming crushed in her chest. She crossed her arms, glaring at them. “Then, what? You’ll go?” She meant it sarcastically, but at the slight shift in the other her’s face, she shrieked. “What, is this body snatchers?!”

“No, our bodies will swap places. Mine is not human and will survive the process, while yours will be destroyed.” She spoke quicker, cutting off Caroline’s indignant questions about what the point would be then. “Your soul however is strong enough. It will be able to pass through.”

She was still confused and frustrated. “But you just said that your body will be going to where I am.”

“There are infinite versions of you Caroline and infinite worlds for them to inhabit, as is the case for everyone. Your soul will find its best match.”

Appalled, Caroline retorted, “I’m not going to steal someone’s life!”

The other her stepped closer, expression soft and a bit proud. “It won’t be theft. Two souls can’t occupy one body, wherever you end up, that version of you will have already passed on. Now, I understand this must be a lot for you to process and it’s a momentous decision, but you’re almost out of time.”

As if her words were a signal, the blackness surrounding them seemed to crack and shudder.

Panicking, Caroline began to ramble, words tripping over themselves. “Okay, okay, so like second chances. You go to me. I go to like some coma patient version of me or something. And no one gets hurt? They’re already dead. I’m basically almost dead. And-and you’re whatever you are?”

“Yes,” they nodded.

Caroline ran shaking hands through her hair and took a deep breath.

I don’t want to die.

---

The ancient woman kept her eyes closed through the journey, though she felt her arrival. Water and rock and blood suddenly assaulted her senses where there had been unnerving nothingness before.

With the last connection she had with that odd nexus of worlds she sensed that the other her had also arrived safely. She even got the impression that good things awaited her.

Good luck.

Even as part of her was wishing the other version of her well, the rest of her was processing the events that had occurred in this world. Perhaps, it was a bit duplicitous of her to not have warned the young girl that she would get a semblance of her memories, but she didn’t want to be clueless. And there had been no time to offer the necessary reassurances.

Standing up, Caroline squeezed the water out of her hair, absently noting she would also need a change of clothes. Above her, the cackles of some obnoxious young vampire cut off.

He flashed down, severely invading her personal space as he stared wide-eyed at her.

“That’s impossible!” He spat. “You were dead.”

Caroline’s lip quirked. “For centuries now,” she drawled.

He spluttered. “But I compelled you! You were just some useless, weak little girl!”

Her amusement quickly faded, events the girl herself hadn’t known had happened flashing through her mind.

Expression dark, her arm shot up to crush his throat.

She had no tolerance for rapists.

He dangled in her grip, weakly clawing at her arm as he choked. She contemplated tormenting him, the type of suffering she could bring down on his head.

But then she thought of the girl he had assaulted and chased to her death. The happiness that girl now had an opportunity to have. Recalled ancient memories of her own beast of a husband. The being she had become after her friend defied nature to help her. And she decided she and the girl both deserved better than to dwell on this cretin.

“Feel fortunate,” she told him. “You’re not worth my time to torture.”

With no fanfare she plunged her other hand into his chest and ripped out his heart. She didn’t bother to watch the light fade from his eyes, simply chucked both his corpse and heart into the woods like the trash he was.

Let the animals have a feast.

---

Caroline twirled her pen, wondering for the millionth time how the other Salvatore could tolerate going to school. She had to be here because the whole town knew who Caroline Forbes was. Mass compulsion wasn’t worth it when she was choosing to stay.

After all, there was an unusually high occurrence of supernatural drama here and she wanted a front row seat. At least that part was interesting. Plus, she considered it a bit of a homage to the other version of herself that she carried out some of the gril’s dreams. And winning Miss Mystic Falls was actually somewhat amusing.

Not to mention the worried murmurs she had overheard from the rest of her “friends”. Originals? Doppelgangers? Curses? This supernatural world sure had some fascinating things.

And with some fantastic acting (if she did say so herself) she passed herself off as an accidental turning in the aftermath of what Damon had done. (Oh my god! He-What did he do to me? What’s happening to me?! Please, don’t kill me!)

It certainly won sympathy points from Elena and her disdain for Damon got Stefan to be, at least publicly, quiet about his concern for his vanished brother. It also helped that no body was found.

Caroline smirked, amused by her own thoughts. Those animals sure ate well that night.

