#when will they stop building palaces on the ruins of the city we were supposed to create together?

[lady-raziel]

i can't do this anymore. i can't. i can;t.

[house-of-galathynius]

Only You ~ Rowaelin

A Rowaelin fanfic, set if Aelin’s parents had lived and she had met Rowan under normal circumstances, if Erawan and Maeve weren’t threats. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Eight: Distractions

Chapter Seven ~ Chapter Nine

@aflickeringsoul @tillyrubes10 @fredweasleyhasadhd @rowaelin-cressworth @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @rowaelinismyotp @rosegoldannie @maryberry @viajandosinalas  If you’d like to be tagged, just let me know :) 

Aelin tried to busy herself in the coming days. She would wake just as the sun bathed the palace in its soft glow; when the world was still and all was quiet. She would leave her rooms, and would run for miles, until her lungs were burning and her legs sore. She would bathe and eat breakfast in her room, usually on her own, but sometimes with Aedion or Lysandra. No one mentioned Rowan or their curiosity to what had happened. 

Aelin had not gone back to training with her magic, something always feeling off, like she was missing a piece of herself— it wasn’t hard to figure out what that could be— nonetheless she avoided using it. 

The days meandered on, passing by with little excitement. Her afternoons were spent looking after the other Whitethorn family members or joining Orlon in meetings. Aelin found the monotony of meetings kept her mind from wandering too far into itself— they kept her from thinking of the gaping hole that was left in the absence of Rowan. 

It had been nine days since his departure and she couldn’t deny the ache in her chest. She still did not know the real reason for his leaving. Endymion had said it was urgent business, but wouldn’t state what business, and Sellene wouldn’t even see Aelin alone, only acknowledging her existence at dinners or to deliver glum looks in passing. So Aelin tried to forget, giving herself no time or opportunity to sulk over Rowan or Sam. 

The weekend proved difficult when she couldn’t busy herself with court dealings, but she found solace in Lysandra and their rides through the mountains. Which is where she found herself, bundled up in fur and leathers, teeth trembling at the bitterly cold wind that was blowing against the two of them as they made their way up the steep mountain path. 

“Tell me again why this was a good idea?” Lysandra said. Her voice muffled by the maroon scarf she had wrapped up to her nose. 

“It’s good to get fresh air. Plus the sunsets are beautiful from up here at this time of year.” Aelin could feel her toes going numb, she’d already lost the feeling in the tips of her fingers. 

Lysandra let out a huff, her sandy horse doing the same. “I could’ve been curled up by the fire devouring the almond tart that Aedion got me.” 

Aelin rolled her eyes. She would never admit it to Lysandra, but she too, wanted to be bundled by the crackling fire with a good book and a hot cup of tea. She would never admit it though. 

“It’s only a few minutes longer, Lys.” She could already see the final curve in the road that led to a ruined temple; abandoned hundreds of years ago, but still in good enough condition to go in and watch the sun as it would flood the inside with a golden glow. She imagined the temple was built there for that specific reason. 

“Is there a reason you’re not heating us both up with your fire? I could really do with that right about now.” 

Lysandra was right of course, but Aelin hadn’t touched her magic, and every time she went to use it, she froze, her magic nowhere to be seen. “We’re building character. It’s good for us.” 

“I have plenty of character already.” Lysandra pulled the scarf up higher, her emerald eyes squinting. “Please tell me that’s the top.” 

The temple was in front of them now, the grey stone crumbling in places, ivy and plants swallowing the walls in their green claws; winding their way into the cracks and crevices. 

“This place is so creepy.” Lysandra hopped of her horse, inspecting their surroundings. “I hate it.” 

“Stop being such a baby. There’s literally nothing here Lys.” Aelin followed suit, jumping from her own horse and following Lysandra inside. 

The ceilings were high, a huge dome rose above them as they entered the central part of the temple. The floors were once white marble, the walls covered in markings that had become indistinguishable. Tall pillars of stone circled the outer edge of the room, plants curling around them. Aelin could almost imagine the beauty that this once would have been. Towards the other side of the room a tall window stood, the view looking over the meadows and forests that eventually turned into the sparkling waters of the sea. The sun had started sinking into the horizon and Aelin lent on the ledge of the window, basking in the last rays, watching as the sky changed colours. 

“Okay, so maybe it was worth it.” Lysandra had come to lean next to her, her friend staring out to the world beyond. The two of them silent as they watched the sun sink lower and lower, disappearing for another day. Lysandra broke the silence first. “I have something to tell you.”

Aelin looked to her, curious. 

“I slept with Aedion.” Aelin didn’t reply as Lysandra continued. “We had been into Orynth to go dancing with a few friends. I had planned on leaving earlier, but they all convinced me to stay… so I did.” Lysandra sighed. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. But we were the last to leave, and he walked me to my room and I invited him in; and… you know.” 

Aelin mulled it over. “You know you could’ve told me sooner. You went dancing last week.” 

Lysandra shrugged. “You were preoccupied with Rowan and Sam,” she flinched at the names, but Lysandra continued. “I didn’t want you to think my problems were more important.” 

Aelin couldn’t help but let the guilt rise up. “Your problems are just as important!” She faced Lysandra. “I don’t care if my life is a shit-show right now. I will always have time to listen to you. Always.” 

Lysandra smiled. “I know, but I’m pretty sure your problems trump mine anyway” 

Aelin huffed. “I would much rather not talk about my problems.” She turned back to the sunset. “Have you spoken to Aedion?” 

“We haven’t spoken about what happened, if that’s what you mean. But we’ve talked, yes.” Lysandra twirled a strand of hair. “I don’t think he wants to scare me off. I think he’s worried I regret what happened.” 

“And do you?” Aelin asked. 

“Yes. No… I don’t know.” Lysandra pushed off the window ledge and leant back against the wall. “Everything is so complicated with us. He’s been chasing me for so long… and I’ve finally given in; and now I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” She looked at Aelin. “Does he want it to be casual? Does he want to be in a relationship?” 

Aelin let out a laugh. “Lys, he literally told you he would marry you one day. I think it’s pretty obvious what he wants.”

She groaned in response. “That doesn’t help! He might have been joking!” 

“Gods above. He is in love with you Lysandra! I think he has been from the moment you tried to fight me when we were twelve.” 

Lysandra smiled at the memory. “I would’ve won if it hadn’t been for your father interrupting.” 

Aelin chuckled, Lysandra had been a force to be reckoned with when she was younger. 

The two remained silent for a while longer, dusk falling over the landscape. 

“Have you heard from Rowan?” 

“No.”

“He’ll come around. You’re mates, he won’t be able to stay away for long.” 

Aelin wasn’t so sure about that. “I really messed up. Like catastrophically.” 

“It can’t have been that bad.” 

“I was practically crawling after Sam, bawling my eyes out, begging him not to leave.” She started to pace. “Rowan just stood there, he just watched as I begged for another man. And when he tried to offer some comfort, I refused. I turned down my own mate because— because…” she didn’t know. Pride? Embarrassment? Stubbornness?

“Sam meant a lot to you, and you didn’t want him finding out about Rowan that way.” Lysandra thought for a moment. “Life is messy and unpredictable; and so maybe this didn’t go exactly the way you planned it. But you’re still here, you still have a family that adore you, friends that would do practically anything for you. You just have to give Rowan time, give Sam time. They’ll both understand eventually.” 

“I hope you’re right.” 

“Of course I am.” She smiled. “You know what? I think with everything that has happened we need a night in the city, just us women. We’ll see if Elide can tear herself away from Lorcan and then we can get absolutely plastered in town and forget all of the crap in our lives.” 

“My parents will never let me go out without guards.” 

“They can stand at the doors, or sit at another table making sure you’re fine. I don’t care, we just need to let loose, have some fun!” 

Aelin hesitated just a second before squeezing her eyes together and letting out a long groan. “Fine. For a couple of hours tops. I want to be in bed by midnight.” 

“Anything you wish, old lady.”

Lysandra grabbed Aelin and led her to the horses. The mountains were cloaked in darkness, the night air cold. They rode back to the castle in record speed, Aelin heading straight to her rooms to change. She knew this was a bad idea. Going into the city on the busiest night of the week… going drinking. But maybe it would be a good thing. She could forget about her problems for the night, relax with her friends for the first time in forever. Aelin pulled out the first dress from her wardrobe, an emerald green gown with gold lining the cuffs of the sleeves. She threw off her old clothes and dressed quickly, giving her hair a quick brush letting it fall in golden waves down her back. 

Elide was the first to knock on her door. She looked lovely in a simple blue gown, her hair piled on the top of her head, small silver ribbons running through. 

“Lorcan was adamant about keeping us safe… so he’ll be chaperoning tonight.” 

Aelin barked out a laugh. “He couldn’t bear to let you go?” 

“Something like that.” She smiled timidly, moving to the couch. “He won’t bother us.” 

Lysandra entered at that moment, her red dress low and revealing. “Are we ready? I could do with some wine.” 

Aelin gave a look to Elide, who returned it with her own. The three of them made their way down to the foyer where five guards were waiting, as well as a sullen looking Lorcan, and her parents.

“Remember to stick together.” Her mother said as she fussed over Aelin’s hair. “Don’t drink too much, and please be safe.” She kissed Aelin’s brow. 

“Stop fussing! We’ll be fine.” Aelin swatted her mother’s hands away as she looked to her father who was chuckling at her mother. 

“Just be careful.” 

Elide and Lysandra started to lead the way, the doors of the palace opening to reveal a carriage waiting for them outside. 

“Remember to pay your tab! We don’t need a bill being sent here and then having to explain to Darrow why you spent so much gold on wine.” Her father called out as they were climbing into the carriage. 

“Did anyone bring any gold?” Lysandra laughed as the doors closed.

Aelin couldn’t help herself but laugh too. Gold had been the last thing on her mind as she had hastily got dressed. 

“Looks like we’ll be explaining to Darrow.” 

The carriage jolted forward as it began its journey. The city was close enough that it would take only ten minutes at most to reach it. Aelin was excited to go out, despite her reservations, she was looking forward to spending time with her friends. It had seemed that over the last couple of weeks she had neglected them and she had forgotten how nice it felt— to be with people who weren’t foreign royals or generals or mercenaries. She could feel herself starting to relax as they neared the city. 

The tavern they had picked was not by any means fancy, nor was it the worst that Orynth had to offer. But it was nice enough, and it had enough privacy that they could sit in a booth and not be bothered by people. As soon as the barmaid saw who was entering the tavern a bottle of their finest wine was brought to their table. 

Lysandra lifted her glass. “I’d like to make a toast.” 

Aelin and Elide lifted their glasses in unison, waiting for Lysandra to continue. “To my two best friends who I love and adore. Thank you for putting up with me and joining in with my impulsive ideas. Cheers!” She lifted her glass to her lips and took a sip, the others following suit. 

They remained in the booth whilst they polished off the first and second bottles of wine. They chatted about everything and nothing. Elide telling them about her newlywed life with Lorcan, whilst Lysandra prattled on about Aedion. Aelin mostly stayed silent, chipping in here and there with jokes or comments. By the end of the second bottle she had started to feel tipsy, her body going light and she found the lure of the music and the dance floor too much to resist. Lysandra and Elide refused at first, claiming they needed more to drink; so Aelin had marched up to the bar and ordered their strongest liquor, taking it back to the table and demanding they all drink. 

It didn’t take long for it to kick in; and soon enough they were all up in the middle of the tavern, laughing and spinning to the music. Aelin couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so free… so light. The music changed to another upbeat song, Aelin joining hands with Elide and Lysandra, dancing in circles, her head to the ceiling, smiling from ear to ear. 

They stayed dancing for a while longer, going back to the table a few times to swig some more wine that they had ordered. Not long after that Elide claimed she was going to be sick if she continued, Lysandra agreeing and the three of them going to sit. A guard came over shortly after exclaiming it was late and they should leave, much to the protests of Lysandra. 

So they headed back to the carriage, Lorcan looking relieved that they were finally leaving. Even the guards looked happy at their exit. They scrambled into the carriage, giggling and breathless. 

“I am drunk.” Elide said as the carriage pulled away. 

“I’m hungry.” Lysandra leant her head against the side of the carriage, her eyes watching the scenery pass. 

“We should raid the kitchen when we get back.” Aelin suggested. 

“I still want to devour that piece of almond tart Aedion left me.”

“I want to devour Lorcan.” 

Lysandra and Aelin stared at Elide, at the words that had left her mouth. Aelin could never remember Elide being so cras, the words so alien from her mouth. She couldn’t help but burst out laughing, Lysandra doing the same. 

“Who knew you could say such things, Elide.” The three of them still laughing as the carriage pulled in front of the doors to the palace. 

Elide and Lysandra were the first to stumble out, Aelin following. She didn’t pay attention to where she was stepping, and couldn’t stop herself as she tripped on the skirts of her dress and fell face first into the ground, her head smacking against the hard stone. 

She didn’t hear much as she remained there, splayed on the ground, her head now pounding. The world was spinning and she could’ve sworn she could smell blood. She heard muffled voices around her, alarmed shouts of guards. 

“Someone get a healer. She’s hurt.” 

She didn’t respond as she felt herself being picked up, her body heavy and limp as they rushed her up the steps of the palace and inside. 

“What happened?” She could hear Orlon as he walked beside whoever was carrying her.

“She fell getting out of the carriage, she’s bleeding. We’re taking her to a healer.” 

The words of people around her became hard to decipher as she felt herself going in and out of consciousness, the pounding in her head only increasing. 

She didn’t remember the rest as she plunged into darkness. 

[jorvach]

Been using the Take Notes - Journal of the Dragonborn mod for Skyrim to, well, take notes in an ingame journal for a kinda-sorta fanfic. Here’s what I have so far, plus some screenshots to set the mood.

---1. Some Life Experience--- Master Drogolf has sent me all the way to Riften to pick up some kind of magic crystal! He wouldn't tell me what it's for, but I'm sure it's important... though not important enough for him to go in person. When I asked about that, he said it'll be a chance for me to explore the real world a bit, rather than just sitting around in the tower in Helgen and reading about it.

I can't argue with that, so I'm off! First stop, Riverwood!

---2. City on a Hill--- Riverwood was a pleasant little village, and the people were friendly, but I didn't stay long, being excited about seeing the big city for the first time! Whiterun sits atop a great hill rising up from the plains, painting a breathtaking picture! The Jarl's palace, Dragonsreach is at the very top, looking down on the city. The stories say the dragon Numinex was held captive in that very building... How I wish he was still there, I've always wanted to speak to a dragon! Sadly, they're all extinct. And then there's Jorrvaskr, mead hall of the legendary companions warrior band. This city is truly steeped in history! But before learning all about it, I should head to the local inn and get a hot meal!

---3. Journey to the East--- During my stay in Whiterun, I did some odd jobs for some of the citizens, earning me enough coin to prepare for the journey through Eastmarch, which is supposed to be far more dangerous than the area between Helgen and Whiterun. That much is true, for on the border between Whiterun Hold and Eastmarch stands Valtheim Towers, home to a small gang of bandits. Or I should say, -was- home to bandits. As soon as my spells felled their leader, the rest of them fled into the hills, leaving the main road to the east a safer route... for now.

It's getting late, so I should find a place to rest. Perhaps that ruined tower set into the mountainside.

---4. Kaidan--- The tower turned out to be some kind of hideout for the Thalmor! Fortunately, it seems to have been almost abandoned, as there were only two of them inside. Good thing, as I'm not sure I would've fared well against a full garrison of Justiciars! They also had a prisoner, a man named Kaidan. I freed him and helped him get his equipment back from the Thalmor, including a large Akaviri sword inscribed with some strangely familiar runes. For aiding him, Kaidan has offered to become my bodyguard to repay the debt. I tried to tell him he didn't owe me anything, but he wouldn't hear of it, and so I've earned myself a travelling companion! I shall have to ask him about the runes, but for now, I really need some rest!

---5. Inigo--- We've arrived in Riften at last! While renting a room at the nearest inn, the innkeeper said that she'd been asked to watch out for someone matching my description, then handed me a strange note asking to meet in Riften Jail... Weird. I'll look into it later, for now, I should meet with the court wizard and collect Master Drogolf's crystal. --- Terrible news! Wylandriah, Riften's court wizard, tells me that Drogolf's crystal has been stolen! I'd rather not return from my first real adventure having failed, so I'll try to find some clues as to who stole it, and where I might find them. Following up on the mysterious note from the inn seems as good a place to start as any. --- I met with the one who left the note, A Khajiit named Inigo. He seems to think he tried to murder me, which is why he turned himself in to the guards and has been wallowing in guilt ever since. I tried to tell him he was mistaken, but he wouldn't hear of it, and begged me to kill him. I refused, of course, but still, I couldn't find it in me to just leave the poor fellow to his despair, so I offered to let him join us in our travels, to make up for what he thinks he did. Kaidan didn't like it, but something tells me Inigo can be trusted. Time will tell if I'm right.

Unfortunately, he didn't know anything about the crystal. Back to square one.

---6. Lucien--- A priestess of Mara, Dinya, said she saw a shifty-looking man handing over something that "looked like a soul gem, but green" to a figure in a black cloak! From what Dinya overheard of their conversation, the cloaked person might be going to Falkreath! It's not much to go on, and I don't even know for sure if it's the right crystal, but it's all I have. Luckily, a merchant is leaving for Falkreath very soon, so we could hire on as guards and get to Falkreath quickly! --- We asked around at Falkreath's inn, but apparently, strangers clad in black are common here. No surprise, considering the famous graveyards in these parts. After a fruitless, day-long search, we took a room at the inn. The next morning, as we were having breakfast, we were approached by a pretty fancy-looking young man in even fancier clothes, who asked us if we could take him to Helgen. He wants to meet with my master, apparently. After finding out about my apprenticeship, he became very enthusiastic, and offered a large sum of gold to escort him there. Having no further clues, I suppose I'll have to return home empty-handed... hope the crystal wasn't too important.

---7. Black Wings--- Something horrible has happened! As we approached Helgen, we saw great plumes of smoke rising from the town, and then heard a terrible roar! And then, taking wing from within the walls, a massive beast with wings black as night! A Dragon! Helgen is ruined, burned to ash and razed by the might of the dragon. We couldn't find anyone left alive, and Master Drogolf's tower, the only home I've ever known, is nothing but rubble. We didn't even have time for a proper search, as the dragon flew off toward Riverwood. Inigo insists we must follow, to warn the townspeople of the danger, provided they haven't already been slaughtered too. As much as I would like to stay and mourn for my home, I knew he was right. --- We've each been dealing with the events at Helgen in our own way. Lucien has been borderline panicked ever since, and talks incessantly about anything and nothing to keep calm. Kaidan is even more silent and brooding than usual, and is constantly grasping his bow, watching the skies for any sign of the dragon. Inigo, bless him, has been trying to keep our spirits up with jokes and encouragement, but I can tell he's shaken up bad. And as for me, I alternate between grim determination and feeling like I'm a daze, like I'm only having a terrible nightmare.

---8. A favor for a Jarl--- Riverwood was, fortunately, not burned down. We continued on to Whiterun to warn the Jarl of the danger. Jarl Balgruuf seems a sensible man. When he heard our news about Helgen, he quickly commanded his Housecarl to send men to protect the other settlements in his hold. He also introduced us to his court wizard, a somewhat abrasive man named Farengar, who has been studying the history of dragons. He's asked us to delve into a ruin in the mountains above Riverwood, named Bleak Falls Barrow, in search of something called a Dragonstone, supposedly a map of ancient dragon burial sites. --- As people say, Bleak Falls Barrow is full of Draugr, undead monstrosities who patrol the halls and strike down intruders. Their eyes glowing in the dark chill my spine. What with that, and the destruction of Helgen, it'll be a miracle if I ever get a peaceful night's rest again! Unexpectedly, Inigo is also terrified of these undead, despite being an adventurer of great experience. Perhaps I'll ask him about it sometime. For now, we will continue into the dephts of the Barrow, to find the Dragonstone.

---9. The Word Wall--- We've found the Dragonstone! In a sealed tomb deep in the barrow, it rested in a sarcophagus with a powerful Draugr, perhaps their leader or something - if Draugr have any kind of hierarchy... Something weird happened when we approached the back of the tomb however. There's a wall with a bunch of ancient writing - a Word Wall, Kaidan called it. When I got closer, I heard strange chanting and saw some of writing glowing? And then it was as if the world went dark, save for that noise and light. When I came to, the Draugr had risen from it's sarcophagus and was fighting my friends! Fortunately, they slew it just as my eyes cleared, and they seem no worse for wear. I'm very confused about what happened to me, and the others are clearly concerned about it as well. Still, I feel fine for now, and we need to return the Dragonstone to Farengar. If I'm lucky, maybe he'll know something about the Word Wall too.

---10. Success Story--- We got the Dragonstone back to Whiterun, and were well rewarded. Farengar even promised to look into the incident at the Word Wall! I suppose I'll return to Dragonsreach and ask him about it later. For now though, Inigo's suggested we celebrate our success with a hot meal and a bottle of mead or two, so it's off to the Bannered Mare for that - and a good room for the night afterward! It feels like ages since I've slept in a warm bed! ---

[madllamamomma]

The Visitor~ Part 4

Rhemi x Muriel fanfic. [Warning: the following contains graphic language and mentions blood.]

Part 4~

Père~

Nearly fully sprinting at this point, Rhemi tries her best to make it on time to the palace gates to meet her father. The time really got away from her this morning, despite her waking up before the crack of dawn. Luckily, it’s not raining today, the sky is nice and clear and there’s even a light breeze, but it’s still rather chilly. At least the sun is there to keep her warm today, a good day for walking around.

As she hurries through the busy streets inching closer and closer to the palace, she can’t help but feel so nervous, yet rather excited at the same time. An entire morning with her father! Oh how excited she was to have someone else to talk to about advance spells, incantations, and all other sorts of magic! Her friends were always there to talk to her, but she doesn’t remember having someone this groomed and experienced before.

Not to mention, she couldn’t wait to show him around the city that she is so proud of and loved. Countess Nadia, Consul Valerius, Portia (who is now a chamberlain) and the citizens have been so busy building and improving the city in the last year. Where there were once slums, sinking, underwater neighborhoods, or rough and sketchy places are now where new homes, restaurants, and shops are thriving. Vesuvia has honestly never been better. It seems like everyday Nadia and the citizens have been improving it more and more each and every day.

Turning the final corner to the central part of the city reveals the palace and all its marvelous splendor. Rhemi can feel her heart fluttering in her chest as she sees Martin just exiting the gates by two guards. Dressed in fancy foreign clothes like the day before but different colors and the same silk blue cape and jeweled cane… Except there was no hat on his head, and no badger draped across his shoulders. Martin peers down at his pocket watch with a sore expression, before he notices his daughter jogging towards him. A bright smile takes over his lips, that icy exterior partially melts away yet again.

Nearly out of breath, slowing down her stride as she prances towards him giddily. “Good morning!” She huffs with a tired grin and a little sweat on her brow.

“Well, good morning to you too, Rhemielia.” Martin replies, blindly putting away his pocket watch. “Running a wee bit behind are we?”

With a nervous smile, she scratches the back of her head. “Sorry, I was practicing a new spell. Lost track of time—You know how it is…. I-I hope? Or maybe it’s just me.”

Thinking he’d be interested, and ask what kind of spell she’s working on, she prepares herself to gush about it. But instead, he offers her arm not seeming to have really listened to what she had just said. “Mmm—Shall we?”

Rhemi shakes herself out of her mindset, her grin wide, happily taking his arm. “Oh—We shall.” There are plenty of other things to talk about other than magic.

As soon as the two start walking down the street an awkward dead quiet suddenly takes over. Never has silence been so loud, even when Rhemi started getting to know Muriel, it wouldn’t feel this awkward. After a couple of minutes, it becomes unbearable for both of them as they continue to walk aimlessly down the street.

“...So—”

“Did you—”

Both of them try to break the silence at the same time. But as soon as the other one started to speak, they hushed up quickly again thinking one of them would continue.

“... My apolo—”

“... Sorry—”

Blush starts to take over both of their cheekbones as they both fumble terribly for a proper foot hole to start a conversation.

“After you—”

“Go aheaaa—Ahhhhh.”

Finally the two stop in their tracks and look at one another a bit embarrassed. Unable to contain herself anymore, Rhemi snorts through her nose at this complete ridiculous awkwardness, breaking all the exhausting tension. After breaking down this unneeded discomfort, Martin then lets out a soft startled chuckle along with her, making his laughter lines next to his temples come out for once.

“Go ahead.” Rhemi says with a cheery smile, giving him a small nudge with her elbow.

But he shakes his head, patting her hand still loop through his other arm, a smile remaining on his face. “No, No—Please, ladies first.”

“Alrighty then…” She replies and they both proceed to stroll down the street again. “Did you sleep well?”

He sighs and thinks about that question with a shrug rolling off his shoulders. “Well enough, I suppose. However, I discovered it difficult to fall asleep after finding out your long lost daughter is still alive and well after all these years”

She laughs through her nose giving him a knowing look. “Yeah—I can relate to that… Except finding out about having a father.”

A fond grin faintly spreads on his lips as they stand there for a moment. Finally, Rhemi had to ask. “So where’s Beatrix today?”

“Oh—I left her behind today so she could get some rest. The damn badger never sleeps on the ship… She’s always hunting for filthy rodents on the deck at night.”

“I hope she’s get some rest then….. Is your hat resting too?”

“.... Beg your pardon??” He quickly replies, tilting his head rather confused.

“You’re not wearing your hat today. So is it resting too?” She kids.

“Oh….” Realizing what she is asking, Martin grins a little wider making the wrinkles in his cheeks visible, and a faint flash of cold in his glance. “... You can say that…”

“I think you look better without it anyways.”

Warmth in his eyes returns, and he looks at her rather flattered. “..... Really?”

“Tee-hee~ I like your hair… I wish I inherited your color. It’s different.” Rhemi says with a smile.  

“Ha! I don’t remember the last time someone complimented this overly ripe hair of mine.” Her father instinctinky slicks his thick plum and gray mane back with the other hand. “Thank you….”

“You’re welcome.”

“.... So, my Pigeon—” He says taking back his cane with his free hand. “What part of this…. lovely…. quaint little city… are you going to show me?” He sounds half sarcastic when he says lovely and quaint, but Rhemi doesn’t seem to even pay any attention to that, too distracted with her own thoughts.

Ooooooh no—I haven’t thought that far… she thinks to herself, tapping her pointer finger on her chin, pondering hard.

She looks left and right still thinking of the best place to start. Then she finally has an idea. “Hmmmm…. Well, have you had breakfast yet?”

“As a matter of fact, no, I have not.”

“Perfect. I know just the place!” She says excitedly as she tugs him along with a wide silly smile on her face. “Hope you're hungry!”

“We’ll see…” He mumbles to himself not convinced in the slightest.

It isn’t too long before the two come across the heart district where the marketplace is. Even though it’s early on a weekend day, the market is still bustling with people, buying, selling, haggling and negotiating goods.  

Of course the apprentice first took her father to one of her favorite bakers named Selasi in town to get some fresh pumpkin bread to start the day.

The poor Selasi’s stall was left in ruin just like everything else in the market after Lucio’s and his army of mercenaries took over the city after the Masquerade. But every since then, he had gotten recognized by the countess when everyone was refugees in the forest next to the hut. All the Parkain royals along with Nadia were impressed with the baker's delicious food, even with what little he had, it was amazing. After everyone returned and started rebuilding, he turned his simple stall into a full on shop and cafe and named it, ‘Selasi’s Bakery’.

He even picked up an apprentice of his own named Agrippa. A very tall and handsome person with powdery white skin, long light-grayish hair styled in pigtails tied and a loop at the ends, blue eyes and a smooth mid-ranged voice. They made Rhemi’s favorite cakes and sweets, and even somehow improved the baker’s pumpkin bread recipe. They even recently started dating Portia after she finally asked them out and the two have been going steady since the fall.

“Well—This is the market!” Rhemi introduces to her father, still leading him towards the bakers.

Her father scans the bustling market with an unimpressed look on his face. “Doesn’t seem like this part has changed.” He mutters to himself forcing himself not to sneer.  

“What was that?” Rhemi asks, unable to catch his muttering with all the loud noises from the market goers.

“I asked, ‘where are you taking me to’, Pigeon? ”

“Oh! To one of my very favorite places to get pumpkin bread~” She says as they arrive at the baker’s shop, the air is filled with sweet, buttery and savory aromas and Rhemi opens the door making the bell chime.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t trouble~” Agrippa teases with their charming smirk.

“Oh yeah, you should talk!” Rhemi giggles back, coaxing her father inside with her hand. He enters unenthusiastically looking at all of the food as Rhemi continues with their small talk. “How are you, Ippa?”

“Good, thank you, Bean! Business has been steady like always.”

“Where’s Selasi today?”

“Getting some more flour. I told him I’d go, but he insists that he has to ‘let the flour speak to him’ or whatever. How’s the wedding planning going? Portia told me you’ve been stressed out a little.” They say as they lean into the counter that they normally tower over.

“Things are coming together finally.” She says with an exhausted, but relieved sigh. “With Julian and Portia taking care of the little things, I could focus on the bigger things. All that is left is my last fitting for my dress now. So I think it’s safe to say it’ll be all smooth sailing from here!”

“Muriel dropped off the toppers yesterday. They look amazing! Your bow has some amazing talent. I can’t wait for everyone to see it.”

Rhemi’s eyes brighten up and her lips twist up even more. “Oooo! Let me see!”

“Nooooope~ I have very specific instructions to not let the bride see. It is supposed to be a surprise.” Agrippa says while straightening up their long trunk and folding their arms across their chest. “Sorry~”

Rhemi gives them a smile, pouts, then gives them a quick raspberry like a ten year old. She then rolls her eyes knowing they wouldn’t let her see them, and turns to her father and walks over to him.“OH! There is someone I’d like you to meet!”

“Oh? Who?”

Taking his arm once again, she leads her father to the counter. “Père, this is Agrippa, the baker’s apprentice.”

With one look at the nobleman, Agrippa's eyes widened. “Père? Doesn’t that mean…?” They trail off slowly connecting the dots. “I didn’t know you had a father!”

“Well neither did I!” She says with a giddy smile. “Not till yesterday.”

“Well… How do you do? I’m Agri—”

“Agrippa… yes I heard.” Martin replies a bit snootily. “I am Sir Remington Martin Alarie III, the Archmagister and head chamberlain of his Royal majesty of the Great Charlès.”

Realizing rather quickly what kind of man Martin was, Agrippa puts on a smirk and stops themself from sputtering. “Well, ‘Sir Remington Martin Alarie III, the Archmagister and head chamberlain of his Royal majesty of the Great Charlès’.” They double over the counter in a long bow deepening their voice playfully to mimic him. “I am but a humble baker who is blessed to be a friend of your lovely daughter.” They say bringing their body back up. “How do you do, Sir? ”

“I was told by my daughter that this was where her favorite pumpkin bread was made.”

“You’ve come to the right place! In fact—” Agrippa replies with a smile dashing off to the brick ovens for a moment donning oven mitts on their hands. “Got a fresh batch right here!”  

Rhemi eyes light up with joy and hunger and she wiggles her hips in sheer happiness. “You are going to love it!” She sings to her father and he gives her a half smile.

The baker’s apprentice cuts them both a generous piece wrapped up in a bit of parchment paper. “Here ya’ go!”

Just as Rhemi digs into her coin purse, her father stops her. “No, no. Do keep your money.” And digs into his vest. “A gentleman should always pay for a lady.”

But Agrippa stops him sticking out their hand and waving. “It’s on the house.”

“Really? You won’t get into trouble will you, Ippa?”

“Nahhhh~ Besides, gods know you and your friends keep this place in business!” They laugh.

“Thank you so much!” She says with a big happy smile then looks to her father expecting him to say thank you as well.

He blinks blankly, for a moment then opens his mouth with a click of his tongue. “Oh—Yes… ah, thank you, Agrippa… Although if you're giving this away for free... I’m not sure if I should be concerned or not.... could this be a poorer batch you messed up on?”

Rhemi laughs thinking he’s joking, and Agrippa joins in to not make things awkward, but knowing that he wasn’t kidding.

“Well we’ll get out of your hair before the weekend rush comes! See ya later, Ippa! Tell Selasi I said hello!”

“See ya!” Agrippa says with a smile as the two head out the door hiding a middle finger behind their back as they glare at the Archmagister and his unnecessary dickish comment.

As soon as they leave the bakery and walk around the market, Rhemi digs into her hot pumpkin bread. “Mmmmm! Sooooo goood.” She happily moans, tearing up the moist and tasty bread; but as she looks over to her father, he hasn’t even touched his food.

“Smmthin’ woong?” She asks covering her mouth, her voice muffled with bread still in her mouth.

The Archmagister just shrugs, taking a very small piece and forcing it down his throat. “....Hmmmm.”

“I’m sorry, do you not like pumpkin bread? I should have asked—”

“Oh no, it’s just…. I don’t take handouts.” Martin replies, his face stone cold and serious.

“Hand out?” She blurts out. “It’s a gift! Ippa was being nice.”

“Well… whatever you call it. I don’t take gifts unless I know what people want…” He says with a sneer. Rhemi’s happy smile then drops into a frown and Martin starts to feel an unfamiliar pull in his heart as he nearly tosses the bread to the ground for the birds to eat. “...I ah…. I also don’t care for pastries for breakfast.”  He says adjusting his tone while wrapping up the pumpkin bread into the parchment paper and handing it to his daughter. “... Nor do I typically have breakfast now that I mention it. Perhaps you’ll save it for later.”

“O—Okay. Thank you. I’m sorry you don’t like it.”

“Not your fault, Pigeon. I don’t expect you to know everything.” He reassures her. “Well where else in this pathe—I mean… petite city of yours are you going to show me?”

With a determined grin, Rhemi takes a deep breath knowing another place to go to.

“Follow me!”

——————————

As Rhemi shows Sir Martin around the city, the Temple district, the Heart, South end, and even the now newly rebuilt shopping district (previously known as the flooded district). But still, Rhemi couldn’t shake the agonizing feeling like the Archmagister was rather unimpressed with everything she threw at him. Even after all the renovations completed in the past year—Even when Rhemi told her father the story about the Devil converging with the ex-count—The battles with Lucio and his mercenary-ghost army— The competition to keep the world out of chaos.

Nothing—truly, nothing seems to impress him at all.

He still sneered, and scowled at the city, like he made up his own mind about it long long ago. Strangely, when the two were traveling around, it seemed like her father was familiar with the streets. He even knew many of the alleyways and short cuts that she didn’t even know about. But that hardly seemed to matter to Rhemi— the man wasn’t impressed with her beloved home… and she wanted to change that.

Persistently, she continued to show him Vesuvia, gushing her heart out, and even showed him the best places to eat and shop. Yet still, all her attempts to impress himself still left him with a sour expression on his face or a yawn.

As noon slowly approaches, Rhemi works back their way back to the palace. Feeling the morning wearing her down they approach the city center next to the large fountain where an old tacky statue of Lucio on a horse used to be. Now it’s only a lone cheetah holding a spear. For once. the Archmagistor seemed to have noticed it and stopped staring at this slightly perplexed.

“Say, Mileia…” (Another pet name for her apparently.) “...... Didn’t that used to be a gold statue of the Count riding a horse?”

Rhemi peers over to the top of the roaring fountain. “Oh yeah…. that was destroyed when Lucio attacked the city a year ago.”

Suddenly, the tangy scent of freshly smoked eel engulfs the plaza. She wasn't the only one who noticed either. Martin's teal eyes light up as if he sees an old long lost friend.

“Fresh eel!! Come and get your fresh eel heeeerreeeee!!!” The stand keeper shouts waving the delicious food in the air for everyone to see and smell.

Without another word, Rhemi hurries over with her coin purse before her father could stop her. “I’ll take two, please.”

The cheery venter takes her coins and gives her two kabobs. With food in hand, she runs back over to her father, she gives him one eel with a joyful smile. “This is a gift from your daughter. Not a hand out.” Half expecting him to refuse it, he surprisingly takes the food then stares at it almost nostalgically sniffing the tasty treat.

“What’s the matter?” She finally asks, stopping herself from shoving the food down her throat.

“Hmm??” Martin shakes his head, but still stares at the kabob oddly.  “Oh, nothing… I just haven't had a smoked eel in a very long time.”

“Oh! I didn’t know you had it in Charles too.”

He gives her a small annoyed glance from her mispronunciation. “It’s Charlès, darling….  And we don’t. The capital doesn’t have any seas or ocean around it. It’s surrounded by treacherous mountains. The only fish we have is salmon, bass, and trout from the icy rivers...”

“O.. oh… So… where have you had it before?”

“I….—” Martin sharply stops himself and his eyes grow colder again and he seems to shake himself out of his nostalgic trace. “... M-my father, your grandfather, Remington II used to bring me and my siblings some when he traveled to the coast. He placed a spell on them so they wouldn’t spoil.”

“Oh… Neat!” Rhemi says with a smile. So far he’s mentioned her grandparents once the day before. Apparently that's where she gets her dark reddish-brown hair from her grandmother.

Unable to resist the sweet, salty smoky flavor, he actually takes a bite out of the eel and seems to rather enjoy it. “Still even tastes the same…” He chuckles before scarfing the eel down.

Finally. Something he likes. Feeling a bit accomplished she feels the tension in her shoulders relax. This man wasn’t like any of her friends. Gods know he was much harder to read as well. It’s like he has this invisible wall around himself. Trying to get to know him was proving to be difficult. But Rhemi liked a challenge and wasn’t one to give up easily.

“So, I suppose they had a reason why did they replace Luico with this… cheetah?” Her father asks after making it half through his eel looking at the piece of art of the new fountain.

“Lucio nearly tore this city and the world apart… He killed a lot of people to gain power. People that Muriel and I really cared about… He even killed his father years ago. Then killed his own mother in the Scourge Lands… Her name was Morga…” With sad somber expression, she stares up at the bronze sculpture and all its power and beauty. “If it wasn’t for Morga… I don’t think we’d be here right now… Muriel and I probably wouldn’t have gone to the south together… Lucio might have even won.”

“.... So I presume that cheetah is supposed to represent her?”

Sadly, Rhemi slowly nods her head, still gazing at the fountain statue.

“Interesting…. Excuse me for slightly changing the subject… but you mentioned that Lucio became merged with the…. devil? From the Arcana realm?”

Taken a little by surprise, she glances over to her father realizing that he did in fact listen to her earlier while she was showing him the other parts of the city. “Yeah… I’m not sure exactly how. But I think he made a lot of deals with various demons— I mean that literally…. And like I said… kill a lot of people... including his own mother.”

“... Just so he could live forever?”

“.... I think it was for power and to live forever??... Or it was so he could regain a physical form…. or maybe he wanted to dominate the world too—Or that was the devil influencing him? I honestly have no idea. And if you ask me, it was too heavy of a price to pay. The Arcana realms must be occupied by someone… if not, our world is thrown into chaos and ruin. In the end, he was forced back.”

“Hmmm…”

After making quick work of his eel, Martin throws the bare stick into the water of the fountain. Poor Rhemi’s eyes widen in silent dismay and hastily fishes it out with her magic when he isn’t looking. She’d have half a mind to tell him not to litter… But it didn’t feel like the time or place to lecture her own father.

“It is strange to hear about a dead man coming back to life… When rumors came that Count Lucio of Vesuvia was murder in his own bed, it came to many courtiers a shock. Even the king was appalled….Personally, I always saw him as a bumbling fool.”

“So you've been here before?”

“A handful of times, yes.”

“And you knew the ex-Count?”

“Unfortunately. King Francis rather enjoyed his company much to my dismay….. His Majesty thought he was and I quote, ‘The best kind of host, charmingly idiotic and stupidly generous’.... He did know how to throw some entertaining parties, I suppose. So the King seemed to have taken a liking to him… but I never cared for him.”

“Good!! He was a freakin’ asshole is what he was.” Rhemi snarly adds before taking the last bite of her smoked eel, stewing on all the things he’s done to everyone, especially Muriel. “That stupid humanoid-goat could go fuck himself in the devil’s realm for all of eternity for all I care! Good riddance!” She sneers under her breath.

With an shocked and appalled expression, Martin glances at her mildly scolding. “Well, that’s some colorful language for a lady such as yourself.”

Pssssh! I’m no lady… She laughs to herself and she pulls on her lips to stop from spilling them out. “... So you disagree with me?” She asks with a smirk and an eyebrow raised, throwing the two bare sticks into a nearby rubbish bin, still chewing a half mouth full of eel.

Despite his distaste for her language, he’s unable to control his snickering. For now he lets it go and he shrugs. “I never said that.” Martin chuckles. “.. You are right in that regard... that man was an encompident ass.”

“—Miss Rhemi!!!” A childish voice all of a sudden calls from a far.

Rhemi and Sir Martin whip their heads around to where the young voice was calling from. Low and behold, they see three children all under the ages of twelve barreling towards them, the youngest in full sprint. Really at second look, it looks like the other two were chasing after the younger one.

“Hold onto your coin purse, Rhemielia.” Martin whispers with a vicious sneer, standing in front of her with his cane at the ready.

“Huh?” She mumbles looking over his shoulder, not getting a few view of the children.

As soon as her voice escapes from her lips, Rhemi can sense her father conjuring his magic into the jeweled handle of his cane. The gem starts to glow brightly giving off a sort of metallic smelling aura... He is conjuring a spell?? To use on these kids???

Now getting a full glimpse over her father’s shoulder, she realizes she knows the children running up to them both and a large bead of sweat forms on her brow unsure what her father was intending to do.As soon as Martin brings up his cane to let loose the spell, she gently places her hand on the top of his jeweled handle, scooting him out of the way and forcing him to set down his weapon.

“—Ohhh! Lilly! Zachary! Nathan! How are you silly kids??” She says with a ginger smile. Martin face twists as he realizes that she knows these little peasants, but he keeps quiet, observing her as the three snot nosed brats approach them, two boys and one girl.

Rhemi kneels down and the children all embrace her with a tight hug nearly knocking her over to the cobble street. “Rhemiiiiii!!!”

“Sorry! I couldn’t stop him.” The girl apologized.

“That’s alright! Well—Hello, hello, and hello! What are you three rascals doing here?” Rhemi greets cheerily.

“Getting some eggs.” The young girl says lifting up an empty basket. She was the tallest and the oldest. If you couldn’t immediately, she was the responsible one in the trio, the ‘mother hen’ of the group. Her hair was a bright blonde with tight curls styled in two puffy pigtails. Her skin is a beautiful dark black, like a fresh brewed coffee, and eyes a bright hazel.

“Where’s Mr. Tall Man today?” The youngest boy asks looking all around making his wild and curly brown toffee colored hair, bounce all around. He has pale ivory skin with flecks everywhere, and dark brown eyes, and couldn’t be no older than six or seven, about one of Muriel’s cousins named Ida’s age, and just as cute. However he wasn’t the faintest bit shy like Ida is.

“Oh—I’m sorry, Nathan. Muriel isn’t with me today. He’s busy doing other errands.” Rhemi answers him tilting her head feeling rather guilty.

“Awwww.” The little boy whines looking at the ground disappointedly, holding the eldest child and the girl's hand and pouts. “I wanted to show him my newt. I found him in a pond.” He opens his pocket and out comes a little sticking looking bright orange creature with various sized brown and gray spots covering his head to his tail (freckles, just like Nathan).

Martin makes a revolted little noise and looks away for a moment, a hard sneer twisting his features, Rhemi doesn’t see him cringing behind. To his surprise, his daughter isn’t disgusted or afraid at all, she actually seems to think it’s cute, and pets his little head with her pointer finger. “Ooooh~ What’s their name, Nathan?”

“Wart! He’s a boy newt.” He says as he turns his neck and sticks his tongue out at Lillian and she just shakes her head, with a long-suffering look on her face.

“Well isn’t he just lovely. He has a wonderful color, orange is one of my favorite colors. I’ll be sure to tell Mr. Muriel about him! I’m sure he’d love to see him.” Her eyes glance behind to her father, still looking rather prudish and she smiles realizing she hadn’t introduced anyone yet. “OH! Right!…. Sooo, everyone, this is my father, his name is Sir Remington Martin Alarie III. He’s a King’s magician.”

The young girl lets out a shallow quick gasp as she looks up at Martin and he half turns his nose up at her. “I didn’t know you had a father.” She whispers to Rhemim shielding her mouth with her hand.

Rhemi plays along and whispers back the same way, “Neither did I… We just met yesterday.”

Little Nathan clings onto the Archmagister’s pant leg and Martin furrows his brow and somehow manages to frown even more. “You’re a neat magician too, like Miss Rhemi, Mister??”

Martin rolls his eyes scoffs. “....What gave that away? The cape or the cane, Oh-Child with a newt named ‘Wart’ ?” He sassily remarks, slowly unhinged the child’s arms off his leg.

Realizing that her father was confused about how she knew these children, she stands up and loops her arm around his. “Père, these are some children that were on the streets before the battle with Lucio…” Rhemi then points to each of the kids one at a time. “This is Lillian, Lilly for short. That strapping young lad is Zachary. And last but not least, little Nathan.”

The youngest child excitedly waves his hand at the old grumpy magician adorably despite Martin's lack of caring. “You look like a fancy magician!!” Nathan giggles cutely, finally letting go of the Archmagister’s leg.

“..... Mmmmm hmmmm….” The old gentleman grumbles. “... Nathan… was it??” The boy nods his head not noticing the nobleman’s disgust as he continues to sluggishly push him away, now gently using the butt end of his cane. “Pleasure to make your…. acquaintance…” He mutters trying to sound kind as he quickly brushes off his pant leg he touched.

Zachary, the older boy, notices the man’s dislike for Nathan touching him and stares at him shamelessly and the two start to have a silent scowling staring contest all unbeknownst to Rhemi who is still looking away. But Lilly catches and just stands there shaking her head unimpressed with either of them.

But then Nathan just rambled on adorably blabbing and now clinging onto Rhemi’s right leg and she ruffles his messy hair untamed hair that she admired. “Miss Rhemi and Mr. Muriel and Ms. Countess lady and—*achoo*—and all of her other friends helped made us all a home.”

A little bit of pink quickly stains Rhemi’s face as her father's eyes fall on her. “Well it was all Muriel, Asra, and Nadia’s idea to build an orphanage. All I did was help.”

“The Countess lady comes and reads to us eeeevery Wednesdays.” Nathan continues to rant. “And—And Miss Rhemi and Mr. Muriel comes by and sometimes they bring us arts n’ crafts and-and-and teach us magic!!”

“Is that so?” Marin fakely smiles. “Magic is so freely taught here I see…”

“Yeah! We each have our own beds! Mr. Muriel helped make them for us!”

“—And get three square meals a day. We don’t have to fight or steal food anymore….” Zachary finally chims in, scratching the back of his head. “Which is…. okay I guess…” His skin is olive-ish brown and his hair is a dark umber color, but has bright crystal blueish gray eyes that stand out.

Zachary was always normally very quiet. He used to be a part of a group of kids that were terrible bullies and even thugs. But ever since he saw Muriel, a hero and champion to the city, who was an orphan who grew up on the docks just like him, something changed in him. Perhaps knowing that someone like him could be a hero someday, strong and brave, he left that life behind and started a fresh path at the orphanage. He was still very young, no older than eleven, but really looked up to Muriel and Rhemi and saw them both as his role models. Even now, he tries to act all tough and aloof, but he’s really a little sweetheart and cared about the orphanage as much as the other two did.

“Well isn’t that ….nice.” Martin says with a bit of surprise in his face glancing at Rhemi. “Very appropriate for a young lady such as yourself to get involved in.”

“How’s Mrs. Edilen doing??” Rhemi asks, turning her attention back to the children.

“Old…”  Zachary mutters blankly. Without warning, Lilly smacks him across the back of his head with such a scoldingly look on her face. “—OW! WHAAAAT??” He grumbles just above a whisper, his bright eyes angrily beaming at her as he holds his head.

“Shut your mouth, Zach!!! That woman is good to us and you know it!” Lilly snaps before answering Rhemi. “She’s fine, but her back has been bothering her lately.”

Lillian has been the little mother figure for these kids at the orphanage. She was always scolding and ensuring everyone minded their manners even though she was half their strength. You could tell she was in charge, but she was a very good kid with a heart of gold. She reminds Rhemi of herself in a way.

Rhemi stifles a laugh to spare poor Zachary’s pride and just continues with the conversation. “She’s actually coming by later for her potion, I hope that’ll help her.”

“Me too, I guess….” Zachary grumbles with his arms folded. “I’m sick of reading bedtime stories to the younger kids...”

“Oh stop acting like you don’t like it! You’re the one who does it without anyone asking you too!” Lilly rolls her eyes.

“...T—They whine if I don’t!” He quickly retaliates, blushing crazily.

Lilly just stares at him with a knowing smirk. “Oh yeah, I’m sure they whine when you don’t do the voices either!” She teases.

Poor Zachary’s face looks like it's going to explode and he gently shoves her, covering his burning face with the neck of his shirt like a turtle. “Shut. Up. LILLIAN!!” He grouches, words muffled by his shirt.

Kneeling back down with a giggle, Rhemi can’t help but love to see these two banter like they do. I can see these two getting married in ten years. She thinks to herself. “Well, I better get going, kiddos. I’m showing my father around the city and are expected for tea.”

In unison all of the kids sink their shoulders disappointedly.

“Are you both gonna come to see us soon?” Nathan asks with the biggest puppy dog eyes, holding onto her shaw.

“Awwwww!! Of course we will! It’s just all this wedding has just been keeping us busy. But I promise Muriel and I will come soon. Ok?”

All three kids excitedly say, hooray in unison and give her one last group hug before they all head on their merry way, waving her goodbye as they’d end towards the market.

“Bye, Fancy Mister Magician Man!” Nathan calls with a big goofy smile while holding onto Lilly’s hand.

As the kids wander off, Martin just looks at Rhemi with such fondness as he takes a seat next to the water fountain ledge.

“What?” Rhemi asks with a grin.

Martin just shakes his head with a chuckle. “You’re just like your mother….. even just now… you are just the spit of her… She loved working with children. She wanted to become a governess before she met me.”

Rhemi smiles a little wider and sits next to her father on the fountain’s edge. “.... I wish I could remember her face….”

The water fountain behind the two keeps endlessly roaring with the water and the two sit then content for a moment, watching as people go by, happy to take a seat for the time being. As they both sit there enjoying the warmth of the sun, Rhemi’s mind wanders to yesterday to her unanswered questions the other day. It kills her to want to know, but it’s terrifying to ask.

Finally, she swallows her fears, and tightens her fists as she summons the courage. “....Père?”

“Yes, my Pigeon?”

“I… I wanted to ask you this yesterday, but it didn’t necessarily come up in the conversation… But…. ummm…  What exactly….. happened?....” Her father's smile fades as soon as she utters that question, and he turns his head away from her. His reaction just makes her want to know even more. “...W-Why hadn’t I seen you for so many years?”

Martin’s cold eyes shimmer with a glimpse of pain with that question and swallows hard. “..... I…. I think that's for another day, dear child…”

She sits there for a moment, considering to let it go, but her mouth moves before she can really stop herself. “…. Could… could you at least tell me something? P-Perhaps? It’s been killing me to know what happened….”

Martin still keeps his eyes averts from hers, hoping she’d stop being so persistent.

“... If I could remember any of it myself, I wouldn’t have asked.” She adds sheepishly twiddling with thumbs in her lap.

The old magician stews on her words for a while, still very hesitant to speak of what happened and she thinks he’ll just ignore her plea. But then he sighs very deeply before muttering unenthusiastically, “.... Very well….”

Taking out a pipe out of his vest pocket along with a little tobacco from a fancy tiny metal tin. Conjuring his magic to his finger, he lights up the pipe, and takes in three short puffs followed by one big one. Pondering his words, he holds it in his mouth peering at the crowd, then finally blows out all the smelly smoke slowly. “...You and your mother…. were stolen from me around fifteen years ago.”

Rhemi quickly whips her head towards him with her eyes wide, staring at her father completely dumbfounded.

S-Stolen? She shouts to herself in her mind, her poor heart starting to beat a little faster by the second. By—by who?? What does this all mean??

He draws in another larger puff before continuing this obviously painful story, apparently being soothed by the tobacco. “You both were kidnapped.... By a terrible evil witch named Phara….”

Phara… he mentioned her before the other day. Why doesn’t that name sound familiar to me?? Why can’t I remember that name???

Squinting her eyes as if that would somehow help her remember as she follows with another question. “...W-Who was Phara? I don’t remember that name at all.”

“I was afraid of that. But I also could only assume that was the case as well.” He takes in a quick puff and nods solemnly before beginning again, bellowing out the smoke as he spoke.. “.....I ….I hired her to be your tutor. You were about…. ohhhh I believe it was seven or eight at the time?—It was shortly after I was promoted to head chamberlain to his Majesty's court and I became increasingly busy with my new duties. Anyways…. One day, you scared your governess half to death… She was teaching you handwriting. You apparently threw a tantrum and lit your parchment paper ablaze with your magic. According to some servants, she came out of the library screaming.”

Rhemi’s cheeks start to feel like they are burning, that sounds about right knowing herself and how angry she can get even now. Sometimes she still wants to destroy things now when she is pissed off…. Apparently some things never change.

“... And so...You needed to learn how to control your magic.” He continues, “... And mother suggested someone she grew up with.”

“.... Phara?” Rhemi knowingly asks, placing her hands on the cold marble stone she’s sitting on.

Martin nods slowly, waving his pipe around as he spoke. “Yes…. Phara….. She was a Throthian woman, a professor for some intellectuals. For a time, she taught foreign dukes, duchesses, and even a few princesses in Parka and she was highly regarded, even for a woman.”

Throthian… Now that sounds familiar… Where do I know that word from?

“... She even taught many commoners and the poor to read and write so they can make better lives for themselves… which didn’t make the king very happy…. But most importantly, she was also a witch. Apparently a skilled one at that, which is what you needed at the time. Your mother swore that she trusted this woman with her life, and that Phara was bound to secrecy and confidentiality.”

…. Wait—Secrecy??....Why secrecy??

He pauses for a second, and draws in another deep puff on his pipe, then lets it out. Quietly Rhemi covers her mouth and lightly coughs, the smell of the tobacco burning her lungs. “....Despite my better judgement—I felt at the time that we had no better alternative. So, I hired her to be your tutor. She didn’t know the basics of aristocratic life, such as playing classical music on the piano, needle point, edict, or anything like your previous governess, but she was what we desperately needed at the time… And I’ll admit she was much more intelligent. Years went by, your magic was under control and you were being properly educated…. or so I thought.”

“.... So you thought? What do you mean??”

“.... Well… it came to my attention that she was teaching you things no young girl of nobility should know.” He pauses once again and looks his daughter in the eyes very seriously and sincerely and Rhemi feels her heart tug down. “...Phara was teaching you terrible things... evil things, Rhemielia.”

Rhemi’s eyes fall down to the cobblestone street as she tries to swallow all of this information. ….I… I was taught… evil things?... Perhaps that’s why I didn’t bat an eyelash at the blood magic, yet Muriel was so bothered by it…. am I… evil at heart?? Rhemi wonders to herself, her heart tugging even more. Is that why I was such a jerk before I died?

“.... One night about a week after your twelfth birthday.... I came home a day early after going on a diplomatic trip with the king. I was bringing you a late birthday present… But to my surprise, no one greeted me at the gates, nor the door. Soon I realized that all the servants were gone, the chateau was dark and empty and something sinister was afoot.” Rhemi’s nails started to dig into her thighs unconsciously as she hung onto every word… This part was starting to sound almost familiar. “.... I made my way to the parlor, and I saw Phara shoving you and your poor mother out the veranda and was planning on throwing you both out off the balcony for god knows what reason.”

Rhemi swallows the lump in her throat hearing all of this for some reason its starting to feel a little more familiar. “.... We fought. It was her magic against mine…. Soon, the fourier was in shambles, the furniture and decor littered the floor, and I had her nearly beat… Then the next thing I see out of the corner of my eye that your poor little head was cracked open…. You were bleeding everywhere, barely standing straight in the corner of the room...”

Vision starts to become dizzy, Rhemi closes her eyes to stop her head from spinning. But as soon as Rhemi closes her eyes, the short glimpse of her small childish hands trembling and covered in blood come into her mind. It’s too vivid to have been her imagination. Her right hand instinctively goes to her forehead to the right side of her frontal skull where there are two stubborn cowlicks that never grew much hair. She couldn’t part her hair any other way because of them. It’s only at this very moment she can feel a slight dip in her bone that she realizes why that hair never grew past an inch or two… it was a hidden scar, it was small, no bigger than an inch now, however it felt like it went rather deep.

A quick twinge of pain returns to Rhemi’s temples for a split second and she shuts her eyes yet again and stifles her groan. Flames of the burning mansion in her dreams illuminates behind her eyelids—the other Rhemi, the dying phoenix, faint muffled screams and yells they all start to rush into her mind and ears, making her almost sick to her stomach. Focusing on her breathing, she diverts her thought away from her nausea not wanting to see the eel or pumpkin bread a second time. She dare not make a scene in the middle of the city and she stays silent, quietly suffering as her father continues on.

“I… I underestimated that witch, she was more craftier than I had originally thought. Somehow I found myself with a knife in my back. You were just standing there, looking paler by the second… So I ignored my pain and staggered straight over to you. I knew you needed a healer immediately with the amount of blood you were losing and—” Martin stops mid word, you can hear him choking back some tears with his voice cracking. “... I reached out to save you…. to pull you into my arms—but….” He softly trails off.

Rhemi closes her eyes again, and for a moment, she sees a large eerie hand slowly coming at her from the dark—As she opens her eyes it disappears once again.

In the corner of eyes, she can see as Martin pulls off his right leather glove for the first time, and she notices that he pulls up part of his long sleeve of his fancy shirt. Underneath them both hid a terrible looking old burn that started from the top of this hand, ran up his forearm, and wrapped all around his bicep. It was awful to look at, it must have been so incredibly painful. “... Phara proved to be craftier than I expected… she always was… I just wish I saw it sooner… That damn witch used the last bit of her magic to start a terrible fire, even put you in harm's way to do it.”

The fire…. Is that what the other me was trying to tell me about? The fire?? Is Phara that monster?.... I don’t know if I still want to know...

The nausea and dizziness subsiding as quickly as it came, she stared at her poor father’s arm a burning in her nose. “I’m…. I’m so sorry, Père.” She softly says with tears in her eyes as she gazes at the terrible scar seared into her father’s flesh. “Does it still hurt?”

“You mean…. This old scar?” He scowls with an eyebrow raised, appearing a bit puzzled.

Rhemi nods sheepishly, her large eyes beaming with such a somber empathetic expression.

Seeing this sincere look, he’s face softens and he even gives her a reassuring grin and shakes his head. “No… Not anymore, Pigeon.”

Gently she touches it with the tips of her fingers inspecting the shriveled tough pinkish skin. “Did you have a doctor's help? It looks like it healed rather well.”

“I did actually…” The Archmagister holds up his arm, opening and closing his fist, wiggles his fingers, and flexes his elbow to show that his range of motion was at least spared “... The doctors and healers had to use some unconventional methods to salvage all of my fingers and I regained feeling in my forearm… And it took quite a while to recover from all of it—I even had to learn how to write with my left hand... But honestly, I hardly remember it.”

He stops flexing his arm and hand and gently rests it back on top of his leg with the palm up. “... All the while I was healing, I was focused on finding you and your mother. I put a very high bounty on Phara’s head along with countless posters, fliers, and I sent letters to neighboring kingdoms everywhere. I hired men and the best bounty hunters all over the country to comb cities to the countryside in Charlès for you and your mother… But then, weeks turned into months, months into years, years into over a decade. Everyone all but gave up, the story of the Archmagister’s kidnapped wife and daughter became all but a tragic distant memory.... To some, it twisted into a bedtime story. About a demon witch who came in the night who lured beautiful mothers and their poor children out of their homes in the dead of night during the witching hour. The witch would kill them and drain all of their blood so she could bathe in it to restore her youth and power. Then she’d chopped the bodies all up into tiny pieces and cooked their flesh into a stew, serving it to the unsuspecting poor.”

Martin draws back his arm, rolling down his sleeve, donning his leather glove yet again. “But only few knew the truth.”

“That must have been just terrible for you…. You must have been so lonely.” Rhemi finally utters after sitting there quietly.

“... I never released how empty a house felt without you both in it.” He mumbles looking away into the crowd. He shrinks into himself as soon as those words leave his mouth as if he didn’t mean to admit that. But Rhemi could tell, that came directly from his heart.

Martin suddenly clears his throat quickly slicking back his hair, shaking himself out his thoughts and glances at his pocket watch. “Oh would you look at that. It’s nearly time for tea.” He straightens up and lightly pats her head and she tries her best to stop herself from sneering to be polite. “Come on then. Let’s get a move on, don’t want to be tardy now, do we?” He says standing to his feet and shaking out his cape.

“N-no… No we don’t.” Rhemi answers, sluggishly standing her feet as well brushing out the wrinkles in her shirt.

———————

The walk back to the palace was a bit more quiet, but Rhemi and Martin now seem to be comfortable with it and just enjoy each other’s company in comfortable silence. She’s somewhat used to it being with Muriel.