Still, despite supposedly being a new supernatural now, the others mostly kept her on the outer edges of their drama. Perhaps as some misguided attempt at protection. But while it made information gathering a little harder, overall it made her life more convenient. The less time she had to spend acting like a teen aged girl the better, really.

Her eyes shot up as Alaric walked into the room, pen now still and firmly gripped in her hand. Her instincts were blaring that something was off.

She watched with curious eyes as the man asked what they were learning, flipping through one of his notebooks. Odd. Alaric leaned toward the disorganized side, but he rarely forgot his lesson plans.

One of the girls in the front row, Dana she believed, reminded him that they’ve been covering the 60′s as the silence stretched.

“Right. The 60′s,” he repeated, still not sounding particularly prepared.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched him spend a long moment staring at Elena, an abnormal interest in his eyes. It didn’t seem to be lecherous, and Alaric hadn’t sent that type of warning bell ringing, but if she was wrong...

Her grip tightened, near cracking the plastic shell of her pen.

“The, uh,” he coughed as he turned to write on the board. “The sixties.”

Her eyebrow rose as she watched the man literally write ‘The 60′s’ on the board. That was useless.

“-wish there was something good I could say about the sixties, but...” He turned around, continuing to fail at teaching. “Actually, they kind of sucked. Except for the Beatles, of course. They made it bearable. Uh, what else was there? The Cuban missile thing, the uh...we walked on the moon. There was Watergate.”

Elena apparently took pity on the man.

“Watergate was the seventies, Ric. I-I mean, Mr. Saltzman.” She hurriedly corrected as several people stared.

“Right. It all kind of mushes together up here, the sixties, seventies. Thank you, Elena.“

And though Caroline continued to observe the man, he didn’t do anything else suspicious save lecture with little coherence. Continuing to mention random things that occurred in the sixties. Seeming to just list them as they came to mind.

At the end of class, she waved the others on when they glanced questioningly at her, mouthing that she had a question as she gestured toward Alaric.

Leaning back against one of the front desks, she watched as the man shuffled some more papers around. Managing to read some of the print, she was pretty sure he was just trying to get rid of her.

Too bad.

Clearing her throat, she called, “Mr. Saltzman?”

He looked up, a quickly smothered flash of irritation on his face.

“Yes, what is it?”

She cocked her head, wondering how she was going to play this. She was around 98% positive now that this was an impostor. Possession, illusion, shapeshifting, something to that effect. And if it were any of those things, even if he had an informant, he couldn’t know much about her. Being on the outskirts was once more to her benefit.

Well, I was just complaining about boredom...

She rushed forward, slamming the man against the chalkboard, her forearm pinned across his throat. There was shock and barely hidden rage in his expression.

Her eyes dilated, noting with rising interest that she couldn’t compel him.

“What are your intentions with Elena? Are you some kind of pervert?”

---

Whatever Klaus had been expecting from the blonde baby vampire it hadn’t been this.

Although her audacity was rather infuriating she hardly knew who he was, and her reasoning was arguably admirable. He did value loyalty after all.

So, deciding to go along with it, he reminded her he was on vervain. Then, made up some nonsense answer about being particularly concerned about Elena, name dropping himself as a reason.

Her eyes were still narrowed and suspicious, but she backed off after a moment, letting him fall from her grasp. His landing was awkward with a little stumble in order to maintain his ruse.

She smiled at him, a surprising and delightful amount of malice in her expression. “Of course, Alaric. Rest assured though, if I discover you lied to me and you have nefarious reasons for watching Elena...Well, let’s simply say I will delight in feeding you your internal organs. For decades, if I have to.”

With a little parting wave, as if she hadn’t just delivered a gruesome (by human standards anyway) threat, she turned and strutted from the room.

Klaus leaned back against the chalkboard, staring after her, a little intrigued despite his better judgement.

Perhaps, he should start looking into backup vampires? He might actually regret killing that one.

---

Making her way down the hallway, Caroline processed what she had sensed when she tried to compel definitely-not-Alaric.

Vampire and wolf.

A hybrid.

Her eyes flashed gold as a smirk curled on her lips.

Fascinating.

---

Author’s Note: Title is “Twin Spirits” aka “Soulmate” in Arabic the closet I could get to Egyptian which has one of the oldest stories involving the concept. Ancient Greece does as well, but I’m trying not to repeat the languages used in the titles. (Viaggio and Cuore Malato don’t count since they were technically the same story).

Considering how this one turned out, I’m quite pleased that “Twin Spirits” really fits though: both soulmates and parallel selves. Also, if you’re curious, I imagine the formerly dying Caroline went to some All Human AU where she’ll get her happily ever after with that version of Klaus ;) I’m a sap, what can I say?

#Klaroline #KlarosummerBingo #Klaroline Fanfiction #Klaroline Drabbles #Klaroline Edits #Klaroline Photosets #Klaroline Aesthetics #My Writing #My Edits

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ororowrites · 6 years ago

Text

T’Challa x Ororo - Sparks

Characters: T’Challa x Ororo

Word count: 2,504

“What are you saying, Ororo,” T’Challa questioned, wanting to make sure his hearing wasn’t failing him.

“I think we should get a divorce,” Ororo repeated, this time sounding certain that this is what she wanted.

Two months later, Ororo and T’Challa were still living separately part-time and on two different continents. The Queen of Wakanda had moved back to the States and T’Challa stayed in Wakanda. Before any divorce was finalized, counseling was required by the Council if there were children involved. Their four-year-old baby girl was stuck in the middle of her parents’ feud. Azora wasn’t old enough to understand what was going on but even she could feel the tension. She was fussier than usual and clingy when she usually liked to be independent. It was difficult keeping the pending divorce quiet from nosey media outlets looking for a story. But, Ororo and T’Challa managed, continuing to attend royal events together as a couple and keeping the buzz down.

T’Challa was in town for a royal engagement and thought it would be a good time for them to discuss the living arrangement for Azora. Ororo invited her soon to be ex-husband over to help tuck in their princess and have the weighted discussion.

“Babaaa,” Azora shrieked as soon as she heard the familiar voice in the living room. Her tiny feet hit the hardwood with light smacks until she leaped into her father’s arms.

“There’s Baba’s princess! I missed you,” T’Challa added with equal enthusiasm. Azora was the perfect mix of Ororo and T’Challa. She had her father’s smile, her small gap matching his, but she had Ororo’s eyes. Her personality matched more with her Aunt Shuri, which meant many jokes from Azora’s end.

“I missed you too,” Azora exclaimed, hugging the King’s neck. “Can you read me a bedtime story?”

T’Challa looked to his wife for approval, earning a smile and nod. The parents were escorted to Azora’s room after she forced to hold hands on the way. “Read this one,” Azora demanded, holding up Amazing Grace. Even though she had heard the book many times, Azora couldn’t get enough because she thought the young black girl on the cover “matched her”.

“Okay, okay. We’ll read this one. That alright, mama,” T’Challa chuckled, directing his question to Ororo.

“That’s alright with me. This is one of my favorite books too,” she stated, sitting beside her husband. “Is it okay if we take turns reading?”

“Yes,” Azora shouted, pumping her fists in the air.

They followed her instructions until the princess could barely keep her eyes open. Once her eyes had fluttered shut for the last time that night, T’Challa and Ororo quietly left the room.

“That didn’t take long,” Ororo whispered, making sure they were fully out of earshot. “I need to talk to you about her, by the way.”

Worry etched itself on T’Challa’s features until Ororo eased his nerves. “I think...actually I know she has my abilities. She’s quite young and that scares me because you know how hard it was for me to control my emotions then.”

The King placed a hand on Ororo’s shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. “Hey, we talked about this being a possibility when you were pregnant. We’ll handle it. You know Azora will always be in good hands with us. I’ll have Shuri do some research.”

Not even thinking about his statement or how it could be received, T’Challa followed Ororo back into the living room.

“So you don’t think I’m capable of taking care of our child,” the Queen questioned, handing him a glass of wine.

“You know that isn’t what I meant,” T’Challa sighed in frustration. Everything he said got a reply when he wasn’t looking for one. Ororo always got offended each time he made a statement.

Ororo sighed in return, “But you were implying it. That’s one problem we have. Every time I voice my feelings, you get defensive.”

He could appreciate her effort in being honest but it was still irritating. Thinking about their counseling sessions, T’Challa took a deep breath and thought through his answer, “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant, but clearly, I hurt your feelings. I apologize.”

She nodded and decided to change the subject, “All I want is for this process to go easy for Azora. She shouldn’t feel the tension between us,” Ororo stated. “But she’s already questioning where you are and why you don’t live with us.”

“This is what you wanted.”