As the two made it back to the Palace, they were greeted by a handful of Nadia’s servants and an older man in dark green and blue that her father called Bartholomew. He must have been his servant; his uniform and disposition was very different from anyone else.

Judging from the lack of people around, Rhemi and Martin apparently had arrived a bit early and were both left in the common room for the Countess’ arrival. Bartholomew whispered a few things to Martin’s ear before very elegantly leaving the room.

Suddenly, Beatrix comes scurrying around the corner making a few of Nadia’s servants comically shriek in surprise. The grumpy badger quickly prances over to Martin and climbs up her over the armchair close by, then on to his shoulders.

“Making yourself a nuisance yet again I see, Beatrix.” Martin teases her and she chatters back.

“Good afternoon, Bea~.” Rhemi says with a smile as she puts her hand up to her to sniff. Surprisingly, the animal lets her scratch under her chin after giving her a few pumpkin seeds from her pocket. It’s unclear if she likes Rhemi or if she just likes the food she gives her. Either way, Rhemi likes her. She’s cute in a scruffy kind of way.

“Pardon me.” Says Pascal, a servant who took over Portia’s position after she was appointed to Chamberlain comes in with a bow. “The Countess wanted me to inform you both that she will be arriving shortly. In the meantime, please make yourself comfortable.”

A sharp scoff ejects out of Martin’s mouth. “Of course she’s going to make us wait….” He grumbles, and Beatrix growls a little at the poor servant showing her teeth. “I was invited into her own palace, haven’t seen the damn woman since I arrived and now she’s gonna make us wait?”

“My apologies, Sir Martin… She’s just returning from a Heart District reconstruction meeting.”

Rhemi steps in front of her father and before he could mutter another word and feeds his badger another pumpkin seed and she ceases her aggressive noises. “Thank you, Pascal. How’s your father doing?”

The servant smiles sincerely and cups his hands together. “Oh, great after that sleeping remedy you gave him!”

“Good! Any more chronic night terrors about jellyfish?”

Pascal laughs as she mentions that and Martin has a perplexed scowl on his face looking towards his familiar as if she knew the answer to that. “No! None since Muriel gave him that dream catcher over his bed. My family can’t thank you both enough for that.”

“Ooooh please, it was nothing! I’m just glad to hear he’s doing better—”

Martin stands in front of his daughter before she can finish her sentence. “—Yes, yes. That’s very nice indeed. Now if you wouldn’t mind...” The Archmagister says, shamelessly shooing the poor thing away, waving his cane guestering towards the door. “I’m sure your Countess would like you to return to her without dallying.”

Rather taken off guard by his rudeness, Pascal blinks blankly for a moment before bowing out and leaving the room. “Y-yes, your Excellency.”

Just as shocked as Pascal, Rhemi shakes her head staring at the back of her father’s head. Finally she taps on his back and her father turns to face her. “... You could have been nicer…” She mumbles to him a bit pouting.

He sighs, then pinches the bridge of his nose. “You really shouldn’t make chummy conversation with the servants, Rhemielia… It’s distasteful.”

The Archmagister walks around Rhemi towards the other side of the room to a small table by the fireplace, Rhemi’s eyes following him. “..... But I like Pascal—”

“—Well, Rhemielia, how about we play a game of chess to pass the time?” He says rather jollily (for him) gesturing towards the small table where the game is set up.

“Chess?..” She repeats him tilting her head. She can’t remember the last time she ever played the damn game and she sheepishly scratches the back of her head. “...Oh… I don’t really like playing. I don’t think I remember all the rules anyw—”

“Very well. I’ll teach you the rules again.” He replied, taking a seat next to the white pieces and setting his cane on the outside of the chair. “... We used to play when you were younger. If I remember correctly, you were getting quite good too, but never could quite beat me.”

“S-... Sure… why not?..” Rhemi reluctantly gives in, taking a seat behind the black pieces in the armchair.

Quickly, but thoroughly, her father explains the basic rules, and part of it is starting to come back to her as she stares at the pieces a bit longer.

“Any questions?” He finally asks as he pets Beatrix and she leans into his touch.

The apprentice gazes at all the pieces studying them carefully. Rook, king, queen, bishop, knight and….. and…. hhhhmmm…

Forgetfully, she points to the smaller pieces in the front. “These small ones… they're called, pawns or fawns?”

“Pawns. You were right the first time….. Are you starting to remember the rules, my little Pigeon?”

“Maybe?... It all sounds rather familiar.” Her finger gently grazes the top of the small cold piece and she has a sad frown. “I think I remember how.... I didn’t like how people treat these little pieces.”

“What?” He softly scoffs, an entertained grin growing on his lips. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Well….. T-These pieces represent people don’t they? This is a strategy game…. To represent a war or battle.”

Baffled at that assessment, Martin gazes back at the marble pieces and shrugs. “I…. I suppose you are correct in that regard… what is your point, child?”

Rhemi looks back down finding the right words to explain how she felt. “In this game… pawns are dispensable, their movements are limited, unlike the other pieces behind them. But because there are more of them, they are more expendable than the other taller pieces.” She pauses as she looks as she picks up one of the pawns with a few chips and cracks in it, reminding her of her poor Muriel for some reason and the way Lucio used him for so many years for his own entertainment. “People really shouldn’t treat others like that. Some…. object that can be used and taken out with little to no consequences. They are just some game piece to them, not another person…”

Martin stops himself from mid sputter trying his best not to laugh out loud. “Well…. now your spouting off nonsense.” He mumbles as he leans his back into the lounge chair, crossing his legs and resting his hand on his temple. “... This is just a game after all—”

“—I would happily agree with you, Rhemi.” Nadia’s silky smoothe voice interrupts and Martin and Rhemi stand quickly to their feet slightly taken by surprise. Stunning and beautiful as always, she strolls into the room, her heels clicking the floor, dressed in her white and green outfit and her hair half up and half down. Pascal trailing behind her with a grin on his face. “... If you think about it that way, the game is rather horrible that some pieces are labeled as not being as important as others. But in reality, the good leader should acknowledge that all of the pieces are important, no matter how small or limited they are.”

Martin bows very traditionally and elegantly, Beatrix hanging off his shoulders looking lifeless. “... Countess.”

However Rhemi just casually rushes to Nadia and wraps her arms around her and he raises an eyebrow at her informalness and lack of edict or manners.

“It’s so good to see you! Thank you so much for lending me your tailor again!” Martin’s child so boldly and informally converses making him stunned for words.

The Countess just smiles and hugs her back with a bright smile. “Oh, the pleasure is all mine. I hope you don’t mind, but Pierre let me get a sneak peak of it.”

“Ohh! Really???” Rhemi’s cheeks get all flushed and hot once again and she cups her face with her hands. “W-What do you think of it??”

“Oh, it’s just lovely, Rhemi. Just perfect for you. I can not wait to see you in it—Or Muriel seeing you in it for that matter.”

“Ooooo!! Realllly???? Thank you, Nadia!”

Suddenly, Martin clears his throat rather loudly, cutting through the two’s giddy laughter. “Countess Satrinava.”

The countess's eyes suddenly darken hearing the Archmagister’s voice and she forced back on a smile. “Ah yes… Monsieur Martin.” He approaches her with his chest puff out and she returns a polite curtsy. She then extends her hand out and he kisses to top of her knuckles, very diplomatic and traditional like. “...It has been ages, I haven't seen you since King Francis’ Spring ball six years ago… How have you been?” The Countess asks, fakely attempting to be interested.

“Quiet fine, thank you for asking.” Martin smirks back with a devious look. “... However I do fear that you haven’t been receiving my letters because I haven't gotten any back over the years. In fact, I have been around your city this morning, no flyers have been posted either.”

Nadia’s shoulder slightly tenses as if she knew and dreaded what he was about to say. Yet, she keeps a calm and composed face. “I do owe you my apologies. I have had other obligations this past year….. just a small war to save the world and clean up my city after pure evil attempted to rule our realm….”

“Ahhh…. yes… so I’ve heard... Most understandable. Things such as that are to be expected when a woman is in a position such as yourself… You really shouldn’t be so harsh on yourself, Nadia.”

“And what position would that be, Sir Martin?” Nadia remains poised and collected, but Rhemi could tell, she was getting irritated.

Martin smirks while placing both hands on his cane out in front of him. “One with great responsibility and little power, of course, Countess…. Ruling a city is a man’s job after all.”

An awkward tense silence takes hold for a moment and Nadia just flutters her eyes and fakely smiles a bit wider at his blunt rudeness. “... So nice to see you again, Archmagister. Do enjoy your stay.”

Eloquently, she turns her back to Martin tugging Rhemi along, giving her attention back to her champion, ignoring that rude and very sexist comment. “So, my dear champion. What brings you here? I do apologize for my tardiness. Especially when you had such ‘lovely’ company that also failed to show up for tea time yesterday.” She says that last part loud enough for him to hear.

“Well… ahhhhhh, we had tea scheduled for this afternoon—” Rhemi replies awkwardly.

The Countess shakes her head, instantly remembering. “Oh! Yes of course! How could I forget, I have sandwiches, biscuits, and tea being made as we speak—Oh, and your favorite~”

“Oooo—Agrippa’s strawberry lemon cake???” Rhemi says wiggling her hips excitedly.

Nadia nods with a bright smile, laughing at Rhemi’s pure overjoyed expression. “Portia was so kind to pick it up. Her and her brother should be here any minute, won’t they? Shall we have it on the balcony? It’s a lovely day.” She says looping her arm around Rhemi’s.

“Yes, but, ahhhh….” Suddenly, the apprentice stops her feet and politely pulls away. “Actually, I, ah, wanted to introduce someone to you, but I gather you’ve already met.”

Nadia interlaces her fingers together and rests her hands in front of her, wearing a rather confused expression. “...Oh?”

Her eyes follow Rhemi as she walks back over to Martin and loops her arm through his. “Nadia…. Sir Martin is my father….”

Nadia’s eyes widen, completely shocked. “Your…. father…?”

The Archmagister smiles at her with his nose high and stares at her condescendingly. “Ah yes…. Without any of your help I ended up finding my daughter myself—-But to my pleasant surprise she was alive. And in your city no doubt. What are the odds of the place that refused to comply with posting my wanted posters was the exact place where I found her.”

“Your…. His daughter?? The child who was stolen by an evil witch?”

Rhemi’s face suddenly flushes. Even Nadia knew about me?

“I…. I guess so.” She shrugs slightly embarrassed.

Nadia can’t help but flutter her eyelashes, gazing speechlessly to her champion. Finally she opens her mouth and looks toward Martin with a bit of guilt. “But…. you’ve been looking for her for—”

“—For fifteen years, seven months, a week, two days, and seven hours…. Yes…” Martin interjects with a sour and slightly angry, yet smug expression. “... But who’s counting?”

With Nadia completely gobsmacked and silent, Rhemi mutters. “I was hoping it would be alright if I invited him for tea time with Julian and Portia, so he could get to know my friends….. U-Unless of course that’s rude—”

“—No! No. It’s quite alright.” Nadia says shaking out of her stupor. “... Besides this afternoon was for you anyways, this may be the last tea you have as a single woman.”

“Oh you’re right. Didn’t think about that!... But it's better to ask right?”

“Of course.” Nadia looks towards Pascal as nods to cue him to lead them all towards the balcony.

“If you would follow me…” Pascal quickly says before whipping around to escort them all to the balcony.

Nadia hangs back staring at Rhemi and Sir Martin as they link arms having a terrible feeling about all of this and her temples start to twinge with slight pain.

—————————————

As soon as Portia and Julian arrive Rhemi greets them with a loving hug, but they immediately notice Sir Martin and a look of horror and confusion strikes their face. They only remember this man from the other day. But Rhemi explains the situation and they change their attitude quickly, happy for their friend for being reunited with her long lost father.

The Devoraks do their very best to be kind and friendly to the Archmagister, evening apologizing for their behavior (even though they did nothing wrong). Julian introduces himself with a small bow as he reaches his hand to offer to shake it. But Sir Martin slightly turns his nose up at the commoner and waits a grueling amount of seconds before finally taking his hand with only saying almost sarcastically, “Charmed…”.

Portia bows as well, and even puts donns her diplomatic hat being a chamberlain herself now, in attempts to easily converse with him on a relatable level. But the old magician just smirks and quietly chuckles at her attempt to presume that her position, a chamberlain to a mere Countess was anything like being a head chamberlain and Archmagister to a very wealthy and powerful monarch. Nevertheless Martin does at least take her hand and kisses the top of her knuckles and even says, “How do you do.”

As all four sit down and get settled and the tea is being brought out and being poured. The inescapable tension was relentlessly building with the silence. A servant pours the Archmagister’s tea and sets down a plate of biscuits in front of him and he mutters in an irritated manner, “Please, do wear gloves, girl. I don’t want to see your revolting cracked hands when you're handling my food.”

The poor servant’s face turns red with humiliation and she hasilty hides them behind her back. “Y-yes Sir… My apologies, Sir Alarie.”

Baffled at his rudeness, Rhemi, Julain and Portia stay quiet and glance over to Nadia, who stares at the old foreign diplomat with her head gracefully tilted with a fake, yet amused grin. “Oh, and how do you suppose her hands became cracked in the first place, Sir Martin? My servants shouldn’t have to be ashamed that they work diligently for a living. For you to judge her for it all the while you have a silver spoon in your mouth… Well… Should I just say that is rather ignorant of you.”

It appears that Martin was about to retaliate with a snide comment back to her but Rhemi awkwardly fake coughs. “Thank you Claudia. It looks amazing. Please tell the chef thank you.”

Her interjection to smooth things over seemed to have shut her father up for now and the terrible silence takes hold yet again. Rhemi stirs her tea, making it the way she likes and tries her best to fight the flush warming up her face from her father’s behavior. A wave of dread washes over her as she takes a small sip and thinking perhaps she made a mistake introducing everyone to him like this today. It was rather sudden and last minute after all, and she didn’t expect him to act this way. In her mind, this would have been more like a fairy tale or a book, a long lost father reuniting with the heroine’s life at the end of the story and they all lived happily ever after… But then again…. this is reality, and fairy tales and books are in the end, just that. A story. Things don’t anyway go the way you want them to….

Finally, the Countess decides to make some small talk asking Portia about the reconstruction progress of the Temple district and the tension starts to finally subside a bit. Martin even engaged in the conversation at least with the parts about Charlès’ part in supplying raw materials such as iron, bronze, and steel. The conversation then went to Rhemi with the wedding planning, then to Julian and how his clinic was going…

“Things have been keeping me busy, that’s for sure! Lately it's been a lot of springtime cold, but nothing too serious…” Julian goes on taking a long sip of his tea.

“Mmmm. Interesting.” Martin attempts to engage in the conversation for his daughter’s sake. “Tell me Doctor, are you married?”

“No, actually…” But perhaps one day I’ll marry the person I love.”

“Hmmm I’m sure she’s just lovely…. Hope she doesn’t mind having many late nights by the sound of your business.”

“...Err... ’He’ actually.” Julian corrects him with a faint bit of red on his face with a love stuck expression.

But the old nobleman really chokes on his sip of tea and he bats his eyelashes, perplexed. “....Sorry?”

Julian’s left eye darts back and forth to him and Rhemi, shrugging his shoulders. “Ummm- Errr…. About-?”

“You correct me… And said...?”

“Yes….” Rhemi jumps in thinking her father just didn’t hear him right. “Ilya said ‘he’. Asra, the one you met yesterday. White-ish hair, also a magician. That’s Julian’s partner.”

A snide and almost vicious scowl contorts the man’s face. “.....So….. You are having relations…. withhhhhhhh….. another man?” Martin inquires further as he gives Beatrix a few berries.

“Yeeeeeeeeeeesss.” Julian replies, not understanding the issue here starting to furrow his brow as well.

“So you have a….. male… bbbbooooyfriend?”

Nadia whispers to her servant rather quietly, helpless to watch as this all unfolds in front of her. “... Pascal, do bring us a bottle of wine.”

“....Asra actually prefers to use the term partner.” Rhemi adds bring her tea to her lips. “He doesn’t identify with gender specific roles. He’s male leaning, but he’s non-binary.”

“Oh, good god…” Martin grumbles rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Before Pascal gets too far, Nadia tugs his sleeve, and whispers again with her nostrils flared. “Better make that two….”

The Archmagister catches a glimpse of his daughter's saddened face. He adjusts his sitting and swallows his opinions… badly. “I ah, see….” He takes a sip of his tea slowly swallowing it. “So….. Which, ah, which one of you takes it in the ass then?” He quickly adds, unable to help himself.

“PPPPPPFFFFT—” Rhemi slightly sputters in her cup at that, her eyes wide.

Portia nearly drops her teacup speechless at this comment. If this was in a tavern she’d have thrown his ass down by now. But her brother just smiles, calmly placing his tea cup down with a hard clank and leans in closer to the Archmagister. Despite his smug smile, it’s clear that he’s deeply offended. “Well…. I guess that depends on the night. Because we use a schedule. At least we don’t have something constantly shoved up our—”

BOOM!! CHATTER CHATTER!--

“—Ooooooookayyyyyy!!” Rhemi loudly interjects slamming down both of her hands on the table making everything rumble and shake as she nearly jumps to a stand.

“—Well, Nadia, it has been loads of fun, thank you so much for having us—but would you look at the time!” She quickly rants, pulling her father’s chair out then tugging his arm and pulling him out of his chair. “My father and I wanted to check out the library for a few things together, isn’t that right?” She says slightly gritting her teeth. “Didn’t we??”

“Oh… yes of course… If you would excuse us.” He begrudgingly complies with her lie and he bows to Nadia. “Countess…”

Nadia nods her head with a forced grin. “Archmagister….”

With that, Rhemi waves her friends ta-ta for now and nearly drags her father into the palace and straight to the library feeling so terrible for her friend right now.

As soon as they approach their destination silently, Rhemi opens the doors with a wave of her magic and nearly sprints in and shuts the doors behind her. For a moment, she presses her back against the double doors and sighs feeling relieved that she managed to escape that terrible scenario with one of her best friends and her father. A stone cold silence washes over the large room while Martin casually strolls about talking in the splendor of the stained glass windows. Unable to think of a way to tell her father what he had said was unacceptable, she continues to stay silently and decides to walk over to a mountain of books she was actually borrowing about Parka.  

“So… that went well—” Martin murmurs and Beatrix jumps off his shoulders and sniffs the couches scouring for some old crumbs. “Well, I am sure you had a reason to carry me away from good tea—”

Martin turns to look at his daughter, but he realizes she's no longer behind him. “R-....Rhemielia?”

Rhemi awkwardly rushes up a ladder, rummages through some more books in the section she was in before, trying not to look at her father. She doesn’t mean to give him a cold shoulder, but she really thought tea would have gone better. How could he have asked such a rude and homophobic question to one of her dearest friends? She loves that Julian and Asra are together, they just make sense in an odd way. Now that she thought about it, Rhemi didn't remember the last time she heard anyone mock someone else’s sexuality. Here in Vesuvia, and in most places of the world for that matter, people are incredibly open-minded and don’t bat an eyelash when someone is attracted to the same sex or both—No one really cares! And neither should they. It’s no one else’s business honestly. 

Martin notices her silence and he walks over to where she is. “Well, Pigeon. Your er-ummm.….choices in friends are…. well… rather curious—”

“—Heads-up.” Rhemi knowingly interrupts, throwing down a book and Martin catches after a little fumble with a bit of shock.

With the room quiet yet again, he stares at her as she tries to ignore him for a while. The only sound being made is Beatrix’s sniffing and his daughter flipping through the pages then places a book back on the shelf.

Martin lets out a sigh, as he conjures his magic into his hand, making the book levitate in the air so he didn’t have to hold it. Feeling a little annoyed at the moment, he straightens his cravat on his neck and begrudgingly asks. “.... Something on your mind, Rhemielia?”

Rhemi then kicks the ladder making the wheels roll a few feet away to hunt for a few books in a different section.

Her father following her at the end of the ladder. “Rhemielia?” He repeats.

Finally she huffs heavily heartedly and replies. “... Père, you don’t ask those questions to people.”

Martin just looks up at his child and scoffs with a half grin. “.... And why not?”

“W-Well…. It’s just… ahhh— well....” Rhemi fumbles over her words as she continues to skim through the books looking for that particular subject about genetics. “...Despite his openness, Ilya might not want to converse to a stranger about his intimacy… No one ask you about your sex life. You shouldn’t just make assumptions about his—or any of my friends for that matter.”

Martin fidgets in his spot, unable to remember the last time someone talked to him like this. “Perhaps not, but my sex life didn’t involve another man, Rhemielia…. Forgive me for being intolerant, but it’s just not natural and disgusting-.”

“Disgusting to you perhaps! And how is it not natural?” Rhemi quickly responds with her nose in another book. “... Most herd animals spend their time with other males except for breeding season and engage in sexual activities. Nope… already read this one.” She quietly mutters that last part to herself as she returns the dud book back.

Martin’s brow starts to furrow as he stifles the rage in the pit of his stomach with the thought of that. He can’t believe his only child is defending such behaviors. But he keeps his feelings buried, but just barely. “Humans aren’t filthy animals, Rhemielia…. at least most aren’t... And I really don’t believe a conversation about copulation with my long lost daughter is appropriate—”

“Too late—” She adds, handing him another heavy book, and he makes it float in the air as she slides down the ladder and faces him very boldly. “If that's the case, then isn’t wearing shoes, or undergarments, or overly fancy capes made from dead worm cocoons also deemed ‘unnatural’?.”

“Rhemielia, I really do think this highly distasteful topi—” Martin suddenly stops, eyes wide in bewilderment realizing what she had just said. “I-.... I’m sorry, did you just say, ‘dead worm…. cocoons’?”

“Yes.” She says with a very as-matter-of-fact look on her face.

Martin just stares at her, completely confused and looks down at his expensive garment. “Wha—??”

Instantly, Rhemi grabs one of her books her father is floating in the air and quickly flips through the pages. “Do-too-doo…. Silkworms, silkwoooorms… Ah! Yes—Right here.” Rhemi then takes a hold of her father’s fancy cape and shakes it with one hand while handing her father an open book with the other. “... ‘Silk is made from inorganic fibers that are made from creatures called ‘silkworms’. They’re found in places such as Parka and Nopal and other northern places. Silk is harvested by the cocoon that the silkworm makes. The worms are boiled alive while incubating in a said cocoon, then the thread is extracted so it can be woven into fabric.’..” She points to the left page as she turns around. “It’s all on page 194, paragraph eight.”

Rhemi then pulls out a spare biscuit and gives it to the poor hungry badger. The happy little animal takes it and scarfs it down, she even allows Rhemi to pet her gently on the head some more, no hint of aggression or mistrust.

Bewildered and with squinting eyes, Martin hastily skims the paragraph then tilts his head. “Hmmm… Well… that’s ah, fascinating?... I…. I suppose—However…. I believe I fail to understand what this has to do with anything, my little Pigeon...”

His daughter turns back around dropping her shoulders, the look in her eyes are almost hurt. He can’t help but admire how much she looks like her mother right now. “....Those people you meet today are my friends, Père. Really good ones in fact. I see now that Charlès must not be as…open minded?—Like the rest of the world. But these are my friends. Asra and Julian are in love and I really do think they belong together. So, please, at least for my sake, be nice to them...”

“A rather steep request to ask when your friends have such terrible lifestyle choices. I don’t agree with, I don’t understand how you—”

“—That isn’t a choice, Father.” She interrupts, collecting the books out of the air and placing them onto the table next to Beatrix still licking her little claws clean. “... And you don’t have to understand it in order to respect it.”

“..... Rrrrrrrrrespect it?” He snootily sneer, both eyes half closed.

For one reason or another this expression on his face makes her uncomfortable. “Well… Yes… At least for me. They are all a huge part of my life.” She says. Then, rather dramatic and ominous pause starts to take residence in this tense conversation.

“.... Hmpf… My god what has that witch done to you?” Her father says as he shakes his head slowly.

The man’s icy teal eyes pierce Rhemi like a freshly sharpened blade and she feels it cut her to her core. Obviously what she said has upset him. The longer he stares the smaller and smaller she feels under his gaze. But this is about her friends after all. They are practically a part of her family and they have fought by her and Muriel’s side, the least thing she can do is stick up for them.

She pushes down her uneasiness and puffs out her chest like she always does when she needs the confidence. “I…. I think I’ve always been this way. Perhaps you just didn’t notice.”

Beatrix suddenly jumps off the table and hides underneath it abandoning her precious biscuit. And a strange, yet powerful tense energy fills the room. It feels like a low rumble almost like an earthquake, yet nothing in the room is shaking or rattling. But Martin’s cold eyes are fixed on his daughter, increasingly becoming more intimidating as he just glares, visually trying his best to keep himself from contorting his face in disgust.

At last his eyes leave his poor daughter and she can feel her body start to unclench as he glances to his gloved hands, clicking his tongue before speaking. “I fear that the sinful place has tainted you, my dear….” His face softens when his head lifts back up to look at her once again, a half fake smile on his face. “But, fear not, we’ll correct that in due time.”

Rhemi’s eyes flutter with that last comment almost afraid to ask. “....What do you—”

“—Oi! Rhemiiiiii!!” The large double doors creak open and Portia calls from the library entrance. “It’s four o’clock!”

“—OH! CRAP! I’m late again!” Suddenly Rhemi runs up to her father a quick hug and gives him a peck on the left cheek. She can feel his shoulder stiffen as she embraces him, taken back with her rather loving affection despite the tense conversation that was just had. But his face softens, icy glare deteriorates like snow melting away on a warm spring day as he hugs her back. “Sorry, I have to get back to the shop before five. I have a rheumatism potion I have to finish before a customer comes for it this afternoon.”

“Oh. I see. You’re a busy one I see...”

“Yeah. Guess so.”

“.... Could I see you tomorrow then, perhaps for tea? I must attend a trading meeting after that, and I believe Portia… I believe it was?... She will be there too.”

“Oh…. umm, Y-yeah… Sure! That’s fine. That’ll be great.” Oddly, she’s unable to stop the feeling like she’s fibbing when she says that, her eyes avert towards the large stained glass windows.

Perhaps, tomorrow won’t be as bad as this afternoon… She thinks to herself. Yeah—He’s just not used to people who are different from him, that's all—Yeah!.... He just might need some more time, get to know them all. I’m sure he’ll come around... Realize that he’s wrong about them.

“See you tomorrow then.” As she turns to leave, Martin keeps a hold of her left wrist. She pulls it back instinctively, but her father squeezes even harder, almost too tightly.

“Rhemielia, my child?”

She cranks her head back around, that sincere and pleading expression returning to her father’s face. “...Aren’t you tired of brewing potions for mere pocket change?”

What? What kind of question is that? Puzzled at this question she tilts her head and asks, “.... I’m sorry?”

“Do you really want to be working all your life in that dusty little shop?”

For a moment she ponders on this thought. She never thought about it to be honest.

As Rhemi tugs her hand once again to take it back, thinking a little harder on what he asked. Yet, he doesn’t let go. In fact, his grip actually tightens around her wrist, and it starts to hurt her. Her face starts to bead sweat, her temples pulsate with twinges of pain yet again and she feels her stomach drop. “P-Père, you’re—you're hurting me.” She whimpers.

Blankly he slowly blinks, as if he didn’t hear her.

“P-Père?.... My wrist… You’re hurting it.”

Finally he glances to her small wrist before finally letting it go. “Ah… Ahem—My apologies, my sweet Pigeon.”

Once Rhemi's wrist is finally released, she stands there rubbing it a bit with her opposite hand. Her skin slightly stinging from his firm grip and the friction of the leather gloves. She didn’t like it when people held her too hard like that, it made her feel so uncomfortable, like she was vulnerable and weak. But she never felt her head ache like that before.

After the stinging dissipates, she places her hands to her side and she sheepishly replies, “.... Well… the shop me and Muriel’s livelihood. How else am I supposed to live?”

An entertained chuckle erupts from the Archmagister’s lips and Beatrix climbs his arm and rests across his shoulders. “Why, back home with me in Charlès of course. You’ll live much more comfortably there. I want you to rejoin the court… back with me.”

Lost for any words, Rhemi stands there feeling like an explosion had just gone off in her head. “Back home… to Charlès?” She repeats.

Her father adjusts his cane, making a faint clank while he straightens back up, puffing his chest out and nodding. “You’re conflicted I see. I half expected you would be. It is a rather bold question for me to ask when we’ve only been reunited for two short days….. Don’t worry, you don’t have to answer me now… just think about it, Rhemielia.”

“O-.... okay. I will.” Uncomfortably she replies, her head now spinning. Finally she shakes out of her own thoughts and smiles awkwardly. “Goodnight, Père… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, my little Pigeon…. Think about what I said.”

“I… I will….” She mumbles as she shuts the door leaving the Archmagister alone in the library with his familiar.

Beatrix sniffs the air cautiously. “Master angry at Pigeon?”

Martin takes a deep breath as he tries to stop his anger and magic from overflowing. “This is all Phara’s doing, Beatrix... That fucking cunt of a witch… Teaching my child such disgusting tolerance for filthy homosexual deviants. That’s precisely why the rest of the world is behind Charlès, Bea. They let perverted cock-sucking fools muck about and run things… this city was nearly all in ruins just a year ago. And that is all because of these fucking liberal fools...” 

Trying to calm his anger he takes one of the books Rhemi was reading through in his hands and it bursts into purple and green flames with his magic and he watches with gratification as it burns into dust.

“The world outside of Charlès is disgusting…..” He says picking up one of the books she was reading in disgust. “...It isn’t Rhemielia’s fault she doesn’t remember better… Surrounded by such books, people… and ideals about a backwards way of living. Deprived of morals or sensibility. I will just have to…. remind her of what the correct morals are.”

✨To be continued...

**April fools =P Sorry I had too! XD

Anyways! Thanks so much for reading my hot garbage! I hope you guys didn't mind the very very long chapter! 

For all you thirsty trash pandas, the smut will be next chapter *wink wink*

**Agrippa (the baker’s apprentice) belongs to @victorscribbles

[brax-was-here]

Scarlet Briar: The Seeds of Life Chapter 9

Written by: Braxxus

Chapter 9: Mysteries Are Meant to Be Solved

Sometimes it’s the little things that help us

Nafiona stood on a ridge overlooking the landscape that lay before her. The jungle was bathed in a haze of gold as she stared at the gleaming palace that lay far in the distance. They had stopped to rest for a moment near a set of stone ruins.

“What do you think this monolith is?” she heard Caelan ask behind her.

“I don’t know, but you would think the pact would figure out a way to shut off this annoying buzz in the air.” Another courtier complained.

“Ordhram…” Nafiona called for her subordinate.

“Yes, m’lady?” He walked up beside her.

“What do you make of that?” She gestured to the structure in the distance.

“It looks like…maybe a castle, m’lady.” He responded. “Seemingly made of gold by the way the jungle surrounded glows.”

“That is my thoughts as well. Do you think that which we seek would be there?” she questioned, her eyes narrowing.

Ordram pondered a moment. “It’s possible, m’lady. But would the jungle dragon build such a place?”

“Not in the short span he was awake.” She remarked.

“What is that!?” she heard one of her courtiers yell. She turned quickly with weapons drawn to see an ethereal figure clad in ornate gold armor floating before them.

“You are the same as the one who watches over the egg.” It spoke.

“The egg?” Nafiona muttered, looking at Ordhram, who returned her look just as confused. They turned their gaze back to the ethereal being.

“What are you?” Ordhram asked sternly, brandishing his sword.

“I am Dansha. Exalted protector of Tarir and the lands around it.” It replied, its voice stern.

“Dansha?” Caelan asked.

“What is Exalted?” Nafiona asked.

“We are the protectors and caretakers of Tarir and Glint’s legacy.”

“Glint’s legacy?” Nafiona gave the creature a curious look. “You mean the crystal dragon?”

“The scion of Kralkatorrik. She constructed the palace of Tarir and entrusted us to safeguard her legacy from those that would destroy it.”

“So, it’s an egg, not a seed?” Nafiona asked thoughtfully.

“That is correct.” Dansha answered. Nafiona looked at Ordhram with a slight mischievous smirk.

“Can we see the egg?” she asked turning back to the Exalted.

“You cannot. Only those deemed worthy to be the eggs protector may see the egg.”

“Oh? So how do we become its protector?” she smiled.

“A champion has already been chosen. No other may be chosen.” The Exalted replied.

“A champion? Interesting.” Nafiona pondered a moment. She looked at Ordhram. “What do you think?”

Ordhram looked at the palace in the distance. “It may be beneficial to our search to visit this place.” He suggested.

“Agreed.” She looked back at the floating entity. “Dansha? May we visit Tarir?”

“Of course. You will be allowed to see the city proper.”  He turned and started floating down the pathway before them.

Nafiona smiled at Ordhram. “Let’s go, shall we?”

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Orla could see the buildings of Camp Resolve coming into view as the caravan lumbered across the sand. The sun beat down upon her as she sat chained to the carriage. She pondered what was in store for her once they arrived at the camp. Reaching the gate, the caravan stopped before entering. A group of Pact guards walked along the carriages checking the supply boxes.

“What do we have here?” a guard asked as he climbed over the railing into the carriage holding Orla.

“What does it look like? I’m being held prisoner against my will.” She snapped at him.

“A troublemaker that apparently stole some armor and weapons or something like that.” the Priory member answered from outside the carriage.

“I see. And I guess we’re to keep her here then. Another sylvari to add to the cave.”

“The cave?” she asked.

“Yep. Can’t seem to trust your kind after what you all did during the fighting. Apparently, we have to keep an eye on you until you’re deemed trustworthy again.” The guard said to her as he climbed back down. 

“Alright. Bring em in!” a voice shouted from the gate. The carriage lurched forward again. Orla watched the gate slowly pass by as the caravan entered the camp. The caravan was brought to rest in front of a larger storage building. Pact members started climbing over the carriages, removing supply boxes and materials. The Priory scholar that had always been with her carriage, climbed aboard and unlocked Orlas chains from the floor of the carriage.

“Let’s go.” She ordered. Another guard helped Orla down from the carriage.

“Take her in. We’ll get someone to take her to the cave after we get everything unloaded.”

“This cave doesn’t sound like a pleasant place.” Orla spouted as they walked her into the building.

“You’ll be at home with the rest of you sylvari.” The guard responded. She sat Orla in a chair and shackled her to a building support. “I would tell you to wait here, but I don’t think you’re going anywhere.” The guard said to her as she turned towards the door.

“Oh, you are just so funny.” Orla replied snidely. She tugged at the shackles, sighing deeply. She looked around the room full of supply crates, various metal items and random parts.

“The prisoner is in here?” someone asked from outside.

“Yes. I have her shackled to the building.” The guard responded, stepping aside. Another pact soldier, a tall dark-skinned human, entered and looked at Orla.

“A thief, huh. You don’t look like a thief. You look more like…a weed that grew in the street. Put her with the others.”

Orla’s face turned sour. “A weed. I’ll show you just how deadly a weed can be.” She muttered. The guard undid her shackles once again and walked her out.

“Scholar, or you, Whispers agent. Either of you.” The dark-skinned human shouted at a nearby group that were sorting through some of the boxes.

“Yes?” one of them turned to him.

“I want you two to accompany this soldier and her prisoner to the cave. Be quick about it. We have work to do.”

The priory member sighed. “Yes, sir.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m a little tired of these arrogant Vigil ordering us around.” The whispers agent spoke quietly.

“Me too.” The scholar replied as they moved towards the approaching guard with Orla in tow.

“Let’s go.” The scholar and whispers agent fell in behind Orla as the group moved to the entrance of the camp. They approached a large stone in a cliffside that Orla squinted at.

“That’s out of place.” She thought to herself. Another whispers agent appeared out of nowhere and bowed to the group. He turned and tapped on the boulder before disappearing from sight. The giant stone rolled slowly to the side, revealing a cave entrance.

“Take her inside with the others.” The scholar ordered. The agent grabbed Orla’s chains and walked her inside. The cave passage was dimly lit as they passed through. It opened into a large area littered with cots and other makeshift furniture. There were various sylvari about, some sleeping, others talking amongst themselves. Some looked towards Orla.

“Nightmare Court.” One spoke nearby. A hushed murmur went through the room.  

“What is going on here? What are you doing to them!?” Orla turned to the agent. “You keep us trapped here!?” Another agent appeared, holding a sword to Orla’s throat. She glared at him, taken aback that it was a sylvari.

“This is only temporary, courtier. We are only here until the pact is sure we are truly free from the dragon’s influence.” One of the sylvari spoke up. “We are not trapped here.”

“Hands up.” The agent said sternly. Orla put her hands up in front of her. The agent in one swift movement quickly unlatched the locking device keeping her hands shackled. The other did the same to the shackles around her ankles.

“Be warned.” The sylvari agent spoke quietly. “We are watching.” The two agents disappeared from site. Orla turned to look at the group before her.

“Come, courtier. In this room we are all the same. Come eat with us.”

Orla looked perturbed at the sylvari. “I won’t be staying here.” She muttered before resigning herself to join the others.

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

“The jungle looks so pretty here!” Liathlas excitedly exclaimed as the trio moved through the brush. The entire area was bathed in a golden glow.

“The energy radiating from Tarir gives the jungle around it an aura.” Malyck explained. “But still, we should be cautious.”

“If the Nightmare Court came this way, do you think they would try to enter?” Liathlas asked, looking at Ceara.

“I was just wondering the same thing.” Ceara looked thoughtfully. “Malyck, what else is kept in Tarir other than the supposed dragon egg?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never entered. The few times I got close the doors were always sealed. Guarded by beings of energy.”

“Energy? What do you mean?”

“Energy. I’m not sure how to explain it. They float but have a head and arms like we do clad in a gold armor.”

“Interesting. I’d like to see these beings.”

Malyck suddenly raised his hand for them to stop. “Down! Now!” He whispered dropping to the dirt. They followed suit.

“What’s going on?” Ceara asked when suddenly an arrow penetrated the ground beside her.

“Get under cover now!” Malyck ordered. The group rushed through the brush as arrows flew passed them. They ducked behind some fallen trees and rocks, crouching down out of view. Malyck unholstered his pistol as Ceara unslung her rifle.

“What’s out there?” Ceara asked quietly.

“I’m not sure.” Malyck replied.

Ceara turned to Liathlas. “Stealth us, and let’s try to find out.” Liathlas cast a stealth field around them. The trio peered out from behind their cover, looking over the jungle.

“I’m not seeing anything.” Liathlas whispered.

“Me either, not yet anyway.” Ceara spoke.

“They are there. Whatever they are they are waiting for us to move.”

“What do we do?” Ceara asked as the stealth field faded.

“This will-“ Malyck suddenly turned a fired his pistol, striking a dark colored Itzel in the head, sending it falling backwards. Another landed on the log in front of them, brandishing two daggers. Ceara shot it with her rifle, knocking it back. Arrows started hitting the foliage and rocks near them.

“Go! Now!” The group started rushing through the brush. Their escape cut short as Malyck was tackled by another Itzel. They rolled across the ground, the Itzel pinning him down when they came to rest. Ceara turned to see the Itzel with its blade in the air about to strike Malyck when she charged it, knocking it to the ground. It rolled to its feet. Malyck fired a shot at it, hitting it in the torso as Ceara flipped her rifle around and swung it as hard as she could, hitting it in its chin knocking it backwards.

“Why didn’t you shoot it!?” Malyck asked angrily.

“Because I only have a couple rounds left and we might need them!”

Liathlas teleported backwards as another attacked her with its blade. She conjoured two illusions of herself that attacked the oncoming Itzel. It leapt at one, passing through it. Quickly it turned, only to be locked in place as a field of energy appeared at its feet. Her clones continued their attack as the trio heard the sound of a horn echo through the treetops. More Itzel dropped from the trees surrounding them.

“Well, this is…this doesn’t look good for our team.” Ceara said matter of factly.

“What do you want with us?” Malyck hollered.

“You are trespassing on our territory.” One of the Itzel remarked.

“We are just passing through. Nothing more.” He added.

“Then you wi-“ The Itzel was cut short as a spear pierced the back of his head.

“You will not harm these people this day.” The group turned to see a group of large froglike creatures moving quickly through the brush towards them. Some brandishing spears, some with bows, and others with giant Warhammer-like weapons.

“Nuhock!” Malyck shouted. He turned and shot one of the Itzel.

“This is our land, Nuhock!” One of the Itzel shouted. Arrows launched as some of the Itzel turned to attack the lumbering group. Ceara dodged a spear as one Itzel lunged at her, smashing the butt of her rifle against the side of its head. It screamed in rage as it relentlessly attacked her, a flurry of melee attacks putting her on the defensive.  The Itzel slashed at her, the tip of spear slicing her abdomen. She felt her blood start to run as an arrow from a nuhock bow pierced the Itzel’s knee, causing it to lurch in pain. With a mighty swing of her rifle, she hit the creature in the jaw, knocking it away.

Liathlas created as many clones of herself as she could. So many that even her allies couldn’t tell which was the real mesmer. They attacked every Itzel within sight as she placed fields at their feet, looking them in place. One Itzel appeared out of nowhere behind her, grabbing her by the neck. It attempted to drive its dagger into her throat, but she teleported out of its grasp.

“Not this time!” She hollered. The Itzel turned to her voice, just in time to see the end of her staff meeting one of its large eyes. She sent a charge of eldritch energy through the staff, paralyzing the creature as it yelped in pain, before it dropped to the ground. She turned her attention to Ceara, who she could see was bleeding from her stomach.

“Cea-“ Liathlas we cut off by a searing pain in her back as she felt a sharp blade plunge into it.

Malyck took aim at the Itzel that had just driven its dagger between Liathlas shoulders. Pulling the trigger, he shot the creature in the back of the head, causing it to fall forward knocking Liathlas to the ground.

“Your friends need to learn better fighting techniques.” One of the giant frog creatures rumbled as he swung his giant hammer, smashing an Itzel to the ground.

“Not the proper time for this discussion.” Malyck growled as he dodged a spear being thrust by one of the Itzel. He grabbed the haft and used the frog creature’s momentum to pull it towards him. He shoved his pistol in its large mouth and pulled the trigger, sending the back of the Itzel’s head flying in a spray of blood and brain matter.

“Brothers, sisters. We must retreat!” One of the Itzel shouted. A horn echoed once again through the treetops and the remaining Itzel leapt away, disappearing from sight. The giant nuhock formed a ring around the sylvari.

“We must tend to your friends.” One of the nuhock spoke. “Search the trees for the bracium moss.” He ordered the others. A few of the massive creatures broke from the circle and started searching through the brush, pulling up clumps of moss and dirt. They returned briefly. Gingerly, the giant dressed Ceara’s wound placing the moss across the cut, and firmly holding it in place. Ceara winced at the stinging pain she felt as the plant was pressed into her abdomen.

“Bite down on this.” Another nuhock spoke softly to Liathlas as it held a small branch in front of her. “It will help as we remove the blade from your body.” Liathlas bit down and grimaced. She felt the nuhock grab the hilt of the dagger.

“Now.” It spoke. It pulled the knife out quickly. Liathlas yelped as the pain shot through her body. She spit the branch out as she felt her own blood running down her back. She gasped as she felt the moss being applied to her wound, the sharp stinging pain as it was being held firmly to her back. “You must rest and let the moss do its work.” The nuhock spoke.

“We don’t have time.” Ceara winced again at the sting in her stomach. “We have to get south…as fast as possible.”

“I do not think you are in any condition to travel, lest your wounds will not heal.”

“Give it time to do its work.” Malyck said to her.

“But Nafiona…she-“

“We’ll get there.” Malyck cut her off. “The nuhock ha-

“Well, that’s rather rude.” She spouted. He glared at her, drawing a deep breath.

“As I was saying, the nuhock have ways of getting through the jungle much faster than over land.”

“And how do we do that?”

“The jungle provides.” One of the nuhock spoke, as it dressed Liathlas wound.

“We have burrows through the jungle floor that can take us out of harm’s way.” Said another.

“Well, that would have been handy to have sooner!” Ceara spat.

“Ceara…shush.” Liathlas spoke quietly. “They are trying to help.”

“Can you take us south, to the dragon’s domain?” Malyck asked them.

The nuhock fell silent, looking at each other. “We have burrows that lead to the south, yes.”

“Excellent!” Liathlas whooped. Her excitement was cut short when she looked at Ceara. Ceara’s face was turned away, looking at the ground. A solemn look had befallen her.

Ceara’s chest had tightened at the thought of travelling into Mordremoth’s lair. Her heart started racing as memories floated through her mind. She breathed in deep as she closed her eyes.

“Focus.” She whispered to herself. “Calm yourself.” She felt a hand gently grab her arm. She slowly opened her eyes to see Liathlas looking at her.

“We’re here.” She said softly.

“I can do this.” Ceara whispered. She drew a long breath. She looked at the nuhock standing nearby. “Let’s go.”

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

“This palace is absolutely stunning!” one of Nafiona’s courtiers voice shrieked as they entered through a giant set of golden doors.

“This city represents Glint’s majesty. Used to protect the artifacts that will help keep Tyria’s future peaceful and protected from the dragons.” Dansha spoke as he glided through the hallways.

“How did this place survive Mordremoth?” Another courtier asked.

“The battles were fierce and took a toll on us all. Some of us had to sacrifice ourselves to keep the city safe. Thanks to our allies, we were able to fend off the dragon’s minions during the war.”

“You mean the Pact.” Nafiona stated.

“Correct.” Dansha led them to an open chamber that glistened as the sun shone through an opening in the ceiling. Some members of the Durmond Priory were in the room, studying various etchings and markings on the walls.

“I will admit that this palace is very impressive, indeed.” Nafiona remarked, watching the Priory members. “May we see more of this place?”

“Of course.” The Exalted started floating towards a hallway.

“So, what is Glint’s legacy exactly.” Nafiona questioned.

“The preservation of Tyria and its people by replacing the elder dragons with beings that are less volatile, but still capable of maintaining the balance of magic in Tyria.”

“Less volatile beings?”

“Correct.”

“And what would these beings be?”

“Her scions.”

“Scions? You mean her children?”

“Yes.”

“That would explain the talk of the dragon egg.” Nafiona looked at Ordhram, who returned her gaze.

“The egg is one half of the most important part of Glint’s legacy.” Dansha continued.

“And what is the other half?”

“Her first scion. The dragon known as Vlast. He unfortunately has disappeared.”

“Vlast?” Nafiona pondered on the name. “I do not know that one.” She muttered. The group entered into a large circular courtyard that was open to the jungle above. It was filled with other Exalted. Some standing guard, others going about their way. There were Pact members also in the area, studying artifacts and mulling over papers.  

“This is the central courtyard of the city. Duty calls and I must leave you. You can access much of the city from this area. Please feel free to explore.” Dansha disappeared in a small flash of light.

“Well, he was rather pleasant.” Nafiona turned to Ordhram. “What do you think?”

“This dragon egg seems to be particularly important.” He remarked. “Are you thinking of trying to take it?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.” Nafiona whispered, looking over the courtyard. “We would have to find where they are keeping it. It may take some time.” She paused a moment, looking over her group. “Not to mention we would be severely outmatched here if things went wrong. We don’t know what these beings are capable of, nor how many of the Pact are here. Plus, this “champion” whoever that might be.”

“And the guardian of the egg, whoever it may be.” Ordhram added. Nafiona nodded in agreement. “M’lady, it might be best to save this for another day and we focus on your prize. And there is still the possibility of Scarlet Briar out there.”

Nafiona sneered at the thought. “I’m sure the Pact has already dealt with her.” Her voice sour. “Ordhram, do you think they might have some knowledge of the seed here?”

“If this was built for this ‘Glint’s Legacy’, I would not think there is anything of Mordremoth here.”

Nafiona nodded her agreement.

“M’lady, do we have time to explore?” one of her courtiers asked.

“Perhaps another day. We should be off. Time is of the essence.” She called to her courtiers.

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

“Not exactly the most pleasant way to travel.” Ceara muttered as she splashed water on her face. While using the nuhock burrow was somewhat faster, being in an enclosed space with a group of giant frog-like creatures did not do wonders for her nose.

“It could have been worse.” Liathlas noted. Liathlas stepped into the small spring near the burrow they had exited. “Eeesh!” she yelped.

“It is a little cold but refreshing none the less.” Ceara stepped in as well. “How’s your wound?” she asked as she slowly sat, the cool spring water was relieving against the wound in her stomach.  

“It’s sore. If we get attacked again, I don’t know how I will be able to fight. Whatever this moss is, does seem to be helping.”

“Indeed. It’s something I’ll have to take back with me and study sometime.” Ceara washed the water over her shoulders slowly as she stared at her reflection. Her thoughts drifted to the visions she had experienced.

“Ceara?” Liathlas asked. Ceara snapped back to the present.

“Yes?”

“You were somewhere else, weren’t you?”

“I was.”

“What are we going to do when we find the seed?”

Ceara thought for a moment. Various scenarios played out through her mind. “Take it home to study? Take it to the Grove? Plant it somewhere so I can have my own Pale Tree?”

“I don’t know.” She finally answered. Liathlas was taken aback at the response.

“You don’t know?” Liathlas giggled.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because you are usually five steps ahead everyone else with alternate plans ready just in case.”

“Well, it’s not every day that something like this happens. I came here looking for something, and now I’m looking for something else.”

“And what were you looking for?”

“The possible existence of another Pale Tree…and…him.” Ceara turned her gaze to Malyck, who was conferring with the nuhock nearby.

“Even with the jungle dragon perished, its domain is a dangerous place. Still filled with mordrem.” The nuhock told Malyck. “Our burrows can take you as far as the ruins, but you will have to travel on foot the rest of the journey.”

“We understand. We’ll have to take the risk to retrieve what we are after.”

“The sun sets. We should camp here for the night. This spring and the cave are a secluded place. The mordrem do not come here.”

Malyck nodded his agreement. “Thank you for your help.”

“The jungle provides.”

Malyck turned and walked to the edge of the water. He knelt down and looked at the two women facing him. “We’re camping in the cave tonight. The nuhock say this place is secluded enough that the mordrem never come here.”

“That’s a relief but what about food? Those pact food bricks are rather tasteless.” Ceara asked.

“I do agree with that.” Malyck replied. “A real meal would be nice to have.”

“What do the nuhock eat?” Liathlas inquired.

Malyck slowly turned to look at the giants nearby, his stomach turned at the thought of eating large insects. “I think…” He turned back to her. “I think we’re better off with the food bars.”

“Ugh.” Ceara’s face turned sour. “I was hoping for something real.” She sighed lightly as she her thoughts drifted to the vision again. She glanced at Liathlas, who was washing herself. “Do you think any other trees exist?”

Liathlas stopped for a moment, pondering the thought. “It’s possible, I believe. The jungle is vast. There could be many trees like mother. Or…she could be the only one. But you said you had a vision about a seed. If it were planted, it could grow into another tree.” Liathlas looked at Malyck. He was staring at the water; a somber look crossed his face.

“We must find it before the Nightmare Court does.” Malyck spoke softly, rising to his feet. Ceara and Liathlas nodded in agreement. “We have a long trek ahead of us tomorrow. The dragon’s domain will be very hostile towards us.” He stood, taking a deep breath, before heading towards the cave entrance.

“He told me what happened to his tree and his people.” Liathlas spoke quietly as Ceara watched Malyck disappear into the cave. “He said Mordremoth killed his tree and turned his people into mordrem. Now he searches the jungle for anyone that may have escaped, hoping to gather them and take them to the Grove.”

“Because of me.” Ceara blamed herself silently, her thoughts turning to the recent past.

The duo finished bathing. “He is very honor driven, it seems.” Liathlas mentioned as she climbed out of the spring.

“Just like Amaranda described.” Ceara replied as she stood. “She called him an enigma, a sylvari without a Dream.” She climbed out of the water. “Though the mystery around him seems to be vanishing.”

“Mysteries are meant to be solved, are they not?”

A slight smile grew across Ceara’s face. “Most of them, yes. But we should be cautious with some. They might not give us an answer we wish to find.” She spoke solemnly.

Liathlas knew what Ceara was talking about. She could tell by the tone of her voice, her smile betrayed her actual thoughts. They gathered their things and set off for the cave.

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

Sitting on a stone slab by herself, Orla glared at the other sylvari in the cave. Her thoughts drifted over the events of the past few days.

“I should have just killed that Amaranda.” She thought, her bottom lip twisted in disgust. “I wouldn’t be stuck here. Then I could have just easily made my way back to the arbor.” Her thoughts were cut short by the approach of a stealthed individual.

“If you’ve come to kill me, you’re going to have a tough time of it.” Her voice raised. A sylvari in Whispers garb appeared beside her.

“I’m not here to kill you, courtier.” It knelt down a few feet in front of her. “What drew you to nightmare?”

Orla smirked. “Heh, why do you ask, dreamer? Do you feel the pull?”

“I do not. But I sometimes wonder what causes some of our kindred to take such a dark path in life?”

“Dreamer, you are so naïve. The Pale Tree has blinded you to the truth, and you refuse to see it.”

“Is it because you want to be ‘free’? Free from the Pale Tree?”

“Free from the words of a long dead centaur. Why should we be bound by some laws meant to keep us in line? Nightmare has shown me the way out. Has given me a way out. I don’t follow the words of some stone tablet.”

“By joining a group led by Faolain and Cadryn? To be their pawns in their war against the Pale Mother?”

“They would lead us to freedom.”

“Would they?”

“Your days are ending, Dreamer. We will prevail. You will all see the truth.”

“I can see that you are lost.” He stood. “One day, I hope you find your way.” He disappeared from sight.

“Ugh, I need to get out of here. These dreamers are going to make me vomit.” Orla muttered to herself. She scanned around the dimly lit cavern.  “The washroom has a hole in the ceiling.” She thought to herself. Which I’m sure it’s guarded by those Whispers. But If I’m quick enough…I might be able to outpace them.” She quickly moved to the wash area. A yellow skinned sylvari was rinsing himself off in the spring water. He paused noticing her.

“Uh, nice evening for a wash.” He haphazardly spoke.

“Silence, dreamer.” She leapt in the spring after him.

“What are you doing!?” he yelped.

“Getting out of this cave and away from your ilk.” She quickly started climbing the rock face, the cold water flowing over her, giving her a chill. “Almost there.” She thought to herself. Reaching the opening in the ceiling, she peeked out. The light cool breeze in the evening air blew past her. Looking around, she saw no one, but she knew she was not alone.

“I know you’re here, Whispers. You won’t stop me.” She spoke aloud. Noticing movement among the rocks, she quickly darted away. An agent appeared in front of her, who she shoulder charged, causing both of them to tumble into the sand. Orla quickly got to her feet as she searched for the agent. Another appeared behind her, knocking her legs out from under her.

“Cease this senselessness now and return to the cave and we won’t be forced to harm you. The asuran agent said as he stood a few feet from her.

“I’m not staying here. You can’t keep me here.”

“Then you leave us no cho-“ Orla charged the asura, who disappeared as she ran by. She kept running. She quickly reached the edge of the cliff face overlooking Camp Resolve.

“You’re trapped. Return to the cave immediately.” She heard a voice behind her.

“Heh. Maybe another day, Whispers.” She leapt over the edge.

“Is she crazy!?” another agent gasped.

Running to the edge, they could see Orla making her way down the cliffwall.

“How does she…Do you think…”

“A former agent turned courtier?” Another asked watching as she leapt to a small pillar. She turned and waved at them before disappearing from sight.

[salvejoon]

No King Rules Forever | myg - M

I am the fire I am burning brighter Roaring like a storm And I am the one I've been waiting for Screaming like a siren Alive and burning brighter I am the fire

⇒ Summary: Escaping the Imperial City 4 years ago, leaving behind painful, bloody memories, your body scarred and your soul bruised, you went into hiding, swearing to never fall into the Emperor’s hands again but when his twin brother and the rightful heir to the Imperial Throne finds you, asking you to return to that God-forsaken city you had left behind, to re-open old wounds and place yourself directly in the Emperor’s gaze, to help him take the city and overthrow his brother, you find yourself at odds: do you stay hidden or do you step into the light and sink your fangs into the man who ruined you?

⇒ Or: Emperor Min needs to die cuz he’s a psycho and while you and Yoongi agree on that part, you don’t really agree on anything else. 

⇒ Pairing: Dragon Aspect!Yoongi x Snake Aspect!Reader 

⇒ Genre: Angst, action, a dash of crack, a tiny bit of fluff and smut.

⇒ Rating: 18+

⇒ Word count: 17k

⇒ Warnings: whoo boy, here we go, unedited cuz im a lazy fuck, mentions of torture and sexual assault (nothing too descriptive),  gory fighting as in there will be blood, poison, people melting, arrows in kneecaps, character death, cursing, smutty goodness, soft smut uwu, Yoongi is a soft boi and reader needs to be held, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (Wrap it up, my dudes), creampie.

Spying eyes watched carefully from the shadows of the tall trees around him, moving as the cloaked figure before him picked up herbs and put them in a basket. Careful not to stand in the direction of the wind, he moved silently, stealthily through the bushes, cautious not to make any noise and draw the attention from the clothed figure.

It could mean his end if noticed but he had his orders and had to make sure it was whom they believed it was. 

So far, he had nothing to go on. He could neither see shape or a face on the figure, a smart move for someone not wanting to be discovered. 

But a gust of wind blew harshly between the trees and the hooded figure was suddenly without a hood, revealing long hair that glinted in the sun and his eyes widened slightly as the figure turned to the side, showing him the feminine features of their face.

It was her. 

They’d finally found her.

But his ogling was soon interrupted as she whipped around and he felt her eyes on him, seeing him even under the cover of the shadows. Her eyes narrowed dangerously and he felt a shiver run down his spine.

He had to leave.

Now. 

Namjoon stared at the corpse at the ground, scratching his neck as he felt a sigh build up, “He was my best tracker…” He stated and let out a heavy sigh, “This is unexpected.”

“Y’know, as the smartest aspect, you really are dumb.” Jin commented and prodded the corpse’s knee with his shoe.

“How was I supposed to predict that poor Sijun would lose his life? Maybe he was ambushed-” 

“He wasn’t ambushed. Look at the wound. It’s too clean, too precise to have been made by a soldier or an assassin who suddenly jumped at him.”

“Yoongi…” Namjoon looked at his oldest friend as he bowed down and examined the many cuts across Sijun’s body, “Sijun was the best damn spy we had! There’s no way that she did this.”

Yoongi scoffed and rose, “She is capable. It’s most likely that Sijun wasn’t hiding well enough and she discovered him.” 

“She was the one who gave your brother the scar, right?” Jin asked as they walked out of the forest and into the clearing, the flow of the water strong in the creek as it had been raining.

“My brother didn’t see her coming either.” Yoongi stated as he looked around, spotting the basket near the water, tumbled over, no doubt having been left behind by the woman he was currently trying to find, “She’s around here. Let’s be a little bit more wiser than Sijun and not get killed.” 

Namjoon sighed heavily as his two friend began walking east, “I should have stayed home.” 

“Mistress.” Your handmaiden, Shari, looked confused as you scurried around the cave, “What has gotten into you?” 

You shook your head, “We have to leave.” 

“Why?” 

“I was seen today.” 

Shari’s eyes widened, “That’s not possible. We have covered every track and-” You grabbed her hand, clenching it and she took a few calming breaths. 

“It was only a matter of time before…” Shari looked desperately at you as you paled visibly, “Before he would find me, Shari.” 

“Are you sure it as one of his trackers?” Your handmaiden asked as you let go of her hand and resumed with packing a small leather bag with only the bare essentials.

“I smelled Dragon on him.” You stated, your hands beginning to shake as you were reminded of the taste and scent of it, “It’s him. Which is why we have to leave.” 

“But what if he finds us again, Mistress? What happens then?” 

“We will keep on moving. He will never find us.” 

“But what if he does?”

You looked down at your hands, her shaking voice affecting you and sighed heavily, “Then you will to save yourself. Now pack your things.” Your tone was final and Shari nodded solemnly as she headed over to her own bedding to pack her belongings. 

Shari was tired of running but she could not leave your side. Not when she owed her life to you. Ever since that fateful night in the palace, she’d sworn an oath to serve you and stay by your side until death. 

But she wanted to fight.

She wanted you to fight. 

She stole a glance at you over her shoulder, knowing that underneath your hard and cold exterior was a strong and fiery soul but that soul had endured so much pain and was now afraid. She knew that underneath your robes that hid your body so well, were scars that you thought so ugly and hideous that you still avoided your mirror image to this day. 

She wished that you had never set foot in that horrible palace. 

“If we set out by sunset, we can use the cover of the dark to-” You stopped abruptly when the air shifted and carried a scent with it that you knew all too well. 

You got to your feet quickly and handed Shari your belongings, “We’re out of time. Take this and run.” You said to her, ignoring how puzzled she looked, “Run as fast as you can and don’t stop.”

“W-What’s happening?”

You simply offered her a sad smile and cupped her cheek as it dawned on her what was about to happen, “N-No, I won’t leave your side!” 

“Shari, go. There’s no time.” She shook her head wildly and your heart lurched in your chest, “Go through the cave, take a left and follow the river once you exit the cave. Just like we’ve practiced.” 

“Y/N…”

“That’s an order, Shari.” 

Tears spilled over and rolled down her cheeks as she slowly nodded and you leaned over, kissing her cheek as you whispered, “Take care, child.” 

You watched as she bolted in the opposite direction, heading further into the cave. She would be safe, that was all that mattered. You took a deep breath, the scent of him nearing flooding your senses. You could almost taste him on the wind. 