Tears were threatened to spill over, “And you don’t?” Confusion was one hell of a feeling and it was hitting hard. Not being around T’Challa made the divorce pill harder to swallow. Now that he was present, Ororo began reminiscing on their good moments. T’Challa was her first love, a love that she never thought would sour.

T’Challa refused to ignore Ororo’s tears, even when she quickly wiped any evidence of her emotions away. But it was too late. He saw them.

“Are you sure this is what you want,” T’Challa questioned, moving from his chair to join her on the sofa.

Quite frankly, this is what made it hard for Ororo. Even when they were at odds, T’Challa still cared. She wanted him to be the cold man he was after the snap, but even then she’d have a hard time.

“Ororo,” T’Challa repeated, this time taking her face between his hands.

After gathering her emotions, Ororo was able to speak, “No,” she admitted. “But is it for the best? Yes.”

“What makes you think that,” T’Challa countered, not understanding the double-edged sword of an answer. “Because we argue?”

They had many disagreements but the past year they were arguing several times a day. Their disagreements went from petty spats to screaming matches over royal matters. When their marital issues began to affect how they worked as King and Queen, Ororo knew they had a major problem. Ororo felt like they were far too gone to save, especially when some members of the X-Men attacked Wakanda, putting the couple at odds. Words were exchanged that should be been left unsaid.

“We don’t just argue, T’Challa. We don’t work. How can run a country together when we can't even run our marriage,” she explained with tear-streaked cheeks. “I will not destroy a country because I can’t work with my husband. Do you see how troublesome that is?”

He had to think fast. What could he possibly say to save their marriage and talk Ororo back from the ledge? Finally, he got out of his head and decided to speak from his heart. Taking Ororo’s hands in his, T’Challa began, “Remember when we first met?” The memory caused Ororo’s face to light up. “That’s a day I won’t forget. Those men almost kidnapped me but this beautiful girl with white hair scared them away because she had lightning in her fingers. I’ve never seen a group of grown men run that fast.”

Their first encounter came at the tender age of 14. T’Challa was on a voyage to prepare him for his future as a King. Poachers in the area attempted to kidnap him, thinking he was there to kill their plan. Ororo emerged from a nearby bush with flashes of light coming from her fingers, running the men off and leaving T’Challa safe and untouched. His country held the secret of vibranium, but what secret did this girl have?

“I didn’t even know how to control my abilities then,” Ororo smiled. “That was out of fear.”

“Well, you saved me, my love,” T’Challa grinned. “I was in unknown territory and outnumbered.”

“You were training to be the Black Panther. I’m pretty sure you would have managed without me,” she added, relaxing back against the couch. Memories were bittersweet. They reminded Ororo of the times that led to the deep love they had shared.

“Maybe...maybe not. My whole point is, we’ve gotten away from what’s truly important. Why we fell in love with each other in the first place,” T’Challa explained. “I’m guilty of it too. I could have done better making sure we had time to ourselves outside of work. I took advantage of you simply loving me and I stopped dating you.”

“Dating me,” Ororo raised a brow in confusion.

“I stopped trying, Ororo. You should still feel like I’m courting you but I became too complacent,” he answered, bearing his heart to Ororo in a way he hadn’t done in a while.

Hanging her head to look at their intertwined fingers she agreed, “We’ve both been too complacent. I’ve noticed the distance between us for a while but just didn’t attempt to fix it. I’ve felt unloved and abandoned but kept those feelings to myself because of my pride. I hate when we fight and it seems like the only way I can get my points across. And I know I haven’t been the most pleasant person to be around, after…” Ororo trailed off, her mind drifting back to the fateful day they returned to Wakanda.

After the snap, Ororo and T’Challa were left to deal with the aftermath. Several Wakandans had vanished, including members of the Council, Dora Milaje and countless civilians. The Avengers vowed to get the lost back and tracked Thanos down to reverse the snap. They had succeeded at the expense of losing Okoye and that tore T’Challa to pieces. He’d never forgive himself for losing someone so precious to the kingdom. Okoye was more than his General and protector, she was his sister. T’Challa considered Okoye family and hated that he couldn’t protect her. Her death sent T’Challa into a depression as he struggled to handle his grief. He had never reached acceptance and it left him in an angry state.

“Neither of us have been. I’ve been a terrible husband like you said,” T’Challa added. “I’ve been cold and closed you out when I’ve needed you the most. I’m sorry.”