You felt fear take a solid hold on you as you headed for the entrance to your hideout.

You had often imagined facing him again. 

You didn’t expect to walk away from this alive.

But you sure as hell would drag him down with you. 

Still, nothing could prepare you seeing the dark figure behind the waterfall, the water bending his body in a weird shape and acting as the only barrier between the two of you. It was terrifying and you fought hard to take another step. 

You were about to face the man that had ruined you.

It was now or never. 

Shari stood at the secret exit to the cave, a brief pause as she looked back into the darkness of what had been her home for a year. Her heart was breaking in her chest at the thought of you dying but you had given her an order. 

One that she intended to follow.

A gust of wind almost knocked her over and she felt the hairs on her arms raise in fear. 

Then she heard the sound that she had only heard once in her life, that horrifying night when you had fought the Emperor himself and given him the scar, the night the two of you had barely escaped the Imperial City alive. 

It was loud, the stone walls of the cave trembling, causing dust and debris to fall to the ground. She picked up her pace and ran as fast as she could towards the light at the end of the cave. 

Yoongi didn’t know what to expect as he had followed the trail that had led him to the waterfall. The Aspect of the Snake. Enigmatic, elegant, intelligent, wise, fearless, cunning, scheming and striking. 

Some of the wisest Emperors and Empresses had been an Aspect of the Snake.

He had never met an Aspect of the Snake.

Nothing could have prepared him for the real thing that was in front of him. It was as if the air itself dreaded what was about to happen as it died down, the forest around him grew quiet and only the sound of the waterfall filled the hilltop valley. 

Then the wind picked up, in the opposite direction, almost sucking him toward the waterfall itself and then he saw them. 

Glowing green eyes, looking directly at him and the ground trembled, the waterfall dispersed as the giant snake shot out of the cave with a roar. Yoongi had little to no choice but to change himself.

Namjoon and Jin were sent backwards from the sheer force of you and Yoongi’s forms colliding. As they scrambled back on their feet, they were almost blinded by the sun hitting the tangle of scales that was before them. Silver blended with black in a fierce battle. The ground shook beneath their feet with the giant Aspects battling. Yoongi’s growls and your loud hissing thrummed in their ears. 

“We have to stop them!” Namjoon yelled out, fearful for his friend as he saw you twirl around Yoongi’s lithe body, most likely intending to squeeze the light out of him.

“How?!” Jin yelled back, “If you haven’t noticed, we’re kind of in human form right now and could easily die if we-”

“You idiot! Change!” Namjoon yelled before he changed into his own Aspect form and Jin followed suit. 

Shari could only look on in horror as you battled the Emperor, his Dragon form even more terrifying than what she’s seen in paintings: the long slender body of his Dragonform, covered with blackened scales, his long claws digging into your pale imprenetable scales, trying to find purchase as you wrapped yourself around his body, his tail tangling with yours, his eyes glowing a bright golden color that some said was the representation of a setting sun.

His growls vibrated through his body and through hers which only gave away the magnitude of his size and power.

It seemed like you had the upper hand for a second but then she couldn’t but to cry out when he finally sank his claws into your body and you let out a wail of pain. Tears flowed freely when she saw blood stain the silver scales of your body. 

But her heart stopped when she saw the Aspect of the Ox and the Monkey join the fight. 

All of the Aspects towered above the trees and she had never felt more helpless in her life as she watched you not only battle one Aspect but three. 

As strong and mighty as you were, you were no match for three of them. She saw how you strained your long body, trying to maintain a strong hold on the Emperor and to sink your fangs into the Monkey, the acidic venom dripping from them and onto the earth beneath.

She could smell the burned soil and wood in the air.

The Monkey finally got it’s hands on you, getting ahold of your head and pulled you away from the Emperor and his mighty form fell to the ground. Your body twisted itself around the Monkey’s strong legs and you squeezed, causing it to let go of you as it toppled over and you quickly got out of it’s grasp and you slithered your way through the forest, mowing down trees on your way, trying to get some distance between you and your enemies.

But there was nowhere to go because you were trampled by the Monkey and you let out a loud hiss as you curled yourself around it’s body again, anger now flooding your veins as you squeezed the Aspect in your grasp.

The Monkey, battling your crippling tight grasp, tripped over it’s own feet and fell, rolling towards Shari. The handmaiden let out a panicked scream, getting the attention of the Ox who was busy trying to help the Emperor get back up. It’s eyes widened as it spotted the small human, two fighting Aspects getting closer and closer each second. 

It ran, leaving behind the Dragon and bypassed you and the Monkey, leaving dirt, dust and trees in it’s path.

Shari was cast in it’s large shadow. It huffed and she was knocked over by it. She covered her eyes to protect them from the dust, cowering in fear as the beast towered above her. It could easily crush her beneath it’s hoof. 

But it didn’t move. Not even when the two other Aspects crashed into it’s large body, did it move an inch. It simply huffed again and it sounded annoyed.

“Enough!” Came the booming and deep voice from the Ox, “We didn’t come here to fight you!” Then as to get the point across, the Ox changed back into it’s human form and from the dust, Jin appeared, “We’re here to talk.” 

Monkey, who was entangled in your body, stopped resisting, “It’s true.” He managed to wheeze out. Your eyes darted between Jin and the Monkey in your hold and you were at a loss of what to do. 

“I cannot trust you!” You finally spoke, your voice distorted to a deeper tone, “He has gotten into your minds and poisoned you.”

“He…” Came the voice of the Emperor, now hovering above you and the Monkey, “Is not me.” 

You lunged at him with snap of your jaws, “Liar!” 

The Dragon hummed deeply before landing onto the ground, a little away from where you currently held the Monkey pinned down and evaporated into a dust cloud. Your eyes narrowed when they saw the figure emerging. 

It was the same face that haunted you at night but yet, it was not. Instead of long, straight blonde hair like his brother had, his was jet-black and only went to his ears but the thing that caught your attention the most was his eyes. They were filled with emotion, nothing you could distinguish but there was emotion in the brown orbs.

Not the void you had so often stared into. 

And he lacked the parting gift you had given your once would-be husband: the scar across his right eye. 

The Monkey slowly felt you loosen your crushing hold on him and inhaled loudly when he felt like he could finally breathe. 

Seconds ticked by and Yoongi raised an eyebrow, “Are you going to change back so we can talk like civilized human beings?”

“Careful.” You hissed but removed yourself from the Monkey completely, allowing him to change back into human form and you decided to take a chance and change back as well, “That you do not anger me further.” 

You cautiously stepped backwards to your handmaiden and the young girl launched herself at you. 

“Mistress!” 

“It’s okay, Shari.” 

“Y-You’re hurt…” 

“It’ll heal soon. Are you hurt?” 

She shook her head, “No. The Ox saved me.” 

Jin smiled and inclined his head, “Jin is my name.” He introduced himself and continued, “I had to. My friend over there is quite clumsy and would have crushed you had I not intervened.” 

“Hey! How about a hand here?!” Namjoon called out annoyingly, “Gods have mercy, I think she’s crushed my ribs.” 

You scoffed, “You would be dead if I had.” 

Yoongi watched as Jin moved over to help Namjoon, cursing at him for being a clutz but you seemed to only have your eyes on him. It was clear that you were distrustful of them, making sure to keep your guard raised, even with your servant clinging to you, he didn’t doubt you were still able to hurt him.

You were also scared.

Of him.

He could smell it on you. 

Yoongi took a step towards you and you hissed in warning, “Calm down, girl.” He grunted and folded his arms. 

“Girl?!” You exclaimed loudly, filled with ire, “I will let that slide this once but you will tell me why you trespassed-”

“We didn’t actually trespass seeing as this mountain borders onto the Emerald forest and last time I checked, you weren’t the owner of these lands.” Yoongi interjected, looking bored.

“You have 10 seconds to tell me why you’re here.” You growled.

“Or what?” He challenged and the hilltop grew quiet as you glared at him, hands clenching. 

“If your friends hadn’t intervened, I would have killed you, Yoongi.” You spat his name and his eyes widened slightly, “Your brother found out what happens when you corner a snake and it almost cost him an eye. Don’t make the same mistake.” 

Yoongi. The twin brother of Emperor Min. The rightful heir to the throne. The first born son of the great Dragon Emperor. 

You wanted to laugh.

A lost cause. Banished from the Imperial City forever by his own brother. You had never met him, only heard hushed whispers of him from your time in the palace. The Emperor had never uttered a word of his brother either. 

But the things you had heard were more than enough. A coward was what he was, not even taking up arms against his brother when he had cut down their father in cold blood, no protesting when he had taken the throne as his own. 

You weren’t impressed to be in his presence but you would listen to what he had to say.

You stared at the three Aspects that sat on the opposite side of the campfire, the sun barely noticeable on the horizon, stars beginning to dot up the sky in all their formations. 

At this time, you and Shari would normally have been sitting alone, letting your full bellies settle after dinner and the young girl would entertain you with her hopes and dreams of a future where your lives were normal and you weren’t on the run.

Now you were joined by 3 other Aspects and the tension was palpable.

“After 10 years…” You dragged your eyes from the fire to Yoongi, “You decided to rebel against your brother?” 

You were met with silence.

“Pathetic.” 

Namjoon winced audibly and received a jab from Jin as Yoongi spoke, “I have my reasons. What is important is that it is happening.”

“And what, pray tell, are those reasons?” You asked coldly, standing up, dusting the dirt away from your dress and were again met with silence which didn’t surprise you, “Why should I help you, hm? Where were you when thousands of innocent people, children, were enslaved, killed, had their homes and livelihood destroyed?” Your tone changed as you continued, anger rising, “Where were you when he attacked the Northern Lands and slaughtered millions?” 

“Hey, there’s no need to be so-” Jin began but you cut him off quickly with hiss and your eyes flashing green. 

“Where were you when your people needed you? Hiding. Like a coward.” You finished. 

“Like you?” Yoongi asked and met your hardened gaze. 

You felt his words dig at your heart like a dagger, your lungs suddenly burning with how the air had been knocked out of them with two simple words, yet you refused to let it show, “You don’t know the hell I went through.” You spat, “I will not help you or your rebellion.” You announced, anger and hurt making your hands shake as you turned on your heel and headed for the cave. 

“W-Wait Y/N!” Namjoon called out and moved to get up but Yoongi stopped him with a hand. 

“Don’t bother. We shouldn’t have come.” He said, glaring at your retreating form. 

“Maybe I can talk to her and-” Namjoon looked at his friend with pleading eyes.

“We have wasted enough time on your ideas, Namjoon.” Yoongi snapped, finally letting the anger from your words show, “The woman doesn’t want to help. Fine. Leave her to rot here.” With that he rose and left the campsite, walking in the opposite direction, disappearing in the darkness.

Namjoon sighed loudly and Jin shook his head. 

What a mess.

“She wants to help you...” Came a shy, quiet voice and the two men looked at the young girl opposite of them, “But she’s scared.” 

“Yoongi is scared too. He just won’t admit or show it.” Jin explained with a nod, “I’m scared. Namjoon is scared.” 

“Me too.” Shari agreed and stood up, “You’re welcome to stay for the night. We have extra beddings in the cave, should you wish to sleep somewhere dry.” She bowed graciously, “Goodnight… And thank you for saving me, Jin.” 

He smiled at her as she turned and left them alone at the fire. 

“So… Jin, I think it’s your turn to talk to him.” 

“Mistress.” 

You were quick to wipe away the wetness on your cheeks as you heard Shari approach you and put a gentle hand on your shoulder. She didn’t say anything as she knelt down behind you and put her head against your back. 

You felt a comforting warmth spread in your chest at her silent support and you reached up with your left hand, putting it on top of hers. 

This girl had been your only source of companionship since you had escaped the palace. She had been there, next to you with her childish charms and naive hopes when you had been all gloom and doom. She had pulled you out of your night terrors, learned how to deal with them when all she should worry about was playing with other children and making friends.

She had to grow up too quickly but somehow she still had hope to keep her going forward. 

You wished you still had hope. 

“Shari…” Came your trembling voice and she simply squeezed your shoulder, understanding your unspoken words. 

She was the only thing that kept you going these past 4 years.

Yoongi’s words had cut you deep and while you hated to admit it, he was right. You were a coward. 

You were no different that he was. 

You had a choice: help him overthrow his brother or stay here, in hiding... Being a coward.

You could return to a normal life. You could give Shari the life she deserved. 

“You’re going to help them, aren’t you?” She asked, hopeful, and you nodded curtly. Even though you couldn’t see it, you knew she was smiling. 

Perhaps you could allow yourself to have some hope, after all.

Namjoon stood awkwardly shifting on his feet outside the cave, nervously anticipating your exit. 

After the talk he had with Yoongi which mostly consisted of his friend telling him to fuck off, shut up and take his big words somewhere else. It wasn’t the first time Namjoon had to give a little speech about what was right to Yoongi, even though he was the oldest and should be the wisest. 

Yoongi had listened to him and had seen reason.

Now he just had to convince you to do it too.

You appeared just as he blinked, like a lightning strike from a clear sky and he yelped, causing you to raise an eyebrow as he tumbled backwards and fell onto the ground. 

“Y-You startled me.”

You looked down at him with a stoic impression, “Good. I haven’t lost my touch then.” You extended a hand to help him back on his feet and he took it. Dusting himself off, he took in your attire: a burgundy robe, tied around your waist multiple times with a black piece of cloth, black pants showing underneath it, stuffed into dark boots. You shifted and he caught glimpse of a black bodice. 

Then he saw the dual kopis’ at your hip and the bag on your back.

“Are you here to try and convince me to join your little rebellion once again?” 

Namjoon snapped out of it and focused his eyes on your face where he saw a tiny smirk, “You knew?” 

You hummed and stepped out of the cave, “I had an inkling.” You said as you walked out, “But you pacing back and forth anxiously gave it away.” You stated, glancing at the tall man and his now rosy cheeks. 

“Also you talk rather loudly.” 

“S-Sorry.” 

Shari came running towards the two of you, adjusting the straps of her back onto her shoulder, “All done!” She exclaimed as she came up to you, smiling up at you. 

“You sure?” You asked, looking down at her. 

She nodded definitively, “Yes, Mistress.”

“Good. Because we won’t be coming back.” 

Namjoon stumbled after you as you continued walking, “Does that mean you’ll help us?” 

You kept walking, “No, I wish to see if my weapons can skin a Dragon.” You paused for effect, “Alive.” 

Shari chuckled beside you as Namjoon halted in his steps, looking pale and fearful. You rolled your eyes and stopped, “I am joking, Namjoon.” 

He released a breath, “Thank the Gods.” He mumbled. 

“For now.” You shrugged and continued walking down the hill.

You could already smell them as you reached the base of the hill where Jin and Yoongi awaited you. Jin smiled as he spotted you and Shari while Yoongi didn’t even spare you a glance. 

You were about to tell him how rude it was not to acknowledge a Lady when Jin opened his mouth, “Good morning, ladies. Looking battle ready and fierce as ever.” He complimented as you and Shari came up to him, “How are you this morning, little one?” He asked when she looked up at him, her big brown orbs twinkling with excitement.

“Excited!” Shari clapped her hands. 

“I expected to see you return alone.” Yoongi stated, glancing at Namjoon.

You could still give him an earful but refrained and simply resumed walking, heading into the dense forest, Shari grabbing Jin’s hand to drag him along.  

While Jin and Shari had fun playing games on the road, obviously bonding, you and Yoongi had yet to utter one word to each other. That didn’t stop the Dragon from talking about you, as if you weren’t there. He took your lack of acknowledgement as a challenge. You annoyed him. He didn’t know why but he wanted your fieryeyes  on him as you lashed out at him hence his comments got more provocative as the hours went by.

You were twitching with each comment coming from him, wanting nothing more than to teach him a lesson or ten. 

Instead, you tried to make small talk with Jin, asking him about his family. He had a wife, three sons and a daughter and he talked with such warmth and love about his family, that it made the annoyance caused by Yoongi fade into the back of your mind.

It made you a little sad too. While his tone was warm and happy, there was an underlying yearning to return to them. 

“I miss them so much.” He admitted, the smile vanishing from his face and sadness washed over his features, “I’ve been gone for too long already.” 

“How long?” You asked.

“A year, give or take. My wife sends me letters though.” He smiled but it didn’t have the same happiness as his usual ones, “The boys are getting wilder and stronger and are wreaking havoc in the house.” 

“What about your daughter?” Shari asked, “How old is she?” 

Jin looked down at his side, “She’s a little younger than you and she is amazing. Strong, beautiful, funny, smart… Takes after her father, you know.” He winked at Shari and ruffled her hair, “You remind me of her actually.” 

You smiled at the interaction. The young girl sorely lacked a father figure in her life. You were all that she had but even you couldn’t give her everything a child needed, no matter how hard you tried. Certainly not a life where she feared for her life everyday was fit for a child. 

“We’re nearing the camp.” Yoongi caused the moment to fade with his statement. 

You didn’t have to wait long until the air filled with the scents of sweat, horses, leather and smog.

“How many men?” You asked Yoongi as he walked up beside you, finally looking at him. 

“2000.” He said curtly. 

“2000? That’s not nearly enough to attack the Imperial city. Your brother has tens-of-thousands of soldiers.” You stated, eyes widening as Yoongi merely shrugged and bypassed you, picking up his pace as the camp got closer. 

Truly, he couldn’t be serious? 

Shari clung to you as you walked further and further into the large camp, soldiers all around you barely paying you any attention, the few that did curtly inclined their heads as a formal greeting. 

“I don’t like it here.” The young girl murmured and you hugged her tighter to you, knowing her fear of soldiers and wished you could whisk her away.

“I’ll protect you, Shari. Don’t worry.” 

“I know.” 

Yoongi led the way through the camp and when you came upon a larger tent, he entered it and you followed suit with Jin and Namjoon behind you. 

In the tent was two men, each dressed in their own battle attire. It was the sigils on their back that indicated their status and just how important they were.

“You’ve gathered other Aspects?” You asked, eyes slightly widening when their heads turned to look at you. 

“They’ve returned!” 

You couldn’t distinguish whose voice it was, mind still reeling from the fact that Yoongi had gotten so many Aspects to join the rebellion, especially considering that some of them present was allies with the Emperor.

“Is this who I think it is?” A voice snapped you out of it and you took a step back when the owner of the voice strolled over to you with strong steps, inhaling deeply, “It is!” 

You looked up, a very young but muscular man, with wide brown eyes stared at you with amazement and a grin that reached his ears

“Careful, Jungkook.” Yoongi warned him, “She has a bad habit of attacking first and asking questions later.” 

Your eyes narrowed as Jungkook shook his head, “She looks nice though!” 

Could they stop talking about you as if you weren’t there? 

Then Jungkook leaned in close, too close for comfort and you felt the beginnings of a hiss in your throat when he sniffed you. Loudly. 

“And she smells so good!” 

Aspect of the Dog, you guessed. 

“A true beauty.” Another voice drawled and you turned your head to see a slightly older man make his way to you, his eyes sharp and focused, his presence sending a shiver down your back. 

He was intimidating.

“Jackson…” Yoongi warned cooly, watching as his comrade drank in the sight of you. 

Jackson, as was his name, bowed graciously in front of you, “My name is Jackson and I am the Aspect of the Tiger, my fair lady.” He took your free hand and kissed it, making Shari giggle and he winked at her, “You honor us with your presence.” 

Yoongi snorted loudly and you glared at him briefly before smiling at Jackson, “Thank you. Finally someone with manners.” 

This caused Yoongi to glare at you. 

“Ah, you make me blush, my lady.”

“Please, call me Y/N.” 

“First name basis already. I like it.” 

“Are you done making the rest of us gag?” Yoongi huffed. 

“Jealousy is an ugly thing, Yoongi.” 

“I am not-” 

“Alright, everyone, settle down and let’s get back to what we’re actually here for.” Namjoon’s voiced boomed over the others, successfully silencing them. He walked over to the table and placed his hands on it, “Scout reports?” 

“None yet, Namjoon. They have yet to return and-” Jungkook was cut off as the curtain to the tent was whipped aside and in stepped another man but this one, you knew. 

Your eyes widened as you took in the huffing Jimin, his cheeks red from exertion but they were still those soft cheeks you remember cupping in your hands, the same plush lips that you remember kissing you on the cheek, the same brown eyes that had once pleadingly begged you to let him go and now they landed on you and he stopped speaking. You hadn’t even noticed that he had begun talking. 

“Y-Y/N?” His voice crumbled steadily as you let go of Shari and walked over to him, your heart leaping in your chest as he quickly crossed the distance and drew you into his arms, hugging you tightly.

“Gods, I’ve missed you.” He mumbled before burying his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder, nuzzling it with his nose. 

You felt teary-eyed as he drew you back and he beamed when he saw your face, “I missed you too.” You managed to get past the lump in your throat. 

The sweet reunion was interrupted as Namjoon cleared his throat and Jimin removed himself from your arms and walked over to the table. 

“I have a few questions for you, Jimin, but we’ll talk later. Now, what have our scouts found out?” The Aspect of the Monkey asked, his eyes flicking between you and Jimin. 

The sun was setting over the Imperial City, bathing the building in a golden hue and coupled with it’s brightly colored tiles and buildings, it would make for a breathtaking painting. 

The golden towers of the Imperial Palace glinted in the sun as they stood high above the rest of the city, like a beacon of light guiding those who needed safety from the dark. 

But all this simply covered up the grim truth of the city and it’s inhabitants. The streets were littered with sick people, the poor sitting on the corners, begging for a coin just so they could buy a loaf of bread, starving orphans that didn’t even have the strength to stand, let alone play. The streets were no longer clean or traversable as they were covered with garbage. 

What had once been a bustling city, a hub for all traders alike, a place where teaching and schooling was important, a city that felt safe with the guards patrolling the streets, was now the opposite. It was a city full of hopelessness, death and decay. 

And the one who ruled over the city and it’s people cared not about it. 

Emperor Min sat on his golden throne, staring at his sword when his spymaster entered the throne room, his eyes locked onto the Emperor, “My Lord.” 

“Ah, spymaster Lee.” Min glanced at the man, “I hope you bring good news.” 

“I-I do, my Lord. The Southern borderlands raids have been successful… Um, the new recruits have proven to be quite effective.” 

“That is good news indeed, Lee.” 

“I do have… bad news, my Lord.” 

Min sighed and reclined back in his throne, waving his hand, “Yes, out with it.” 

“M-my scouts say that the Tiger Aspect...” Lee trailed off, fear interlaced with his voice, “That he has joined your brother’s rebellion.” 

The booming laughter that followed made the spymaster take a step back as the Emperor rose from the throne, “Good, finally I have an excuse to kill him.” 

“There’s more, my Lord.”

Min looked at the trembling man and raised a brow, “What?” 

“Reports h-has come in and s-some say that they’ve seen her.” 

“WHAT?!” Min roared and Lee fell to his knees with a whimper, “That bitch is still alive?!” He growled and swiped at a decorated vase, sending it flying across the room, “Not only did my brother, now her as well! Why doesn’t people know that when killed, you stay dead!” 

Lee cowered before his Emperor as his shadow fell over him, “It’s fine. It’ll be fine.” Min sighed and placed a hand on his spymaster’s head, “You will send assassins after her.” 

“Y-Yes, my Lord!” 

“But if they fail, my dear spymaster, then you,” Min paused, grabbing Lee’s chin roughly, forcing him to look up, “You will pay for their mistakes with your life.” 

“This is your tent.” Jin drew back the curtain and you walked inside, Shari in tow, “I know it’s a little small but it will be a couple of days before we leave.” 

“To the Imperial City?” Shari asked, looking up at him.

“Yes.” 

“Will I be fighting too?” 

Jin gave her a small smile as he knelt down and ruffled her hair, “No. You will be staying where it’s safe.”

“But who will be protecting me?” 

“Some of the soldiers.” 

“Then I’d rather be out there fighting with you! I refuse to be near-”

“Shari.” You short call of her name made her mouth close quickly, “Why don’t you find Namjoon and ask for some water?” 

Hesitantly, your handmaiden nodded and left the tent, leaving you and Jin alone. When she was out of earshot, you looked at Jin, “Shari doesn’t feel safe around soldiers.” 

“I gathered as much… Why?” Jin asked and leaned against the pole that held the tent up. 

You sighed quietly and turned your back to him, “Before becoming my handmaiden, she had a family but they were poor and like so many other poor people, she had to steal food.” You began untying your belt holding your kopis’, “One day, she had snuck into the palace barracks after having followed a tradewagon of food. She was spotted and didn’t get away.” Jin nodded as you continued, “She was put in front of the Emperor as she had trespassed into the Royal Grounds and attempted to steal from the Emperor himself.” 

Jin shifted on his legs, beginning to feel unsettled, “What happened then?” 

“The Emperor told the guards to ‘punish her however they saw fit’.” You told him and he felt a shiver run down his back, “I begged him to call it off, to punish me instead and let her go. I knew what those guards intended to do, Jin, I could smell it on them. The desire.” You felt sick to the stomach as you recalled it, “She had her clothes torn off, in the middle of the throne room and all the Emperor was doing, was laughing as she cried for help.” 

“Please don’t tell me they-” He began, eyes tearing up.

“No. I stopped it before it got that far.” You cut him off and placed your belt on the table and you heard him murmur ‘how’, “I killed the one who was holding her down. Sliced his throat.” 

Jin closed his eyes and shook his head, “And the others?” 

“I killed them that same night.” 

“And you?” 

You stilled briefly, thinking it went unnoticed but Jin saw, “What did he do to you, Y/N?” 

You ignored the question and continued, “Two nights later, her family’s house was burned down. With her family inside it.” 

“Gods…” Jin exhaled, his heart breaking for the young girl, “So you took her in?” You nodded. 

“She has no else but me, Jin. Shari has been there for me when I had no one. I owe her much.” You turned to face him, “Which is why I am warning you, should any harm come to her while under your soldier’s protection-”

“I promise that she will stay safe.” He quickly cut you off, “Please. Shari will be safe when we head into battle.” You stared at him for a moment, as if trying to gauge if he was truthful but then you nodded and walked past him, just in time as Shari entered the tent. 

“Namjoon said he will have someone bring water to us, Mistress.” Shari told you and you smiled at her.

“Thank you, Shari.”

Jin pushed off from the pole and inclined his head, “I’ll be going then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As he left your tent, he felt deeply troubled by the fact that you had avoided his question concerning you. Just how much had you endured at the hands of Min? 

He didn’t want to think about it. 

“Did she say anything?” Yoongi’s voice startled him out of his thoughts and Jin whirled around to see his friend approach him, “I saw her kid leave the tent.” 

“Are you stalking me?” Jin asked, crossing his arms as he raised a brow, “Or are you stalking her?” 

Yoongi snorted and brushed past him, settling against a rack of weapons, “As if.” 

“I’ve known you for over a decade, Yoongi.” Jin eyed his friend’s relaxed posture, “And I think you’re intrigued by her.” As his words settled, gone was the relaxed posture and his friend tumbled against the rack, almost causing it to fall over which resulted in Jin laughing out loud. 

“I-I am not! She’s annoying, has a stick up her ass-”

“I think you want to be said stick.” 

“Jin, I am warning you…” Yoongi trailed off, knowing by the grin Jin had, that his cheeks were tinted pink. Still, the older man held up his hands in surrender and Yoongi scoffed. 

“But to answer your question, she told me of how she and Shari ended up together.” And so, Jin proceeded to retell the story to Yoongi.

Yoongi couldn’t sleep that night, thoughts running rampant in his mind, the story Jin had told him and the fact that you had avoided Jin’s question, troubled him. He knew his brother was a sick bastard. 

But his mind ran wild with imaginations of what his brother had done to you and he felt sickened by it. It bothered him that it was all he could worry about when he was about to start a war in less than two days. 

But he had also found a new kind of respect for you. To hear that you had willingly offered yourself for punishment to save a simple girl was not matching the image that he had created of you in his mind. 

It actually proved it wrong. 

And in a way, despite how horrifying that story was, he was glad that Jin had told him. 

He wondered if there was more to you than just glares, snark comments and aloofness. 

Why are people yelling, screaming and cheering at the asscrack of dawn? Was Yoongi’s first thought as he exited his tent, grumpy and still wrecked with sleep, “What the fuck is all this commotion?!” He yelled and some soldiers jogging by, stopped.

“There’s a fight happening, my Lord.” 

“A fight? Who the fuck wants to fight each other before breakfast?” 

The two soldiers glanced at each other and one of them spoke, “Jimin and the Lady and… It’s midday, my Lord.” 

Yoongi rubbed one eye with hand, “Midday-” He looked up and squinted at the sun, “It’s midday… Shit.” 

“Was there anything else you needed, my Lord?” 

He waved his hand, “No and don’t call me that, I’m no Lord.” The soldiers saluted and ran off and Yoongi turned on his heel, heading back into his tent when he froze, “Jimin and Y/N? Fighting?” 

He ran, following the stream of soldiers and he saw the large group of people, forming an arena around the two fighters. Grunting, he pushed his way through the crowd and reached the centre. 

You grunted with effort as you pushed Jimin off you, “Gotta be faster than that, rabbit.” You goaded and took a defensive stan and Jimin attacked you again with a swift kick aimed at your stomach but you intercepted it with one hand and wrapped your other hand around his thigh and pulled. 

Yoongi watched as you hurdled Jimin down onto the ground with a cry, creating a wave of dust at impact and he shielded his eyes. 

“So far, it looks like she’s winning this round.” He heard Jin’s voice and looked around, trying to spot him and he saw him stand next to Namjoon and Jackson a few feet away. 

“Why the fuck are they fighting?” Yoongi asked when he approached them, causing all three men to whip around to face him. 

“Ah, overslept again, I see. Bad habit.” Namjoon stated with a shrug. 

“They’re sparring, my dear friend.” Jin clarified and drew Yoongi in with an arm around his shoulder, “Come! Join us!” 

“In what?” 

“Betting on who is going to win this last round. So far the score is 1-1 so this is the last round.” Jin said with a grin, “I’d bet on Y/N. She’s been throwing Jimin around this round like he’s wet paper.” 

“Jimin clearly has the upperhand and is simply dragging out the time!” Jungkook joined them, “Everyone knows that he’s the best damn close-combat fighter in these lands.” 

Namjoon looked at the youngest Aspect just as Jimin was crawling out of the hole you had put him in, “I wouldn’t quite say that, Jungkook. You see, Y/N and Jimin trained together back when they were younger.” 

Yoongi looked at him, “How do you know?” 

“He told me. I was curious as of how they knew each other.” He explained with a bored expression. 

“Yes, and apparently they were lovers at one point too.” Jackson grumbled angrily, “But I am going to make her my woman! No rabbit will stand in my way.” 

Yoongi didn’t know if he wanted to hit Jackson or not, “You can’t force her to be your anything if she doesn’t want to.” 

Jackson shifted his eyes from the fight to Yoongi, “I will not force her. I will make her fall for me with my charms. I’m sure you could learn a thing or two, young Dragon.” 

Yoongi opened his mouth but Jin was quick to place his hand over it, turning his head to you and Jimin, “Alright, that’s enough kids.” 

Jimin wiped the sweat off his brow and chuckled, “I see you haven’t gotten completely rusty on your old days, Y/N.” 

“Did you just call me old, Jimin?” You asked as you began to circle each other, “We both know I was always the better fighter.” 

“Not true. I’ve beaten you plenty of times.” 

“That was years ago.” 

You set off and Jimin jumped backwards, turning his body midair, avoiding your charge and you put one foot to the ground, whirling around, just in time to block a punch from him. 

“We can keep going like this all day, Y/N.” He noted as you huffed, straining against his fist in your hand, “Or I can at least.” 

“I am not tired, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

You headbutted him, hard, causing him to groan and stumble back but you gave him no breathing room as you charged at him again, wrapping your arms around his midsection at you collided with his body. 

Jimin grabbed your shoulders as he placed his feet solidly on the ground, halting you and then he aimed a well-placed kneecap right into your stomach, sending you flying upwards into the air. You maneuvered yourself to land safely on both feet, a distance away from him. 

The crowd began cheering but it quickly died down when your eyes began to glow green and the crowd moved outwards, creating a greater distance between you and them. 

“Oh, so you want to fight dirty now?” Jimin yelled but stomped the ground with a foot, causing it to tremble slightly, his own eyes flashing pink, “Let’s go then.”

“Now it’s getting interesting.” Jin clapped his hands and smiled excitedly.

“You enjoy violence way to much, my friend.” Namjoon noted and shook his head.

At that very second, the sparring contest jumped up to a whole new level, ditching any slow movements, doubts or hesitations to leave room for two living blurs chaining blows and blocks at astonishing speed. 

After a long moment spent out of time, you could hardly tell if it'd been one minute or one hour, you decided that you had enjoyed yourselves enough and impulsively went on the offensive. Jimin, still focused on the playful yet deadly dancing, noticed too late that the game part was over... He received a powerful blow in the ribs and growled with anger.

"Good one!” He groaned, frowning at her at the second he counterattacked.

You dodged him and resumed into a regular exchange of blocked blows, only this time much more violent... and aiming at hurting. You had struck without restraint, which meant you'd put enough strength in your fist to break his bones. Good thing he was an Aspect, because had he been human, he would have had a broken rib or three. 

He kept playing cat and mouse with you until the right opportunity: he seized your right arm as he blocked it and pulled you toward him. Thrown off balance, you reacted by sending your knee right between Jimin’s legs.

Jimin froze on place as a wave of immense pain spread from his groin, "Really?" He managed to get out.

But he didn't have time to waste as you used his temporary loss of control to grab him and send him flying across the arena. People were quick to move out of the way and he crashed heavily against a couple of tents that fell or broke upon impact. Jimin clenched his teeth to keep his pain silent and shook his head to clear his thoughts just in time to see you rush toward him to try and finish the match before he was back in the game. Jimin dodged your leg that created a small hole in the ground and got up on his feet and leaped toward you, taking advantage of your precarious balance to grip your waist with both his arms and pin you on the ground. 

You fell, entangled, and struggled on the dirt to take the upper hand. You finally got it, straddled him and threw a powerful punch toward his jaw. But your friend deflected it with his free arm and countered with a strong head butt.

Unfortunately for him, you were… pretty hard-headed.

“You can do better, Jimin.”

Then Jimin lifted his right leg in your back, placed it between your chests and gripped your neck in the bend of his knee before pushing you backwards. You saw the danger come; if you let the man block your head between his strong legs, you could very well lose the match.

You resisted the movement, all the effort concentrated in your abdominal muscles, then used your hands and arms to free yourself while sending your foot to Jimin’s jaw for good measure. You heard him growl as you rolled on the side and stood up. Jimin jumped to his feet and rubbed his jaw soothingly before joking, “You’re really trying to damage my handsome face.”

“It’ll heal.”

And you attacked, even faster, even stronger, to the crowd’s general amazement, trying more and more daring and risky moves to find a way past the each other's defenses. You both sometimes took the upper hand, but the more time passed, the more you gained the advantage over him, hurting his weak spots with the precision of a striking cobra. Jimin scored some good hits too, like the full-powered kick he'd managed to land on your shoulder and which had sent you staggering, the loud crack indicating that he had dislocated it. 

You simply but it back in place with a small hiss.

Nevertheless, Jimin started to feel the match was escaping him. While he began to tire under your constant assaults, your energy seemed endless. You really were a formidable opponent.

You exchanged a new flurry of blows until he missed a block and took an uppercut fully charged in the throat, followed by another in his chest. The first cut his breathing for a short instant, the next caused a loud crack to echo through the camp and he immediately knew – through the sound and the intolerable pain that flooded his veins – that you actually managed break a pair of his ribs. He staggered and fell on his knees, coughing and grunting in pain.

He saw you hesitate; you’d heard the terrible noise but he could tell you really wanted to win this match. He knew why it was so important to you, that the soldiers and the other Aspects needed to believe in your strength, to assert yourself in a powerful position.

In the end, it seemed your fear to have badly wounded him superseded your determination and you moved closer to check he was okay. Your softness were really your biggest weakness.

Jimin sprung like a tiger on it’s prey. He had you.

But you had anticipated the deception this time – you knew him too well – and you leaped backwards, moving out of his reach. You both landed on your feet and observed each other. 

Even with a few broken ribs, your friend would have no trouble trading blows until he saw an opportunity to immobilize you, so you had to be careful.

You could feel the audience holding their breath around you, waiting like statues for something to happen.

It seemed like you had to use the element of surprise.

Jimin was taking his sweet time to approach, knowing that rushing would only give you the chance to dodge and escape. You observed him intently, seemingly trying to figure him out. He could almost hear the wheels of your brain turning faster.

Then suddenly, he stood within striking distance, he focused and attacked, fist first so he could follow up with a kick to block your escape. You evaded the blow at the last second, but not in the way he'd anticipated.

You jumped. High.

Then you fell. On him. Legs wide open.

Jimin was so surprised he missed the only half-a-second long window that could have gotten him out of there, and suddenly his nose and mouth collided with your lower stomach while your legs closed around his neck. Your entire body suddenly weighed on his shoulders, and you used your momentum to accentuate the movement and make him topple backwards.

Almost slowly, Jimin took three steps back and, unable to keep his balance, collapsed on the ground. His back slammed against the ground, the impact only dampened by the presence of your legs crossed against his nape. You then bent forward to evade your victim's leg swings and kicks, and a large smirk appeared on your face.

“You give up?” You asked, still smirking. 

“Yes, I tap out.” He rolled his eyes and felt you dislodge yourself from him. The crowd began cheering when you helped him back on your feet, your eyes having returned to their natural color. 

“I am going to marry that woman. Gods, I am so hard right now.” Jackson mumbled, staring at you as you talked to Jimin. 

“Gross, Jackson. Really? Ugh.” Jin scowled. 

Yoongi ignored all of them but he had to agree with Jackson. He too, had never been so hard as he was at that moment.

After the fight, Jimin had invited you to a walk. You had your right hand placed on his forearm as he walked beside you, through the noisy camp, soldiers and horses running around you. The tension in the camp had heightened since you arrived, clearly anticipated for the battle. 

You didn’t want to think about that now. 

“How have you been all these years?” You asked him, looking up at him. He was just as handsome as you remembered him, even with dirt and sweat spattered across his face. 

“I’ve been good. Busy. But good.” He said with a smile and glanced down at you, “And you?” 

You slowly looked away from him and ahead, “I’ve been… Surviving.” Jimin’s smile faded, “Yeah. Surviving.” 

“Y/N… Why didn’t you come to me?” He placed his other hand upon the one that rested on his forearm, “I could have helped you.” 

“No, you couldn’t. I had just helped you escape from him and I would only have put you in danger had I sought you out. I didn’t want to endanger anyone else.” You shook your head, “I feared that he might have found you and killed you after you disappeared.” 

“I have a friend, Taehyung and he took me in, helped me heal and get back on my feet but since I had no lands left, I sort of remained with him until Yoongi arrived on his doorstep, asking us to be a part of his rebellion.” Jimin explained. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him, Jimin.” Your head hung low as he slowed down, “I tried but he wouldn’t listen.” You closed your eyes, “You lost everything.” Your voice trembled slightly as your heart constricted painfully in your chest.

“Hey.” He put a finger under your chin to make you look at him, “Not everything. I have you, don’t I?” You nodded, blinking, and Jimin was quick to wipe away the single tear that fell, “I have Tae, Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, even Jackson. I got a wife and a kid on the way.” 

“You what?” Your eyes widened, “Why didn’t you tell me?” You hit his arm and he laughed, “You tell me this now?!” 

“Sorry, I didn’t tell you sooner.” He smiled and tugged you gently along as he began walking, “What about you, Y/N? Any bachelors?” 

You snorted, loudly, “I haven’t really been lucky in that aspect, Jimin, and after the last one, it has sort of been the last thing on my mind.” 

“Really? Hm, we should change that. What about Jackson?” 

“As handsome as he might be, he’s a little too aggressive for my tastes.” 

“Jungkook?” 

“Too young.” 

“My friend, Taehyung is still unmarried but I don’t think the two of you will get along very well.”

“Why?”

“He’s the Goat Aspect.” 

You chuckled softly, “You’re right about that one.” 

“Hm. What about Yoongi?” 

You almost tripped over your own feet at the mention of his name, “The brother of the man who ruined my life? What a good idea, Jimin.” 

Jimin frowned and stopped walking, “Yoongi is not like his brother, Y/N. He is a good man, albeit a little…”

“Cold? Rude? Pig-headed?” 

“Yeah, that but he’s kind, compassionate and strong-willed. He actually reminds me of you.” 

You threw your head back and laughed, “Please. He and I are not alike. He could have stopped his brother from killing their father but he didn’t. Instead, he let it happen and got banished from the palace. He could have stopped Min from doing all of the terrible things he’s done but no, he didn’t even try. It’s a miracle he’s mustered up the balls to finally do something.” 

Jimin looked thoughtful for a moment before he spoke, “Yoongi actually tried to kill his brother that day he killed their father.” Your eyes widened and all humour left your face, “But Min… Killed him.” 

“B-But how? He’s alive-”

“Magic.” He simply stated.

You reeled back, “Magic like that is forbidden and for good reason…” 

“A life for a life.” 

“Who…?” 

“His mother.” Jimin sighed and it felt like all the air had been punched out of your lungs, “After Min killed Yoongi, he threw him into the river. Jin found him a couple of days later, floating in the river. He pulled him from the river and brought him into his house. At first he contemplated of burning him but… He was contacted by the Empress.” 

“How? She remained in the palace-”

“She was a witch.” Your eyes widened at the revelation, “Yeah. There weren’t many magic users left back then but she was one of the few.” Jimin continued, “She made Jin take an oath to keep Yoongi safe until the time was right.” Jimin paused and looked at you, “So don’t say that Yoongi didn’t try.”

“But why now?”

“He was scared. Like you. He still is. So… Cut him slack.”

“We haven’t really… talked that much. Mostly fought, actually.” You snickered but it was hollow, “I may have treated him with contempt. Because he looks like him…” 

“And you know that’s wrong.”

“Yes.” 

“You know, maybe you should reach out to him, try to make him understand you a little better. Try to be friends. History tells us that the Snake and Dragon were always good friends.” 

“That’s putting the bar a little high, Jimin. I’ll just begin with being a little nicer to him.” 

“That’s my girl.”

Yoongi was, mildly speaking, having an existential crisis. Okay, maybe not that extreme but he was certainly having a crisis. 

About you.

Okay, so maybe Jin was right. He was intrigued by you. He could even admit that he was attracted to you, as was proven by his earlier predicament. He had never seen such elegance and strength before, certainly not in a fight. Sure, you and Jimin were both excellent fighters but you… You had truly stolen his focus.

He still found you annoying and uptight but perhaps that would change with time as he got to know you.

He wanted to know more about you. 

“Fancy meeting you here.” Your voice startled him and he visibly flinched, “Did I startle you? Good.” You snickered.

He expected you to walk away but instead, you approached him and sat down next to him in the soft grass.

“You are really annoying.” Yoongi said, sparing you a glance. You had changed your outfit. You were no longer clad in a bodytight suit that accentuated your curves, breast or ass. 

Frankly spoken, he was glad that you had changed. He didn’t want a raging boner again. 

Now you were dressed in a simple, long dress and your hair cascaded down your shoulders. You looked relaxed. 

“So are you.” You retorted and shot him a glare, “Did you see the fight earlier?”

“I did.”

“I didn’t see you.” 

“Oh, so you were looking for me?” Yoongi smirked and turned his head to look at you, taking much pleasure in how you sputtered and shook your head wildly.

“Absolutely not.”

“Hm.” 

A moment of silence passed and you felt uneasy under his sharp eyes, shifting in the grass. 

“Are you scared of me, Y/N?” 

You froze at the question and opened your mouth to answer but decided to close it again. Yoongi took your silence as his answer and moved to get up when your hand grabbed his wrist. 

“I am not scared of you… As per say.” You began, looking at him with pleading eyes, asking him silently to stay, “But you look exactly like him and… sometimes my mind thinks you are him.” 

“I am not him.” Yoongi said but sat back down next to you.

“I know that! But that still doesn’t change the fact that you look exactly like the man that....” You trailed off, not wanting to venture out where you couldn’t go back. 

“The man that what?” He pushed and he saw you pale, “Y/N, what did my brother do to you?” 

You whispered something and at first he didn’t hear it but he heard it the second time.

“He ruined me.” You murmured weakly and gone was the strong, pig-headed woman he had only seen up till now. You were shaking, pale and afraid.

“He… ruined you?” 

You rubbed your arms, suddenly feeling cold to the bones, “Your brother was once my betrothed but you already know that, I’m sure. My family thought that it would be a good match and an honor to have their daughter marry the Emperor and thus I was sent to the palace 3 months before the wedding would take place, to prepare me for the grandiose honor of becoming Empress.” You let out a short, emotionless laugh, “Empress. I was supposed to be nothing more but a trophy. He treated me as such as well. A thing... A plaything that he could burn, flog, cut and beat until I was drowning in a sea of my own blood. To torture endlessly until he grew bored of it. But none of that broke me… It wasn’t until he forced himself upon me that my spirit broke.” 

Your eyes teared up but you continued, “It happened once and it was after I had betrayed him by helping Jimin escape from the palace. He thought giving me 12 lashes wasn’t enough. I had to be taught a lesson.” 

Yoongi closed his eyes, wishing and regretting he asked, “And that was when I began to fear him.” 

“Y/N…” 

“Your brother not only scarred my body to the point where I can’t even stand to look at it, he also-”

“Y/N, stop!” Yoongi raised his voice, “That’s enough.” His voice trembled, wrought with emotion, “Stop. Please.” 

You turned your head to look at him as he took your hand in his, his thumb gliding over your palm in an effort to comfort you. It didn’t comfort you and when you saw the emotions swirling in his eyes; the sorrow, the sympathy, you broke down. 

Yoongi didn’t know what to do when you leaned into his side, crying softly, your hand clenching his strongly as if you needed him to keep you anchored, so your emotions didn’t get the better of you. 

He hushed you gently as you wept and he stayed with you until the last of your tears had dried up. 

You sat in comfortable silence, your head placed on his shoulder and you breathed in deeply, feeling slightly light-headed. 

“I was wrong about you and for that, I apologize.” He said softly, clenching your hand within his. 

You simply hummed in response and closed your eyes, silently wishing the moment to last a little bit longer.

Jin noticed a change between you and Yoongi. It all began when he saw you smiling a tiny smile in Yoongi’s direction that morning and the Dragon’s own lips tugged upwards. Then his friend had walked over to you and placed a hand on your shoulder and Jin expected you to send Yoongi flying, but you didn’t. Instead you let it linger there as the two of you talked. 

Then Yoongi leaned in closer and whispered something in your ear that made you flustered and now you actually hit him. 

Just not with full force. Which Jin had expected. No, you simply swiped your arm leisurely at his shoulder while Yoongi was smiling at you. 

What was this? 

The Ox kept a close eye on you throughout the day as it passed by. The two of you would walk, side by side, through the camp while Yoongi talked to you about his journey that led him here. He told you of how he had gathered the other Aspects and of how the rest would meet them at the city. Jin also noticed how your hand lingered on Yoongi’s arm, as you listened intently to what he was saying. 

“Is it just me or are those two actually being… Friendly?” Jackson asked, eyes locked on you and Yoongi walking amongst the tents, “That’s quite a change over the span of a few days…” 

“Are you scared he might steal her from you?” Jungkook smiled at Jackson, “I think he might.” That earned him a hard hit on the shoulder, “Ow.” 

“Shut up, mutt. I refuse to believe that Y/N would fall for someone like him.” 

“And what if she does? What then?” Jin levelled a hard stare at Jackson, “I actually think they make quite the pair.” 

“His brother-”

“His brother is his own person, Jackson. You know this. Now Y/N does too. Let them be.”

“You know, you actually surprise me, Yoongi.” 

“How so?” 

“I didn’t expect you to be this smart. I actually kind of expected you to be quite… Dumb.” 

“You surprise me as well.” 

“Do tell.” 

“You’re even more annoying once one get to know you.” 

You slapped his arm but there was a smile on your lips, “It’s a part of my charm, thank you very much.” 

“You are actually, quite charming.” His compliment made your cheeks heat up. He’s been doing that a lot lately. Complimenting you, that is. 

And it made butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

You didn’t know what to make of it. 

“I have a question, Y/N.” 

You looked at him with a tilt of your head, “Ask away.” 

“What will you do after?” Yoongi glanced at you, “If we win.” 

You hardly doubted that it would be a hard-earned victory. You had no doubt that people would die. 

But somewhere, something told you that you would win. 

“I… Don’t know. I mean, Shari and I have been on the run for so long, that I can’t imagine us doing anything else but…” You paused and looked off, into the distance, watching the setting sun, “I could see myself in a house, with Shari, tending to our garden.”

“No husband?” He asked.

You chewed your lip, “Maybe. If the right one comes along.” You felt him shift beside you, “What about you? What are your plans once you become Emperor?”

“I don’t plan to become Emperor.” 

Your head whipped towards him, eyes wide, “W-What? Surely you must be jesting, Yoongi. Who else is there but you?” 

“I can make a whole list of people who would be a better Emperor than I.” He declared and shrugged, “I don’t want to be Emperor. I never wanted that.” 

“There are many that would disagree with you. Myself, included.” You stated, placing a hand on top of his, “But that is up to you. No one can or will force you.” 

Yoongi smiled slowly, “Thank you.” 

“What do you want then?” 

He hummed and leaned back, resting against the tree that towered over you, “I want many things. To travel the world. Learn new languages. Meet new people. I want to settle down, own a farm or something like that.” 

“You really want it all?” 

“I want it all.” He parroted you, his brown eyes shifting from you to the sun, “Nothing less.” 

“Then you shall have it all, Yoongi.”

Later that evening, a couple of hours after sunset, Shari pounced you the minute you entered your tent and you yelped, “Ah! Hello.” 

“Miffed u, istres.” She mumbled into your cloak and you chuckled when she drew her head back and looked up at you, “You’ve been gone for almost the whole day.” She pouted as you patted her head.

“Namjoon hasn’t been entertaining you enough?” You asked as she let go of you, shaking your head at her small ‘no’, “You know it’s not very polite to be ungrateful, Shari. Namjoon offered to teach you to read and write all by himself.”

“I know, Mistress but it’s more fun when it’s you.” 

You huffed out a laugh and took off your cloak, putting it on your bed, “I’ll teach you once this war is over with, I promise.” 

“Yay!” Shari clapped her hands and you smiled at her excitement but then it died down and she looked solemn, “We’re leaving tomorrow…” She murmured and you walked over to her and knelt down, “I-I’m nervous.” 

“I know. Me too.” 

“What if you die?” 

You cupped her cheek, “I won’t.”

“Promise?”

You kissed her cheek, “Promise.” and Shari graced you with a small smile, “Now, how about a bath? You stink.” 

“That was rude, Mistress. You could use a bath yourself.” She scowled at you but her eyes lit up at the mention of a bath, “But I forgot my soap.” 

“You can borrow mine.” You winked at her as she cheered, “It’ll be just a minute.” 

“Ugh.” 

“You can ahead and head towards the stream. Don’t leave the camp though. Stay within the light of the torches.” You told her and she was almost halfway out the entrance when you called to her, “And take my cloak. It’s a little cold outside.”

“What about you then?”

You snickered, “I’m going to be fine.”

Shari grabbed your cloak and ran outside as she struggled to put it on. She breathed in deeply, the scent of your vanilla soap and lotus perfume lingering on the cloak and hugged it tightly to her body. She pulled the hood over her head and headed towards the edge of the camp. 

Sharp eyes landed on the hooded figure and grinned as he recognized the cloak. He dipped the arrow head in the bottle of acid and notched it, taking aim.

“This is almost too easy.”

You exited your tent, a cloth bag in your hand containing your soaps as you headed towards the edge of camp, looking forward to a nice bath and some time alone with Shari. 

But then you heard someone yell and saw soldiers run by you. You picked up your pace but that was when you smelled it. 

Blood. 

You dropped the bag onto the ground and bolted, not giving a single care to the gathered people as you shoved them away, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you prayed to the Gods that what you feared was not-

You stopped. Stopped breathing. Stopped moving. Stopped thinking. 

There, on the ground, lay a small body, wearing your cloak, in a pool of her own blood. You saw the arrow in her back, smelled the acid that had burned a hole into her chest. 

You screamed. Loudly. You fell to your knees next to Shari’s body and turned her around, weeping loudly as you saw her lifeless eyes stare up at you, “No… No… Please… No.” 

You pulled her to your chest, hugging her tightly, “Shari, wake up.” You whispered brokenly, shaking her gently but the only thing that moved was a single trail of blood from her mouth.

You cupped the back of her head, pulling it to you and buried your face in her hair as the hood fell from her head and wept. 

Jin and Yoongi pushed their way through the crowd but halted the second they saw you cradling Shari’s body, weeping loudly, whimpering, begging her to wake up. 

Jin’s eyes teared up and he took a deep breath, his eyelids closing as a stray tear ran down his cheek. 

Yoongi slowly walked over to you and knelt down, his knees sinking into blood-soaked dirt and he slowly put a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t move as you kept looking at Shari’s face, “Please don’t leave me.” You sobbed. 

“Y/N.” He said but you shook your head. 

Yoongi looked down at the young girl, taking in her pained expression that was etched onto her face, her last moment. He took a deep breath before glancing at Jin over his shoulder, “Find the one who did this and bring them to me.” 

Jin nodded and left. 

Dawn came and you stood atop a hill, holding a torch and looked up, seeing the funeral pyre for the first time. You slowly walked over to it and looked down at the body that lay atop of it. 

You heard Jin behind you, beginning his parting words. You tuned them out and took one last longing look at Shari’s face. She looked peaceful, with her eyes closed, her face clean, her hair done neatly in a braid. You could hear her bubbling laughter on the wind as it blew and you let your eyes close as you put the torch to the pyre and let it drop to the ground, stepping away. 

Yoongi walked up to you, standing beside you, his head bowed. He could hear your shuddering breaths and he let his hand brush yours gently, offering his support in silence. 

You took his hand interlaced your fingers as you silently let tears roll down your cheeks, watching the pyre carry the ashes of her to somewhere far away and you prayed, silently, that wherever it was, Shari had everything that she dreamed of.

Jungkook held the curtain to the tent aside and you walked in, accompanied by Yoongi, Jin, Namjoon, Jimin and Jackson. 

“I chased him down after… what happened.” The young man said softly, You said nothing but simply walked over to the bound man and looked down at him. He looked up and his eyes widened when he saw you stand in front of him. 

“He’s yours to do with as you please.” Yoongi stated. 

You nodded and they took this as the cue to leave the tent. You sat down graciously in front of the man and removed the cloth from his mouth. 

“How is this possible? I killed you.” His voice was dry and trembling as you calmly stared at him. 

“You failed.” You explained, your voice cold as ice.

“I-I…” 

“And now you will die.” 

“You don’t scare me, snake,” He spat the word but there was still a sliver of fear in his tone, “The Emperor would have killed me anyway for failing him.” 

You nodded slowly and pulled out a small vial, filled with a green substance, “Yes. He would probably beheaded you or have you hanged.” You removed the lid from the bottle and raised it up between your faces, “What I intend to do is much worse.” Your eyes flashed green as they met his, “Do you know what my poison does to a human body? It’s much like the concoction you used but much more potent. It will melt your insides, organ by organ, muscles by muscle, bone by bone until there is nothing of you.” You scoffed, “To think that he believed it would be strong enough to kill me is pathetic.” 

The man opened his mouth, “Long live the Emper-” You grabbed his jaw roughly, forcing his mouth wide open with ease and he whimpered pathetically.  

“Your Emperor won’t live for long. Neither will you.” You said slowly and moved the tiny bottle to his mouth, “Now drink up.”

You emptied the vial into his mouth and made sure that he swallowed it all. 

You heard the rustling of the curtain to your tent, feet stepping onto the carpet, making the dirt beneath it crunch. You didn’t move when he placed a small plate of gravy in front of you, on the table you sat by. 

“You need to eat.” Yoongi said softly, “You need the strength.” 

“I’m not hungry.” 

He sighed, “Y/N.” But you didn’t say another word, simply staring at the wall of the tent. Then he saw your hands move in your lap and he spotted one of Shari’s blouses in your hands. 

You flinched when you felt him put a hand on top of yours, his face entering your vision as he gently turned your head with a finger under your chin. You looked at him, taking in how the light from the torch in the middle of the tent casted his soft, feline like features in a golden light. You saw how his eyes portrayed emotions so easily and just how easy it was to read them: his own heart filled with sorrow and regret.

Yoongi saw your lower lip beginning to tremble as tears gathered in your eyes, “She’s gone.” You began, voice a mere whisper, “I promised her that she would stay safe and I failed. I promised to protect her and I failed.” The more you spoke, the more tears flowed freely, “And it’s my fault. It’s my fault, Yoongi. I let her go. I made her put on my cloak… It’s my fault.” 

“No, hey, no.” He cupped your face, kneeling down beside you, thumbs gently wiping away your tears, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.” 

“I should have known that he would-”

“No. None of that. It is not your fault.” 

“You don’t understand… Shari was the only thing that I had left.” You inhaled, soft noises escaping from you as you broke down, “I have nothing.” 

“You have me, Y/N.” Yoongi pulled you to him and you desperately swung your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder, “You have me.” He repeated as you wailed loudly, “You have me.” He felt your hands grip onto his shirt tightly, your wails muffled by the cloth. 

To have him there, next to you, his presence and warm body, coupled with his words, it all washed over you like a warm blanket, shielding you from the hurt, the pain, the ache. It all seemed to lessen with each second.

You sniffled and drew back. Your arms shifted, moving your hands to his chest and you crossed the small space between you, placing a kiss to his lips. 

Yoongi’s eyes widened but he didn’t move, seemingly frozen in your hold. Your lips, wet and tasting like salt, glided from his lips to his jaw, to his temple, to his ear and you whispered, “Make me forget. Please.” 

He exhaled a shaky breath, “Are you sure?” 

You nodded. 

He pushed you back gently, his eyes searching yours for any uncertainty and when he found none, he pulled you to him, his lips collided with yours and a spark lit in his abdomen. 

You whimpered softly into the kiss, feeling his tongue grace your lower lip, begging, pleading for entrance and when you granted it, you tasted him and a whole slew of colors exploded behind your lids. He pulled you up with him, his hands finding purchase on your hips as he guided you backwards, mouths still connected, to the bed and he broke the kiss to lay you down gently on the the soft mattress and he crawled over you.

You reached out for him, hands desperately trying to remove the shirt from his body and he let pull it over his head. He hissed when your hands glided up his stomach, over his dusky nipples and dipped his head, capturing your lips once more but this time with more ferocity. 

Your skin tingled with excitement as Yoongi began to untie your robe but you froze when you felt his cool hands on your stomach. 

He pulled away from your lips, “What’s wrong?” 

You looked down and he followed your gaze, eyes widening slightly when he saw the many scars across your stomach and chest. 

His heart twisted painfully when you began to close your robe, “No. Don’t.” 

“I shouldn’t have asked you. I’m sorry.” You turned your head away as you couldn’t bare to meet his eyes, “It’s hideous.”

“No, it’s not.” He leaned forward and nuzzled the valley between your breasts, “You’re beautiful.” He kissed the skin there and ventured further down, planting soft butterfly kisses on each scar , pushing your hands away and let your robe fall open. He placed a kiss above your navel and gazed up at you. The intensity in his eyes and how they darkened with desire made your breath hitch.

You sat up and let the robe fall from your shoulders, laying back down you watched as he untied the ribbon that held your trousers up, slowly pulling them down, placing a kiss to each expanse of skin that was being revealed to him. 

“Beautiful.” He murmured against your thigh, moving back so he could remove your trousers and he threw them to the ground and returned to you, pushing your legs apart. 

Your hands shot down to hide yourself from his gaze, embarrassed at how he eyed your center with such hunger but he growled and slapped them away. 

He placed himself between your fleshy thighs, taking in how your folds already glistened in the torch light, “I want to taste you.” He said, his voice deep and rough and it sent a shiver through you, “Can I?” 

You nodded slowly and almost choked on a breath when you felt a finger run down your center, avoiding the aching bud, “Y-Yoongi…”

Yoongi didn’t waste more time as he dove in, his tongue circling around your clit and you let out a groan. He then slid one finger into your weeping cunt, moaning loudly when your hips bucked against his face and when he added another, you let out a mewl. 

“Please.” You begged. Yoongi continued to lick your clit and pushing his fingers in and out of you, feeling you grow more wet under his onslaught. 

Then he removed his mouth from your clit and his fingers from your cunt and you almost cried out when you felt his tongue push inside you, lapping up your juices, “Ah!” 

Yoongi gazed up at you and almost came in his pants then and there; to see your face, contorted in pleasure, pleasure that he was giving you, your hands fisting your robe in desperation and the sounds that erupted from your mouth as he continued to eat you out. 

You felt something building in your abdomen. It felt hot, tightening and you feared it would snap. He felt it too when your walls clenched around his tongue and he placed a thumb on your clit, rubbing in circles. 

“Hngh - I’m going to cum.” You warned him, voice raspy and throat dry.

“Then cum.” He commanded. 

He continued to lap at your center as your back arched off the bed, mouth open in a silent scream. He drinks every drop that gushed out of you and only removed himself when you whimpered pathetically. 