“T’Challa…”

“I want my wife back. I want my family back,” the King admitted. When Ororo served him with papers, he was shocked. They didn’t make rash decisions without discussion but clearly, Ororo had her mind set on ending their marriage. “Baby,” T’Challa pleaded. “We can work through this. I’m willing to do whatever it takes but signing those papers would be the biggest mistake we make.”

He begged with everything he had in him and poured his heart out as much as it would allow. Losing his family would tear him apart, ruin the last pieces of sanity he held on to after the war against Thanos. Guilt was already eating at his soul and signing those papers would open up a lifetime of regret.

Ororo used the opportunity to open up about her truths and feelings, something she had a difficult time doing herself. It made her feel too vulnerable. “Can I be honest with you?” T’Challa nodded. “Remember that big fight we had after the gala?”

How could either one of them forget that night? That was the night T’Challa had to do a speech in front of world leaders about opening Wakandan borders to exchange students. It was the night he also had to do a speech about the loss of a Wakandan General. He was tense the entire night, dreading the moment he had to talk about Okoye to the world. There were certain things he liked to keep private and his grief was one. That night, he had snapped at his daughter when she got too wired. He never yelled at Azora and she had never even heard her father raise his voice at anyone. That’s when Ororo stepped in and only made matters worse. They went for the jugular, both saying things they didn’t truly mean but only meant at that moment in order to hurt each other.

That night, Ororo told him he was a terrible husband and he stated he should have married a Wakandan woman instead. They regretted the statements as soon as they left their mouths. For the rest of the night, they were forced to put on a front and Ororo planned to file for a divorce.

“At times I wished it was me instead of Okoye. I thought you wouldn’t feel as guilty and you’d be happier if it was me instead,” Ororo admitted, watching T’Challa’s eyebrows smooth out as his face softened. “Things were rough that night. I thought about leaving right then and sending the papers later on. Then I thought about Azora and how unhappy it would make her.”

“Why would you think something like that, Ororo? Losing you would have killed me,” he reassured. “Come here.” Pulling his wife into his lap, T’Challa held her close. The close proximity seemed to relax them and provided a comfort the couple had been missing. “I can’t imagine living without you or Azora. After Okoye went down that day, my life flashed before my eyes. I just knew I was next and I didn’t want to leave you here alone. That day was the first time I’ve been afraid of dying. Because I had so much I’d leave behind.”

Moments from that terrible day haunted both of them due to the loss they experienced. Haunting T’Challa more than anything. When he was finally able to recognize his depression, his relationship with his wife had already fallen apart.

“Now I’m afraid of losing you,” he added, placing a finger under Ororo’s chin, forcing her to look at him. “I’m sorry for abandoning you two and making you feel like I don’t care about you...about us.”

“It’s not all on you. I haven’t been the best partner to you when you needed me. And I’m sorry for that,” Ororo apologized. “I want what’s best for our daughter. I’m tired of fighting with you and she doesn’t deserve to see us like this.”

T’Challa agreed, “Me too and I want to fix this. Please,” his eyes were pleading.

Was love truly enough to stick this out and hope they could repair what had been damaged? Could it be repaired? “What if we can’t fix this?”

“Baba,” a tiny voice interrupted. They looked up to find Azora, rubbing her eyes after a bad dream had disturbed her sleep.

“Bad dream, sweetie,” Ororo held out her arms, inviting their daughter to join them.

“Yes,” Azora sniffed, snuggling into T’Challa’s side as he comforted her.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about those monsters getting you. Baba has that all under control,” he offered, kissing Azora’s forehead. Glancing over at his Queen, he attempted to read her current thoughts since they didn’t get to finish their conversation. Ororo nodded, letting him know that their discussion could wait until the morning and there were more important matters to handle at the time.

Within a matter of minutes, Azora and T’Challa had fallen asleep, their light snores the only sound in the silent living area. Gazing at her family as they slept, those familiar butterflies fluttered in Ororo’s belly.

This was home.

A second part may or may not be in the works.🤔 Okay, it probably is!

Taglist: @oceanscorazon, @heybriheyyy, @superhoeros, @90sinspiredgirl

@champagnesugamama @ashanti-notthesinger @maddistundentwritergaines

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#black panther #black panther fanfiction #t'challa x ororo #t'challa x storm #fanfiction #storm #ororo munroe #wakanda

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