Yoongi crawled up your body, placing a kisses on his way and you put your hands around his neck when he kissed your jaw. You could feel his hard cock against your stomach, straining against the fabric of his pants and you sighed blissfully. 

He kissed you then, mouth open, tongue invading yours, letting out a grunt when he felt your hands touch his cock over his pants. 

“I - Hmp.” He silenced you quickly with his mouth but you pushed against his chest with your hand, “I want to-”

“Later. I need to be inside you.” He grumbled and removed himself from you and you had never seen a man shed his pants so fast in your life, eyes widening as you saw the size of him but you quickly found yourself caged under him again, his mouth on yours, arms resting beside your head. You felt the tip prod your entrance and whimpered. 

“Yoongi, hurry up.” You huffed when his lips dislodged from yours and he grinned cheekily as one of his hands went down to grab his cock and line it up with your entrance. Your mouth dropped open when you felt him breach you, slowly, your walls clamping down on him tightly. 

“Gods...” He hissed as he pushed deeper into you until his hips were flush against yours and he stilled, letting you get accustomed to him. 

You put your legs around his narrow hips, hands venturing up his arms to his shoulders, “Move.” 

He pulled out and thrust back in and all the air left your lungs. He set a slow and languid pace, head bending down to nibble at your collarbones while you gasped with each thrust, your cunt weeping onto the mattress. The blazing fire began to build in your lower stomach again but you needed more. 

“Faster.” You huffed out, licking your dry lips. Yoongi looked at you and you saw uncertainty flash in his eyes, “I can take it.” 

“As you wish.” He nodded and leaned back on his heels, removing your legs around him, moaning loudly as he looked down to where you were joined as he drew back, his cock glistening with your arousal, “Fuck.” He gritted out as he slammed back in. 

You keened as his pace increased, your back arching, legs trembling as he held them spread for him, his cock leaving no crevice untouched as he fucked you. 

You let out a cry when he shifted his angle and his cock hit a spot that made you see stars, “Don’t stop!” 

He chuckled but that quickly changed into a groan when your walls clamped down around him, “Are you close, my sweet snake?” 

You nodded wildly, your hands trying to find something to hold onto as you felt like floating. He put one of your legs on his shoulder and held onto it, nails digging deep into your thigh and fucked you harder. His balls tightened and he knew he didn’t have long but he needed you to give him one last orgasm. 

So he moved his other hand and started playing with your clit and you let out a wail as you came, the blazing fire finally erupting and setting all of your nerves on fire. Yoongi cursed as your walls clamped down on him like a vice and he thrust a couple of times before he let out a groan, spilling his cum inside you, filling you up. 

He fell forward, your chests rubbing against it each as you both breathed heavily, coming down from your highs. 

He kissed you and rolled to the side, his softening cock leaving your cunt and you let out a tiny whimper. 

“Thank you.” You whispered and turned over to face him, offering a tired but satisfied smile. He smiled back and let you scoot closer, resting your head on his chest. 

“Stay.” You murmured. 

Yoongi kissed your forehead, “Gladly.” 

You stared at the closed gates of the Imperial City, seeing the soldiers running on the high walls, preparing for a siege as ballistas and archers lined up along the walls. 

You felt anticipation for the upcoming battle. It wasn’t going to be easy. 

“What about the people?” You asked as Jin appeared next to you, “Thousands of innocents will die.” 

Jin hummed, “I have men in the city that are taking the civilians underground, to the catacombs.” 

“You really have thought of everything.” You noted and Jin grinned. 

“Actually, that was Namjoon. Gotta use his big brain for something.” He turned and walked back to the tent where the rest of the Aspects stood along with some new additions: Taehyung, the Goat Aspect, Hoseok, the Horse Aspect, Anduin, the Pig Aspect, Wrynn, the Sheep Aspect and Dina, the Rooster Aspect. 

“The trebuchets are ready.” Dina said as it was her that had brought the majority of the weapons, “As is the ram.” 

“Good.” Jackson nodded, “Then I’d say let’s get started.” 

It was chaos. The ram had been a failure and countless of soldiers had already lost their lives and the gate was still standing as was the walls. You were growing frustrated and knew that something had to be done.

Something drastic.

“Jin!” You called out across the battlefield, eyes quickly finding the man amidst the soldiers, “We need to open that gate!” 

“If you haven’t noticed, the ram was a failure!” He yelled back. 

“I know but how about you use your thick skull and big brain for once and bash it open?!” 

Jin’s eyes widened and he mulled over the idea, “Yeah… That could work but what about the soldiers?! I don’t want to tramble them.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Everyone! Draw back! Fall back from the walls!” Your command echoed with the other Aspects as they commanded their soldiers and Jin nodded and ran towards the gate whereas others ran away from it. 

You watched as he got closer and closer, dodging arrows with relative ease but when they began firing the ballistas at him, you grew fearful. He had to change. 

Then he vanished in a dust cloud and you heard a loud, booming bellow and saw his Aspect form charge right into the gates, bursting them open. 

“Everyone! Charge!” You heard the command and bolted towards the open gates, watching as Jin trampled down one of the walls, creating more entrance points for the soldiers. 

The General of the Emperor’s army was quickly remobilizing his soldiers and they charged towards you, storming out of the gate in waves. 

You drew your kopis’ and vaulted over debris, diving down with a cry, sinking your weapons into an enemy soldier, his blood spattering on your face. 

Then you heard a horn sound behind you and you looked back to see the cavalry beginning to charge with Hoseok at the front, his spear glinting in the sun. 

You smirked and yanked your kopis’ out of the body, letting it fall to the ground and proceeded to run further into the city. 

Gritting your teeth, you fought your way through the enemy soldiers, never losing sight of where you had to go. 

The Imperial Palace.

“My Lord, they have breached the city.” 

“I can see that, you idiot!” 

Emperor Min was pacing back and forth, perching high above the city, in the throne room, where he could see the battle unfold below. 

He couldn’t lose the city. He wouldn’t lose to his brother. 

He had the advantage of a bigger army but Yoongi had the other Aspects at his side and Min roared in frustration, “Damn it!” 

But then he saw you run up the many stairs leading to the palace and he grinned, “It seems like she wants to greet me in person.” 

Yoongi had lost sight of you on the battlefield and were growing anxious. He cut down another soldier with his sword and continued further into the city, Jin beside him. 

“Where is she?!” 

“I don’t know. She bolted right after entering the city!” Jin answered, grunting as he parried an incoming blow from a soldier. 

“Damn it, woman!”

You reached the courtyard, breathing heavily and looked around. The place was vacant of soldiers. 

What was Min planning?

“Min!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, “Come out, you coward!” 

You heard laughter but couldn’t pinpoint where, so you whirled around yourself. 

“Did you miss me that much, Y/N? That you had to see me before my brother comes to kill me?” 

“I will be the one to kill you, you bastard!” You growled, your only answer was more laughter, “I intend to finish what I began those years ago!” 

“Ah, yes. The parting gift you so lovingly bestowed upon me.” The hairs on your back stood as you felt his presence behind you and you whirled around to see him step out from the shadows of the tall pillars, “As you can see,” He paused when your eyes met, “It’s healed quite nicely but has left such an ugly scar.” 

“That’s nothing compared to what you did to me.” You tensed up as he stepped towards you slowly, his sword still sheathed. 

“Aww, come on now. You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy some of it. For example that one night we made love.” 

You hissed, your eyes flashing green as you felt nothing but anger, “Am I digging up some bad memories, my love? I’m sorry. How is your little handmaiden? I heard that she sadly lost her life. You have my condolences.” Min bowed mockingly and you had to restrain yourself from charging at him.

“Fuck you!” 

“Is that all you can come up with? Where is that sharp tongue of yours?” Min began to pace around you, closing in on you slowly, “You know, I am a little disappointed in you, Y/N. To think that you joined my pathetic brother’s little rebellion… I had thought better of you.” 

You didn’t answer and he continued, “Cat got your tongue? I saw the mighty Tiger down there. Are you warming his bed at night? He is tall and handsome, after all.” 

You knew what he was trying to do: to goat you into attacking him. Too bad for him, you already knew his tricks. 

“Answer when spoken to, dove.” 

“No, actually…” You paused and relaxed your stance, “I’m fucking your brother.” 

This got a reaction out of the Emperor as he stopped, his eyes turned hard and he scowled, so you continued, “What? Didn’t want to share with your brother?” You mocked.

“Shut up.” 

“You know, I’ve always wondered what you lacked as a child to have grown into the sadistic asshole you are today but all I could come up with was that you are simply jealous of Yoongi.” You saw how he tensed up, his hand touching the hilt of his sword, “I can’t imagine how it must feel to always have been the second son…”

“I said shut up.” 

“I pity you, Min.” 

“SHUT UP!” He roared as he changed into Dragon form and lunged at you, a move that you had seen coming. It seemed like he had forgotten how cunning you were. You dodged his attack and ran into a nearby building.

Yoongi heard the roar his brother let out and he looked towards the palace where he saw his brother’s golden Dragon form and he could only think of one person who could have provoked his brother to change directly into that.

You. 

He left the battle and ran towards the stairs leading to the courtyard. 

You ran through the collapsing building as Min tore it asunder. You leapt out a window and fell to the ground but a huff. 

You barely had time to get up on your legs when Min bashed his tail at you, creating a huge crater. 

“You whore!” He roared loudly as you ran across the courtyard, “I am going to kill you!” 

“You failed once and you will fail again, Min!” You yelled as you headed towards another building but Min had already seen where you were headed, so he moved his massive tail skywards and slammed it into the building, sending you flying backwards across the courtyard. 

You groaned, head reeling from the hard landing when you felt something heavy land on top of you, pinning you down and you knew it was his claw. Min opened his mouth wide and you saw how he took a deep breath. 

You had to change. Now. 

Min let out a roar as he blasted you with fire, burning everything to ash but when he felt something snake around his body, he knew he’d failed. 

Your silver scales glinted in the sun as you rose above him, the lower part of your body wrapping itself around his hind legs, your hood unfolding itself to cast a shadow over the Dragon in your hold and you hissed loudly, fangs out and ready.

Min didn’t waste a second to try and untangle you from him but you simply clenched around him and he tried to take move, his tail moving wildly behind him, destroying everything in it’s path. He roared when you lunged at his head, only to miss it as he moved and breathed fire on you again. 

You could easily withstand his flames for a short period of time but he continued and youfelt the burning flames begin to dance across your scales, bringing pain with it, you hissed loudly before bending your body and sink your fangs into his right leg. Min reeled from the bite but before you could release poison into his system, he took off into the air, dragging you with him upwards. 

He could fly. 

You could not.

You removed your fangs from him and began to untangle yourself from his body but he used his claws to grab ahold of you. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He growled, “I just want to show you the view from up here.” He sped up and you looked down, the ground getting further and further away from you. 

You felt panic overcome you as he only soared higher and higher and then he let you go. 

You plummeted towards the earth, bracing yourself for impact as you could do little else when you saw a black Dragon fly towards you.

“Change back!” Yoongi yelled out and you did so, vanishing in a puff of smoke and you were back to human form. Yoongi opened up his claw and felt relief washing over him as you landed in his palm. 

“Thank you.” You said as he closed his claws around you to keep you from falling. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” He yelled as he made a u-turn, his long black body quickly heading back towards the ground, “You could have been killed!” 

“We don’t have time to argue, Yoongi, as your brother is coming back! You yelled, seeing Min flying fast towards Yoongi and you. 

Yoongi had barely time to turn his head when his brother collided with him, sending you flying out of his grasp and you could only look on as Min sank his claws into Yoongi’s body, forcing a pained whine from him as they hurtled towards the ground. 

You fell through the roof of the palace and landed in the throne room and you whirled your head around to see the two dragons crash into the courtyard, a tangle of black and gold. They rolled across the courtyard and down the stairs and you jumped down onto the next roof, following them. 

“I’ll kill you again and this time I’ll make sure you stay dead!” Min roared as he lunged at Yoongi’s neck, drawing blood. Yoongi twisted his body and sank both of his front claws into his brother’s body.

“Not if I kill you first!” Yoongi bellowed as he bit into Min’s leg. 

You ran as fast as you could, seeing as the dragons finally came to a stop halfway down the stairs. You watched as they each took a lunge at one another, pained roars and whines coming from both of them. 

At this point, they would kill each other. You changed into your Snake form again and slithered your way down the stairs. Min saw you out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to breath fire at you but Yoongi snapped his jaws shut around his snout, forcing his mouth shut. 

You sped up and opened your mouth wide, fangs emerging from your gums and you launched yourself at Min, sinking your fangs into his neck. Yoongi struggled to maintain his hold on his brother when he felt you wrap yourself around Min’s body as you continued to pump your venom into him but he didn’t dare letting go. 

It took minutes before your venom began to work but soon enough Min began to go slack and Yoongi removed himself from his brother watching as you wrapped your body tighter around his brother’s body, venom starting to dribble from the puncture wounds and onto the ground. 

He watched his brother struggle weakly in your grasp but you responded by tightening ever further and Yoongi were sure that if Min didn’t die by your poison, then he would die from your body crushing his. 

Then he looked into the panicked eyes of his brother and he felt a small pang of pain at seeing his brother suffer like this. Yoongi wished it could have been different, he truly did but his brother deserved everything he got and more. 

Finally, Min sagged in your hold, his Dragon form going completely slack and you slowly untangled yourself from him and let go of his neck. 

Yoongi stared at the lifeless form of his brother before he slowly began to disperse into ash. 

“I hope you find redemption, brother.” He said as the ashes carried his brother away, “I truly do.”

You stood in the throne room, bruised, sweaty and dirty but you didn’t care. As you heard the people and soldiers cheering in the city below, you were filled with relief.

It was done. 

Yoongi appeared next to you with a sombre expression and you turned your head towards him, “Why the dark expression?” 

“I don’t know… I guess I feel a little sad about my brother.” 

You nodded in understanding. As vile as Min had been, he had still been Yoongi’s brother, “I know.” 

“Yeah.” Yoongi said nothing else but he felt a smile tug on his lips when he felt your hand graze his and he grabbed it, “So...Princess.” 

You snorted, loudly, the sound taken Yoongi aback and he stared at you with wide eyes, “Princess? Don’t call me that.” 

“What was that sound? Did you make that?” 

“What?” You raised a brow at his dumbfounded expression, “Oh fuck off. Aren’t a lady allowed to snort?” 

“That was a very manly sound, Y/N.” 

You shrugged and squeezed his hand, “So what are your plans now, Dragon Lord?” 

“Well, I was hoping that you would perhaps join me in celebrating the victory.” 

“Hm.” 

“Privately, of course.” 

Jin groaned as he stretched his back, leaning against the pitchfork in his hand and he looked over the field of corn and sank his head, “Why is there so much left?” 

Then he heard horses and he looked to the road, a smile creeping up on him as he spotted two familiar figures. 

“Honey! They’re here!” He called out to his wife and let the pitchfork fall to the ground as he walked to the gate of his house, waiting to greet his friends. 

“Why are you mad?! I didn’t do anything!” He heard Yoongi yell and he didn’t have to wait long to hear your response, “And that is exactly my problem! I needed help to get up on the horse and you just stood there and did nothing!” 

“You usually don’t have a problem getting up on a horse, woman!” 

“I am pregnant, you bastard. With your child!” 

Jin simply smiled as your horses came to a halt outside of his gate. He was snickering when Yoongi came up to him, annoyed, asking him what was so funny and the Ox simply patted his friend on the back before offering you a hand to get down from your horse. 

[the-river-person]

Worldbuilding Tangent Part 1

This is gonna be a post where I get sucked down a rabbit hole about the worldbuilding of the Underground. There are a some things I think are worth noticing. I’ve seen a couple fics and comics where people acknowledge the size of the Underground. But I don’t think we’ve really stopped to take a good look at it much, and I want to cause its fun. Please note that these are my own observations from the game and that It’s possible I might interpret what I see in a different way than others. Let’s start with just the Ruins and the city of Home. (plus some mentions of New Home. But its relevant.) We know that the Monsters were sealed away Underground and trekked across the massive cavern to where the Ruins are now, and they made a city called “Home”. The book in Toriel’s home says “Cavern’s” indicating that its a single cavern with the possessive apostrophe on the end instead of multiple caverns. A cavern is defined as a category of cave that is particularly vast and has formed naturally in soluble rock and grows speleothems (Cave formations like flowstone, stalagmites, stalactites, columns, straws, or drapery). I thought this meant there was only one single vast cavern until I came upon “The Glossary of Geology” which said that the word ‘cavern’ could either be used to talk about one single vast cave or a system of caves, chambers, and connected tunnels. This sounds more like what I see in the game, because we know that there seem to be large cave areas separated from one another and connected by tunnels and smaller caves. So we have a series of connected large caves and tunnels. The first of which we see is the Ruins. The ruins are supposed to be a small part of the ancient city of Home, where the monsters lived for a while after being sealed Underground. Why did they eventually decided to move back to the main entrance where they were first sealed? We don’t know for sure, but based on the timing, it might have been due to Chara. We know Chara fell down the same hole as Frisk does at the start of the game, because the flashback cutscene shows this and because Toriel returned Chara’s body there and buried it. Yet we also know that Asriel and Chara left the Underground through the only real entrance and exit available to them without a ridiculous amount of climbing... The one we find in New Home. One possibility is that Asgore built the city of New Home AFTER they died, but this doesn’t work because Asgore tells us that Toriel became disgusted with his actions and “She left this place, never to be seen again.” Since we know the place Toriel ended up was the closed off Ruins, then New Home would have needed to be built sometime before the death of the royal children, but after Chara’s initial fall. (there is the possibility that it was built before that. I have doubts that Asgore and Toriel would be letting little Asriel wander alone through a set of abandoned ruins, but you could make an argument for it depending on various possible circumstances). Anyway, you the player get to see the ruins as you follow Toriel and solve puzzles. And while they’re somewhat sizable, they don’t seem much like an ancient city, more like a couple of old streets, a park, or something like that. Perhaps a set of gardens since it appears to be set outside (will come back to this in a moment). Then we come to an area where we see the actual city of Home, inaccessible to the player. We’re on a balcony, suggesting that the city is at a lower elevation, and that the ruins we’ve been traveling through are much higher up, possibly part of a castle. The city itself is quite big, containing towers and domes and buildings of all kinds, stretching into the distance. Looking at the Ruins themselves, we know that they’re open air (as much as you can be underground). There are piles of leaves everywhere (despite there only being a single tree, suggesting that there are leaf bearing plants growing above or on the walls outside of the player’s line of sight. And beds of flowers grow in various places. Even the occasional pool, stream, or fountain makes its appearance in this area along with all of the puzzles (this stream could be the very source of the River we see later in the game with the River Person in his boat and Ice Wolf sending blocks of ice down to Hotland). Along with the addition of Toriel’s Home, which appears identical to the one in New home in almost every way, we might guess that this area is an upper area of the original Castle (or Royal Palace, whatever word works) and that it was probably an open air garden area for the Royal Family or others near them. Personally I feel like it could be a play area for the young Prince Asriel to practice at puzzling without his parents worrying too much, but I don’t know that there’s much evidence supporting this. Also there’s the more dangerous puzzles involving spikes, which might have been added later, but we’ve no way of knowing for sure (Didn’t Papyrus suggest that spikes were every child’s dream?). Toriel’s Home itself, much like Asgore’s Home at the end of the game, also acts as a guard to the main exit. An exit to the Ruins into the rest of the Underground, and later an exit from the Underground altogether. This sort of thing fits with the whole Boss Monster idea, which in traditional games act as threshold guardians. So in both cities, the King and Queen were overseers of the main door in and out of the city, placed directly in their living quarters. I have to assume that both are part of a much bigger castle because while they appear tiny when we actually play in them, there’s a scene in Waterfall where we get a good glimpse of the city of New Home and there’s definitely a big whopping castle there in the middle. So either Asgore and Toriel just...don’t live in the big castle (why would they build it?) or Asgore’s home is just a small part of the castle, the royal family’s living quarters. And since its identical to Toriel’s home in the ruins, which is elevated above the main city for unstated reasons, I think it might be reasonable to assume that it too is part of a large castle or palace and acts as the royal family’s living quarters apart from rooms where matters of state are dealt with. Though based on the rooms of various levels it could be a training ground, store rooms, or a set of different rooms that make up that level of the castle. The entire area of the Ruins and Home are populated by various small and weak monsters. Some of them being almost feral or wild in nature, while others appear to be there just to hide or make trouble. A Froggit tells us that Toriel was seen coming from the lower city itself with groceries, which makes it more or less certain that some sort of civilization is thriving in the main city itself, with  enough Monsters around for a working community and things like stores you can buy groceries from. Finally the end of the Ruins, reached by going through Toriel’s home and down to a lower level (which would put it back down on the same level as the city of Home and lower than the rest of the Ruins you travel through), is a large pair of doors with the Delta Rune on them. Beyond them is another long tunnel ended not by a door but by pillars and a wide open dark space occupied by Flowey and a patch of grass and bare earth. Most of the Ruins have the purple flooring, like tile or paved stone. Only the first area where you fall down and this area have this... open feeling. I suspect this area might have been a courtyard just outside the main castle doors but before the outer wall. And indeed we find a second set of ornate doors to leave through, entering out into the Snowdin Forest. The very first thing we see there is the doors we came through set in a very large and purple stone wall. We don’t see much of it, but we know that the Ruins are inaccessible to us and the rest of the Underground, so the wall must be either very tall, or might totally seal off the Home area from the rest of the caverns. It is certainly not a natural feature due to its color, the resemblance to the stonework of the rest of the ruins, and the stylized doorway of the same colored stone set in it.

[airis-paris14]

Redemption 15

Summary:One person, a secret, and and ocean tore them apart. Six years later, they find their way back together. But a rekindled love is not Redemption.

A/N: Let me know how y’all feel about this cause, chile..... I hope y’all enjoyed the fluff while it lasted.

Masterlist

[5 Weeks Ago] Birnin Zana, The Royal City, Wakanda

The palace was silent as the royal family sorted through the work in the office. “I am going to get some lunch. Did either of you want anything?” Shuri stood filing away the papers she had sorted through. “No,” Ramonda glanced up sadly at her youngest child, “Thank you though.”

“Brother,” the teen pulled the newly coronated king out of his thoughts. “No, I am fine. I want to get through this safe before I take a break for the day.” The king stood from his father’s chair and walked over to the desk, looking for the holographic keypad. “Very well. I am gonna head down to my lab after I eat, if I am excused, mama?”

Ramonda nodded silently and the teen kissed the crown of her head before leaving. The Queen watched her son fiddle with the safe before speaking,” Try your ring,”  She stood and glided over to where he stood. “One time, Your father asked me to grab something from the safe, and that is when I realized the keypad and lock did not work. Place your ring under the lock projector.” With an eyebrow raised, T’challa let the light flow over his ring before the door clicked open. His mother smiled as the king pulled the small safe open. “You are welcome,” the Queen Mother laughed. T’Challa chuckled and grabbed the surprisingly small stack of papers out of the metal box. A small stack of letters caught his attention. “Will you take your father’s office? Or remodel your own?” The Queen asked, looking up when she did not receive an answer. “T’Challa?”

“I am sorry. What did you ask Mama?” The king continued to shuffle through the envelopes, his frown deepening with each subsequent pass. “What on earth are you reading?” The Queen frowned and reached for an envelope. “These letters, I know this address. I saw a deed for it the last time I sorted through these papers with baba.”

 “Well, what did he say about them? I am sure it is just a war dog-” The queen is cut off as T’Challa shot out of his seat. He slipped his shoes on and ran out of the room. “For Bast’s sake,” Ramonda sighed and grabbed the letters her son dropped. A picture of a small boy and a pair of graduation tickets fall out of the envelope. In the photo, the child was smiling, holding a backpack and grinning, his smile just like T’Challa’s. The longer she stared, the more obvious the connection became. The mother flipped over the picture and read Aiden’s First Day of School. Her heart sank as she opened the letter and saw the signature at the bottom, “Zari. Oh, my love, what have you done T’Chaka?” Tears formed in Ramonda’s eyes as she began to look around for more clues as to what had transpired all the while her mind kept repeating. My son has a son.

The roaring of a jet caught her attention as it shot past the palace window. She sighed realizing her son left to walk into a situation he hardly understood. Ramonda plopped back into her husband’s desk chair. “I thought we promised not to hide anything from each other?” Her hands ran over the desk before she found the compartment latch she was looking for. The wooden top popped off and she reached in. Sorting through the papers, she found the deed to the townhouse and started to connect the dates. The more  she searched her husband’s files the picture became even more clear. “But what is a marriage without secrets,” the woman sighed, dropping her head into her hands.

[Present Day] New York City, New York, United States of America

“What are you doing?” 

Zari looks up to find Melanie frowning from the doorway. “I’m just,” she stutters as her partner walks in, “Supposed to be on a flight back home with your son and boyfriend,” Melanie drops her bags and raises an eyebrow. Zari’s gaze flits between the door, her phone, the costumes, and Melanie. “Does T’Challa know you are here?”

Tears form in the young mother’s eyes before she can stop them. A sob forces its way out of her throat and soon Melanie’s arms engulf her in a hug. “Okay okay,” the brown-skinned seamstress soothes her best friend. “Tell mama all about it child,” Melanie sings. A laugh mixes with a sob as Zari tries to catch her breath. A few minutes later her breathing evened out and the two women were rocking together slowly. “You ready to tell me what that was all about?” 

Zari sighs and looks up at her best friend, “I’m terrified to go home.”

“Well, I got that,” Melanie laughs and Zari does too. “Have you told T’Challa how you feel?”

“We talked about it last weekend, but I thought that I could come here and calm my nerves before flying out.”

“This can’t be your only safe haven love. If T’Challa knows you are nervous, I’m sure he’d be more than willing to help ground you.”

Zari sighs, “I know. But he and Aiden. They’re so excited. Aiden has been learning Xhosa and how to greet his grandmother and aunt and-“ the young mother teared up, “I just feel like I’m ruining everything. I can’t seem to get excited about going home. I’m terrified.” 

“I know, but you have to be kinder to yourself. You are a survivor Zari. Wakanda comes with a lot of baggage for you. It’s ground zero for some of the worst moments of your life. 

In spite of that, you agreed to go to make your son happy. You’re putting his needs before yours and that’s what a true mother does.” Melanie reassured. “Uh Zar,” Renee popped her head in the room, “your boyfriend is outside waiting. Aiden is asleep so he can’t come in.” 

The seamstress nodded and dropped her head into her hands. “Thank you, tell him I’ll be out in a second.”

The actress glanced at Melanie who nodded, letting her know she could handle this. Melanie watched Renee leave her attention moving to her partner’s groan. “I’m so stupid. I’ve ruined the whole day and we haven’t even left yet. Maybe I should just let them go and have fun together,” she reasoned. “Nah. You’re getting on that plane if I have to carry you myself.  Your kindergartener is going to a whole new continent  for the first time with a father he just met. You cannot leave him alone in this. He needs you.”

Melanie packed away the tools Zari had pulled out. She grabbed her best friend's bag and held it out. “Chop chop, lets go.” The mother stood and grabbed the bag. “I’m making the right decision right?”

“I honestly don’t know, but if it’s not the right one, it’s a damn good one.” Melanie pushed her through the backstage corridors and out onto the front stairs of the theatre. T’Challa stood at the bottom of the stairs, a sleeping Aiden on his shoulders. His body visibly relaxed once he realized Zari was safe. The seamstress pulled her best friend in for a final hug, guilt settling in her stomach when she realized how worried T’Challa must’ve been. For the first time he’d had to get Aiden together alone and figure out where his girlfriend had disappeared too. When she popped down the final step, T’Challa pulled her into a hug. “Please don’t do that. I thought I’d lost you again, and my heart cannot take that.” Zari nodded into the embrace,” I’m so sorry,” she sniffed. “I put your bags in the car if you’re okay with leaving from here, we can talk on the plane.” The father explained.

The younger couple looked up as clapping rained down, “KISS kiss,” someone chanted and soon the whole crowd joined in. All the actors, dancers, and crew stood on the theatre steps laughing. Most still in their coats suggesting they never made it into the building. T’Challa pecked Zari’s lips and the whooping intensified. “Don't you people have jobs?,” Zari yelled and some people chuckled. “Okay back to work, you’re all officially late,” Lin called, corralling the now moaning group into the theatre. “Be safe,” he called over his shoulder. Melanie threw in one final wave before she too headed inside.

 “I’m sorry again, I didn’t mean to worry you,” Zari repeated and the king nodded. “I know, but with our history, you disappearing when you need space without telling me, it’s not going to work. My heart will stop every time guaranteed.” T’Challa strapped Aiden into his seat before opening the door for Zari to get in. He followed suit and the driver pulled away from the curb.  “I was not thinking,” Zari started explaining, “I just needed to get out of the house.” 

“Is going home still bothering you? We can postpone the trip, head to a different location instead?”

“No you and Aiden have been so excited about this trip. That’s why I didn’t say anything. I don’t wanna ruin the trip with my irrational fears.” 

“They aren’t irrational Zari. They are not random, and they are not unfounded. You were taken from your home in the middle of the night, sent to a new continent and country, then gave birth to your son alone at 18. Who would not be nervous to go back home?” 

“How are you so calm about this? I feel like I’m close to coming undone every moment I spend thinking about it.”

The king sighed, “I am afraid too, but I choose to focus on Aiden. He’s gonna meet my mother, see where I grow up, and see a place where he will spend time growing up. Is there not one thing you ever wished you could’ve done with him?” 

“When I was young, mama used to take me to the cliffs and lull me to sleep singing lullabies into the air beyond the edge and it would echo back up. I always said I’d do the same for my children,” a smile etched its way into Zari’s features. The king grinned, “So grab onto that image and hold it. When you feel like running away on this trip, hold onto that goal as your safe place. Imagine yourself at the falls singing our son to sleep.” 

“And breathe,” Zari grabbed the King’s hand, “yes-“ he grinned, “don’t forget to breathe.” 

****

“What is your happy place?” Zari asked as the jet cruised over the Atlantic Ocean. 

“Huh,” the king turned to face the mother of his son. “The falls are the memory that keeps me from running, what keeps you here? Safe from the panic attacks we are prone to?”

“You are going to laugh,” the king chuckled. “I’ll do my best not to,” Zari promised leaning into his shoulder. “Do you remember the winter formal senior year?” 

Zari nodded, “My mom was so worried when we decided to wear white. She was convinced people would think we looked like one of those American wedding movies. Like we were making a statement,” Zari chuckled. The king nodded and pulled her closer on the long seat, “I know we weren’t making a statement at first. But by the end of that night I was. I knew what I wanted, and when you went missing, that picture became my safe place. When I thought I’d never see you again, I used to imagine that it was our wedding photo. That was my happy place, it still is.”

Butterflies erupted in Zari’s stomach and she let a smile stretch over her face, “You play your cards right, you might now have to imagine much longer,” she grinned and laughed at the shocked expression on T’Challa’s face. A few hours later T’Challa excused himself to wake Aiden and get him ready as the ship neared Wakandan airspace. Zari twisted her fingers together as she stood and walked closer to the cockpit. She’d never seen her home country from the outside. The ship headed towards a grove of trees and broke through the country’s barrier. Her anxiety levels dropped as the familiar scene of the border tribe villages came into view. Children ran chasing the jet and waved desperately. Zari waved back as best as she could before the aircraft zoomed out of their sight. The city unfurled in front of the ship and the pilot set her sights on their destination. Zari took a deep breath when the jet passed her neighborhood and slowed to make its descent over the castle.

 “Woah, Baba this is where you live?” Aiden ran past his mother and pressed his face to the glass. “Don’t put your mouth on the glass Aiden,” Zari gently reprimanded. The boy leaned back, but his eyes stayed glued to the castle as they landed on the tarmac. 

“Are you alright?”

Zari nodded. “I just need a second.” The king nodded and kissed her forehead. They stood together watching their son ramble excitedly about everything he was seeing. T’Challa pulled his love into his arms and she rested her head on his chest. 

****

“What is taking him so long?” Shuri leaned over to ask her mother. The jet had been sitting on the tarmac for ten minutes now. The luggage had been unloaded and even the pilot had disembarked. Ramonda sighed. She had not told her daughter what she and her son had learned that led him to leave so abruptly. She herself was not sure of how to feel about the bits and pieces that she knew, and during this period of grieving any reason to be upset with her father, or his legacy, is not what Shuri needed. 

Quite frankly, Ramonda had no idea what was keeping her son. She had a sliver of hope that he had found Zari and their son, but a lot could change in five years and that sweet girl could want absolutely nothing to do with their family, and no one could blame her.

 “Who is that?” Shuri’s question interrupted the Queen’s thoughts. She pulled the gaze she was not aware had drifted, back to the ship and felt tears burn her eyes. She recognized the young woman walking down the stairs beside her son and the child he was holding in his arms. “He went on a rescue mission?” Shuri’s second question also went unanswered as the queen abruptly ran towards the young woman to pull her into a hug. Tears rolled down Ramonda’s cheeks. Zari felt herself relax into the familiar embrace and fought her own tears. “Oh my love I am so sorry,” the queen apologized, pulling back to look her in the eyes. “You knew,” Zari frowned, getting ready to pull away, but Ramonda held firm. “I found out when T’Challa did, but unlike him,” she glanced at her son,” I stayed and tried to piece together what happened before heading out into the unknown. Fury blazing,” the queen raised and eyebrow in his direction and he gulped, setting down Aiden who had begun to wriggle in his hold. “I realize the error of my ways now,” the king replied, running his hands together. “I am sure you do,” his mother hummed before pulling Zari into another hug. “I am so glad you are here sweet girl,” Ramonda sighed gently cupping Zari’s cheek and the woman nodded. “I cannot say that I was not a little apprehensive. I thought you all would hate me.” 

“If it is any consolation,” the queen let her hand drop to squeeze Zari’s, “I was afraid you would hate us,” she admitted. 

“It was not your fault. I always understood that,” Zari reassured. Ramonda sighed and squeezed her hand. “We will talk later. Catch up.”

The older woman’s regal gaze turned to Aiden,“ And you must be Aiden?” She grinned. The kindergartener nodded and latched onto his mother’s leg. “Aiden,” his father started, “this is your grandmother or umakhulu. She is my mother or umama,” the king explained gently pulling his son away from his mother and bringing him closer to his grandmother. “May I have a hug?” Ramonda opened her arms and the kindergartener giggled and obliged. “I always wanted a grandma,” he revealed when Ramonda settled him on her hips. “What a coincidence, I have always wanted a grandson!” 

The two broke into giggles before she set him back on the ground. “Is that Shuri?” Zari asked, nodding towards the teen who stood at the end of the tarmac watching the reunion. “Yes, my baby girl is all grownup . She’ll graduate this year to head off to university.” 

“She’s only what sixteen?” Zari asked then grinned, “She must be smarter than you,” Zari teased the king. “Yeah yeah,” he waved away. He and his mother lead the two over to Shuri. Zari raised both palms in a formal greeting and curtsied. “Princess,” Zari smiled. Shuri bowed her head in acknowledgment but the confusion never left her face. “Shuri, this is Zari, my girlfriend. She was around a lot when you were younger but she went missing five years ago. And our son, Aiden.” The little boy waved back when the teenager waved at him. “Hello, I apologize I don’t remember much, and I do not understand,” she shook her head looking back between her mother, brother, nephew and sister in law she guessed. Zari nodded as the Queen spoke, “That is more than understandable. Why don’t we all sit down for a late lunch, we have much to discuss.” Ramonda ushered everyone inside to the dining hall. Aiden walked along with his aunt and grandmother as his parents trailed behind. 

“Everything looks the same,” Zari noted as they walked. “I have not had the heart to make any changes since he passed. We were in the process of cleaning out his office when I came to find you.” 

“Will you take his office? I assume you have one of your own?” You were so excited to re-decorate it after graduation. We were to go shopping together,” Zari reminisced. 

“I am not sure, I will probably just keep my own. I do not want to be in any space that was his right now,” the king sighed. Zari frowned and bit her lip, “What is troubling you?” T’Challa stopped walking and grabbed her hands. 

“I hate to think that my situation has driven a wedge between you and your father after his death. You should only be having good thoughts right now.”

“Zar, none of this is your fault. He made the decision to keep my son from me. Intentionally. I just need time to come to terms with that. My own father kept me from being present in my first born’s life.” The king frowned, “He  brought this on himself. It is just hard because I will never get to ask him why.” The designer nodded and the couple continued walking both deep in thought. 

“You may all be dismissed,” Ramonda smiled as she carried in the family’s lunch. With some hesitation and additional reassurance, the queen walked all of the servants out of the dining room before shutting the door and moving her family into the informal dining room. Quickly shutting those doors as well.  “Sometimes I swear they forget I did have a life outside of this palace before I married your father. I can serve a simple lunch,” the queen muttered before heading back over to the table. “They just want to help mama,” T’Challa laughed as the woman huffed. “I know, but I am tired of everyone following me around like I am an invalid anytime I want to do something myself. I lost a husband, not an arm!” The queen placed the last plate in front of Aiden before settling into her own seat and taking a deep breath. “And as much as those two things hurt, I will be fine,” she looked up at her children’s frowns and Zari’s sad smile. She reached over and grabbed both T’Challa and Shuri’s hands. “I will be fine,” she reassured, “Besides, soon enough I will be moving out anyway. To make room for the next royal couple to start,” she smirked and glanced down at Aiden, “or finish making their own family.” 

T’Challa frowned and went to speak before his mother cut him off, “you cannot change my mind T’Challa. You and Zari, or whomever you marry need space to be young and in love without your mother being here to hear every second of it. Your grandparents moved out for your father and I. I shall do the same. Shuri may do whatever she so chooses, but we do not need to worry about that matter for the moment. Zari, Aiden, you must be starved. Why don’t we all eat.”

“Aiden, finish your vegetables, not just the fruit,” Zari reminded as her son pushed around the food on his plate. Reluctantly he finished the portions left and his mom smiled down at him. “So, Zari,” Ramonda started, “I know very little about the circumstances involving your disappearance just that you were pregnant, graduated, lived in New York City, and that my husband orchestrated the whole thing.” 

“What? Baba would never-“ Shuri started. “Shuri,” her brother interrupted her and shook his head. He gestured for Zari to start and the woman offered the princess a sad smile, but the teen only turned her hurt expression the other way. “Umm, is there somewhere Aiden could go? I don’t want him hearing this,” the mother whispered to the king who excused himself and the little boy, “Let’s go see if you can help the chef make dinner,” he pulled Aiden up into his arms and they headed to the kitchen attached to the dining room. The three women sat in awkward silence as Shuri avoided looking at the guest. “Are you still into biology? It was your favorite thing to talk about when you were younger-“

“I know. I was there,” Shuri glanced at Zari. “Shuri Udaku,” Ramonda hissed and Zari shook her head letting the Queen know it was fine. She understood, she’d anticipated this reaction from both her and Ramonda. She wouldn’t want to accept that her father had done something like this either. The teen sighed, “My favorite area of study is biochemistry. So yes and no, but I plan to minor in physics in university.” 

Zari nodded, surprised to get so much information. T’Challa returned Aiden less and the room descended into quiet once more. “Well, as you know,” Zari started. “I was pregnant with Aiden and I had planned to tell T’Challa after brunch the next morning. The day before, I had run into the king leaving the doctor appointment that had confirmed I was expecting. Somehow the king knew as well and told me congratulations when he spotted me in the hall of the hospital. When I confirmed the news reluctantly, he,” Zari paused dreading continuing her story, “he said that I should not tell T’Challa because he needed no hindrance in becoming king. When I said that I refused to keep this from you, he offered me a private  abortion that he would pay for. Again I refused and told him that you deserved to know about your child. He finally agreed and I thought that the matter was settled. Until that night. Some guards showed up at my house and took me and Isha from our parent’s home. We were driven to some building way off of the road and outside of the city. From there I was put on a plane, and I do not know what happened to Isha. I woke up in New York City and was told that the king had found me a war dog doctor, a house, and offered me the choice of any institution in the city all expenses covered. I had Aiden and now we’re here.” Zari sighed and glanced at everyone’s faces. Each seemed to be lost in their own world. T’Challa and the Queen seemed to be reflecting on some experience, while silent angry tears trickled down Shuri’s face. 

“I hate to, but I must,” Ramonda broke everyone’s focus, “I saw that he sent you monthly allowances for Aiden, what did you do with that?”

“I put it in a college fund for Aiden and have never touched any of it. Initially I sent the checks back, until the king wrote and wished that I would

allow him to provide for his grandson.” The queen nodded but the king’s jaw clenched, “That should have been me providing,” he mumbled. Zari nodded sadly, taking his hand in hers. The teen glanced at their intertwined hands and stormed out of the room. Zari watched her go sadly feeling like she’d been kicked in the gut. Shuri had been like the little sister she’d never had, and she’d loved every second of it. Now the young woman hated her. 

“She will come around,” Ramonda grabbed Zari’s freehand, “This news is hard for all of us” 

“I know I just wish I did not have to be the one to bear it. I wish his majesty was here to explain himself. The last thing I want is for you all to be angry with him during this period of mourning.”

“If I know my husband like I feel I do, he’d be glad that this family is being put back together in his absence. Bast rest his soul, he was ‘image over everything’ but  these past few years, that had started to shift slightly. Who's to say whether or not he would ever have been honest and told us. But I’m sure he is glad that we are doing this. You needed closure too and T’Challa needed his son.” 

“I will go check on Shuri,” T’Challa kissed Zari, then his mother’s forehead before following his younger sister out of the room. “I should probably go check on Aiden.” Zari stood and the queen followed. “Help me with these dishes and we’ll both go check on him. We should probably take a walk too, give Shuri and T’Challa some space.” 

“Can we go to the falls? It is almost his nap time and I’ve always wanted to sing him to sleep by the falls. My mother used to do that with me.”

Ramonda grinned and hooked her arm through Zari’s. “That sounds lovely, I’ll teach you some that I know.”

****

“Shuri why are you acting like this?” The king huffed as he walked into her lab. “Why am I acting like this?” The teen exclaimed moving from behind her desk to face him, “Why are you and mama acting like this! You truly believe the word of this stranger? You believe that baba practically threw her out of Wakanda for being pregnant with your son? Even if baba threw her out, are you sure it is not because the boy is not yours? She could’ve been spreading her legs for-“ 

“That is enough!” T’Challa slammed his palm on the table, interrupting Shuri’s rambling. I get that you are upset and hurting. For Bast sake, I am hurt by everything too Shuri! But I will not allow you to degrade my girlfriend and the mother of my son!”

“Alleged son!” The scientist shot back.

 “He is mine! And you will respect him and Zari as members of this family!” The king roared and the princess walked back around and took a seat, staring at him coldly as she gathered her thoughts. “All I am saying is that baba had to have a reason. The only one I can think of is that the baby was not yours and she was trying to pin it on you. You need to get a paternity test or I will do one,” Shuri threatened before walking away deeper into the lab.  “Shuri do not touch my son!” He called after her.

 The king ran a hand over his face before returning to his office. He contemplated all of his options and sighed as Shuri’s logic got the better of him. He didn’t want to believe it, but he also did not want to believe that his father could send Zari away. With his mind made up he glanced at the clock realizing he’d missed dinner. He walked up to his old bedroom where he’d had Aiden’s stuff taken and as expected he found his girlfriend maneuvering his sleeping form into some pajamas. He watched for a few moments before noticing her struggling to get the shirt over his head. “Would you like some help?” He whispered moving closer.  Zari smiled up at him tiredly and they moved together to finally pull the shirt over the kindergartener’s head. They tucked him under the covers and Zari traced the outline of his head and face. “You gave my baby your big ass head and ears,” Zari chuckled, and the king playfully bumped her shoulder. “Let’s take a walk,” he grabbed her hand before kissing his son’s forehead, dreading the conversation he was about to start. The couple wandered out into the garden where the breeze and moonlight swept across their faces. 

“How was your talk with Shuri?” Zari broke the silence as they waved at a guard stationed in the garden. The king stared off in the distance, “Not well,” he finally admitted and watched his girlfriend’s face fall. He loved how close she and Shuri used to be, and he knew that it was hurting her that her “mini me” was being so hostile. “She is just hurting right now. Baba just passed and now she’s learning an ugly truth so she’s lashing out. You know that it is nothing personal against you.”

“I understand. Does not make it hurt less. Does she think I am lying?”

“Partially, she believes that Aiden is not mine,”the king started. “Oh,” Zari offered as they continued on. “She’s trying to find a good reason to explain why our father would have sent you away, and that’s what she came up with.”

“Well as long as you and your mother know, she’ll come around eventually right?” Zari glanced up at the king. Dread filling her stomach when the king didn’t immediately agree. Anticipating her next move T’Challa squeezed her hand tighter to keep her from running. “She wants us to do a paternity test and I can only assume the council of elders is going to want one as well so-“

Zari pushed down the embarrassment and anger that flooded her system, “No T’Challa. Because if you did not want this, you would find a way around it. So do you want the paternity test too?”

The king gulped then nodded, “I do,” his heart shattered as he watched Zari come apart on the inside through her eyes. She snatched her hand back and took a few steps away, “So all of this time. This past month, you did not trust me? You didn’t believe Aiden was yours?”

“Zar-“

“No! Because I did not ask you to come. I did not ask you to fly to America, come get us, and ‘save us’. I did not ask you to play savior! You did that! You found the letters! You found the picture! You saw it and “just knew” T’Challa. You stood in my townhome and told me that you saw the Photo of Aiden and you knew he was your son! For fucks sake even your mother saw the photo and knew. Now a month later you wanna come out and ask for a paternity test? Now that Aiden has gotten attached to you?!” 

“Are you saying that he is not my son Zari!”

“That is all you took from-“ the woman threw her hands up and walked away. “Un-fucking-believable,” she muttered as she stomped up the stairs onto the palace patio. “Zari wait, is he or is not my son,” the king grabbed her arm and turned her around. Tears were streaming down her face by this point and she furiously wiped them off, “He is your son T’Challa. I was with no one before you and no one since. Don’t fucking touch me your majesty,” Zari pushed his hands off of her arms and the king nodded. “Then if you have nothing to hide Zari, why are you so against this test?”

“I am not against the test T’Challa! I am offended that you do not trust me!”

“I do trust yo-“

“No you don’t T’Challa. If you did you would not have had the audacity to ask me for this test when you were there the night he was conceived. The condom broke and we were both terrified. You told me you would be there for anything! Now you’re sitting up here asking me for a test like I was with multiple men at 18! You know you were the only one! I was never like that! So excuse me if I’m hurt and offended that me man I love, the man I thought loved me, asked me for a fucking paternity test on a child that we both know is his!” Zari yelled as she walked back inside the palace. 

“Lower your voice Zari,” the king grit as he followed her into the palace to their room. The couple stormed into their room and the mother went immediately to where her clothes had been hung up and folded into the closet. Her hands move furiously grabbing everything she can and stuffing it back into her suitcase. “Zari what are you doing? Look I’m sorry Zar. I shouldn’t have asked. It was uncalled for.” 

“You’re damn right,” she muttered, zipping the haphazardly repacked suitcase. “But I’ll give you the stupid test, because the last thing I need is for you or anyone else questioning Aiden’s parentage down the line. But as far as I am concerned,” Zari slammed her bag down on the ground and grabbed her toiletries and purse in her arms, “this is over. We can co-parent your majesty, but I cannot, I will not, be with a man who chooses his 16 year old sister's wishes over mine. Especially when the evidence is right there in front of his face. She is a child! I am the one who put all of my trust on the line again with you, and it took you three weeks. Three weeks to break it T’Challa. And this time, it really was your fault.” Zari grabbed her bag and began wheeling it out of the room and down the hall, peeking in doors to find a guest bedroom. 

“Zari wait! Please come back,” the king hurried after her. 

“And since you believe so strongly that Aiden isn’t yours, stay away from my son until that positive test comes back!” She hissed in response.

“Look Zari, I am so sorry. I’ll sleep on the couch or the floor or something. You can have the bed. Just come back to the room.”

Zari found the first open room and walked in tossing her things on the bed, “I think we both need some space right now. Just leave me alone.” She turned to face the king who had tears rolling down his face. “Then I am sleeping in here on the floor,” he walked over to the closet and grabbed an extra set of sheets and began making a bed on the floor. “T’Challa,” Zari sighed. “Just sleep in your own bed.” 

“No I lost you once, I’m not leaving your side again.” He grabbed the two spare pillows and made himself comfortable on the floor. “Fine,” Zari tossed up her hands, unpacked, and went into the bathroom to change for bed. “Goodnight,” she murmured as she passed the king on his makeshift bed. “Goodnight” he replied as she closed her eyes and emotional exhaustion led her off to sleep.

Taglist: Taglist:  @almostpurelysmut @blackbypurpose @nyneebee @hutchj @tchoking @sisterwifeudaku @wikiwakanda @royallyprincesslilly @90sinspiredgirl @strictlyashley @afraiddreamingandloving @thedelightfulone @autumn242 @purple-apricots @kumkaniudaku @queertrex @kaciidubs @halfrican-heat @skysynclair19 @dramaqueenamby @gorjiss @leahnicole1219 @kreolemami @mzbritt @yoyolovesbucky @derangedcupcake @builtalongthewayside @ilcb7 @chaneajoyyy @lalapalooza718 @ororowrites @leahnicole1219 @dopegalkk @sarcastic-sunshines @sarahboseman @shesakillerkween @waitingonafriend @faatassbitch @lady-love-and-glitter-roses @cxnismajcr @tchallasbabymama

[minmotl]

Chapter 44: Sui Zhou,“If You are Willing, This Will Be Your Home From Now On.”

Context: A continuation of Chapter 43.

Introduction Post | Masterpost

—

Highlights under the cut

Tang Fan’s bout of illness lasts for half a month.

Due to this, Sui Zhou is also able to see Tang Fan’s relationship with others.

He is not even referring to the scholars who passed the exam the year that Tang Fan did, amongst them, a majority has already been released and then the handful that made up the creme of the crop of the cohort and now still remain in the Imperial Academy to build up their experience — To be able to stay in such a department to train themselves is an honour, and not every single person is like Tang Fan, who was ‘silly’ enough to be transferred out of the academy.

Just in these two weeks, four to five of Tang Fan’s cohort mates have already come to visit him, one after the other, and this includes that year’s top scholars Xie Qian and others.

This number is considered rather significant. After all, Tang Fan is not someone who is charming enough to have charmed the pants off of everyone he meets, earning their love and affection immediately. Moreover, officials in Jing city are both simple and poor, and for those who aren’t very familiar with Tang Fan, they still have to turn up with gifts should they visit in person, and so if they cannot afford to buy a gift, they naturally decide not to turn up at all. Instead, they have sent notes asking after him and Tang Fan received their well wishes and thoughts gratefully.

For Shun Tian Prefecture that Tang Fan works in, both Wei Yu and Du Jiang also visited him for a short while, sitting down and also bringing Yin-daren, Lao Wang and more with them to greet Tang Fan. From the Northern Administrative Court, Xue Bing who is familiar with Tang Fan also turned up, bringing with him Pang Qi.

Of course, these two individuals most probably considered the good relationship between Tang Fan and Sui Zhou, and being nice to their boss’ good friend means they can score some points with him, so this connection is understandable as well.

Lao Xue is a rather humorous person and chatters a lot, a far cry from his direct supervisor. He sat in Tang Fan’s room for half a day and the laughter in Tang Fan’s house did not stop for even a moment. The only thing was that Tang-daren’s voice has gone because of his illness, so he ended up coughing as he laughed, and ended up sounding just like a duck quacking. This was honestly ruining his image. Moreover, Sui Zhou was staring at them coldly from the side, as if Xue Bing and Pang Qi were a hindrance to Tang Fan’s recovery, and finally, Xue Bing was unable to sit tight anymore, running off with Pang Qi after dumping his gift at Tang Fan.

And of course, they cannot leave out the Western Depot’s Eunuch Wang.

Wang-gonggong has probably been busy arguing with other officials in court over the war in the North, and he still has to follow up on the East Palace case’s investigation, finding out who is the mastermind who collaborated with Fu Jia. He truly cannot get away, but that does not stop him from frequently sending his own men over.

If Tang Fan was now a Shang Shu from the Six Departments or an elder of the Inner Court, or perhaps has the Emperor’s favour currently, it is not such a strange thing for him to have a continuous stream of visitors, but the problem is that he’s simply a Sixth Rank prefectural judge, so everyone who visits him is trying to maintain a good relationship or touch base with him, to do what a friend would do, and not because they want to gain something from him.

From this, it is easy to see that Tang Fan has good relationships with others.

The men from the Western Depot who are visiting Tang Fan on behalf of Wang Zhi also turn up with gifts every time without fail, but from Sui Zhou’s extremely cold expression, Tang Fan feels as if Eunuch Wang is doing this to purposely rile Sui Zhou up. But no matter how much he thinks about it, it doesn’t seem as if the both of them are harbouring any old grudges towards each other, unless it’s due to some enmity between the Western Depot and the Embroidered Uniform Guards?

Tang Fan takes notes of this and once he has the opportunity, he says to Sui Zhou, “How about when I’ve recovered, I’ll find a house and move out?”

Sui Zhou is clearly not expecting this, and he frowns, “Why?”

“Although we’re both good friends and you’ve also let me and Ah Dong stay free of charge, at the end of the day, it’s still your house and my friends and acquaintances constantly coming and going, it’s not very good and I’ve bothered you and your rest…” Tang Fan says.

“I’m not bothered,” Sui Zhou returns.

Tang Fan is about to continue but Sui Zhou stops him by asking a totally unrelated question, “To you, is Wang Zhi a friend or an acquaintance?”

Tang Fan pauses, stunned, “He’s probably neither?”

At that, Sui Zhou is surprised, “Why is that so?”

Tang Fan laughs, “As friends, we must be honest with each other, take care of one another without reserve and help each other out. Between Wang Zhi and I, if I say we are friends, then there is the lack of some warmth. Look at me, I’m now staying here and I’ve almost taken over your entire house, and if you ask me to try that at Wang Zhi’s house? I definitely will not go.”

It’s nothing novel for major officials and eunuchs to interact, but they have to be aware of the possible effects. If it’s with someone like Huai En, that’s one thing, but with Wang Zhi who’s morally ambivalent, it is easy for him to influence the reputation of the person he’s interacting with. When one’s reputation is ruined, his future career as an official is ruined as well. It is because Sui Zhou saw them both in such an intimate manner previously that he is asking this question now.

Seeing that Tang Fan is showing so much clarity in his thoughts and is well aware of the intricacies of this issue, Sui Zhou nods in satisfaction, “Then do not mention moving out again, not even in the future.”

Tang Fan hesitates, “But…”

“If you are willing, this will be your home from now on.”

Tang Fan wavers a little.

Sui Zhou pats at his shoulder, “Although you and I have not known each other for long, the depth of friendship is not something that can be measured by time. It is because we understand each other that we are friends. You are supposed to accomplish great things in life, so you should not care about these little details. Even if you moved out, who knows if you will be troubled by rent or some other issues in the future, so you might as well stay here without any worries. Within the next few years, I will not be marrying, so you don’t have to concern yourself with this. Moreover, considering my position, no one will dare to intrude, so if you’re staying here, I will feel more at ease as well.”

Sui-baihu is actually not one bit terrible with words, he is just not willing to speak in excess on a usual day, but once he really speaks, the effect is a hundred times stronger than people with the most glib of tongues.

Indeed, Tang-daren is so touched that he’s totally out of it, and for someone as articulate as he, Tang Fan finds himself entirely speechless.

Taking opportunity of this, Sui Zhou hands him the medicine in his hands. Tang-daren is still filled with a spirit of heroism, of brotherhood, and takes the bowl without another thought, raising his head as he swallows the medicine down as if it is water.

His expression becomes twisted as a result.

What the hell is this… Sui Guang Chuang you’re taking advantage of someone’s moment of crisis!

Seeing his expression of complaint, a tinge of humour appears in Sui Zhou’s eyes. He picks up the bowl and then feeds Tang Fan an osmanthus candy, as if he’s soothing a small, little animal.

Tang-daren huffs and turns his head away, rejecting the offering.

Sui Zhou does not mind and directly lifts his hand, sending the candy into his own mouth.

Tang Fan, “…”

===

Notes:

*六部尚书 liu bu shang shu

尚书 (shang shu) is an official rank and title, but I’ve not been able to find what exactly the ranking is, but we can assume it’s pretty high up in the hierarchy. 六部 (liu bu) is translated as the Six Departments and refers to:

1. Ministry of Officials 2. Ministry of Households 3. Ministry of Rites 4. Ministry of War/Military 5. Ministry of Criminal Affairs 6. Ministry of Manpower/Industry

[flightlessangelwings]

What a Human Deserves

13 x fem!Reader

Word count: 3.6k

The TARDIS felt very quiet with just you and the Doctor there. The rest of the fam all decided to take some time to be with their family and friends for the day, which left just the two of you on a solo trip. Although, you had your suspicions that Yaz, Ryan and Graham had another motivation for leaving you alone with the Doctor…

You thought you were discreet with your crush on the time lord, but apparently you weren’t. One time, Ryan had caught you staring at the Doctor while she was piloting the ship, and he hadn’t stopped teasing you since. And ever since then, every time your gaze lingered on the blonde, or you bit your lip while she talked, or got flustered when she stood close to you, one of your three friends would rag on you for it. Thankfully, the Doctor seemed not to notice. Or if she did, she didn’t say anything. You weren’t sure if you were grateful for that or not.

“You ready?” her voice broke you out of your thoughts. The Doctor stood at the controls with her hand on the main lever.

“Ready,” you smiled at her and you felt your heart jump when she smiled back. The way her blonde hair framed her beautiful face made her look like the sun. You watched as your brow furrowed as she focused on the lever and switches. And with no one around to poke fun, your thoughts drifted off into your own little fantasy land.

You didn’t even notice that the TARDIS had landed until the Doctor’s face suddenly appeared right in front of you. Her face was just inches from yours as she spoke your name.

You jumped as you brought yourself back to the present, “Sorry, what did you say?” You tried to keep your face from blushing.

She couldn’t help a soft chuckle, “I said we’re here,” she took you by your hand, “Come on, let’s see where we ended up!”

This was something new; the Doctor never took your hand like that unless she was pulling you out of a dangerous situation. You tried not to think too much into it as you let her lead you out of the blue box and onto an alien planet.

The planet was absolutely beautiful. It was night, and the first thing you noticed was that there were two moons in the sky. The extra light made the planet much brighter than Earth was at nighttime, and all you could see was blue tinted mountains along with some lakes and rivers. There didn’t seem to be anyone around and you and the Doctor took a few minutes to take in the surroundings.

“It’s beautiful,” your voice was no louder than a whisper. You were so entranced by the planet that you didn’t notice the time lord stare at you. The look on her face mirrored the look you had when you looked at her. If only you noticed.

It was then at you realized she was still holding your hand. Your breath caught in your throat as you tensed suddenly. “Sorry,” you mumbled as you pulled away and shuffled in embarrassment.

The Doctor didn’t say anything, but she was amused at your behavior. It was nice for her to not be the only awkward person in the room. “Care to explore a bit?” she offered.

With a nod, you followed her over one of the hills toward what looked like an abandoned settlement. She scanned the area with her sonic and explained that you were in the far future on a planet not too far out from the solar system. It looked like there was once a mining colony, and you guessed that this was once a big and thriving city. Now, all the stood was ruins save for one large building in the center of the ghost town.

It was that building that the Doctor led you to. She resisted the urge to take your hand again, and opted just to stay close to you. There was something about this place that gave her a bad feeling, and that feeling only grew as you got closer to the large structure. This place looked different than the rest of the planet: like it was the only place where something still lived.

Yours and the Doctor’s footsteps and conversation were the only sounds in the entire town. As you got to the entrance of the large building, she perked up with curiosity and bolted around the room. You watched with admiration as she inspected the dormant technology and the architecture.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she said with wonder in her voice as she practically bounced around the room.

You lingered in the doorway and watched her with what you were sure was a stupid smile. But you didn’t care, the others weren’t here to tease you right now. The room was grand and made mostly of some type of stone. In the moonlight it almost sparkled, and the way the light reflected against the time lord made her look ethereal.

The floors had some type of design on it: overlapping circles and star-like shapes decorated the entire space except for the first few feet at the entrance. Something about it tugged at your own curiosity and you took a few steps into the room to check it out.

That is when the atmosphere in the room completely changed.

As soon as you reached where the designs started, the room shook as if it started to come alive. The Doctor quickly spun around and looked at you in fear. Not fear for her own life though, but for yours. She shouted out your name as she tried to rush over to you. But she was too late. The floor underneath you shifted and pulled you down as you screamed. It was as if the solid floor suddenly turned into quicksand for a few moments to pull you down before it turned solid again.

She reached you just a second too late and you were gone. The time lord landed on the floor and yelled your name again. Panicked, she scanned with her sonic for any trace of you.

Nothing.

Her breath became ragged as the room started to come to life around her. Large 8-foot-tall creatures with silver and blue skin seemed to emerge from the walls and surrounded the time lord. They had human-like features but they looked like they were made out of stone. The Doctor got to her feet to meet with the planet natives, and she hoped that you were ok.

“Who are you to trespass here with a human?” one asked in a deep voice. He seemed to be the leader.

The blonde collected herself, ready to bargain for your life, “We’re just travelers. Just passing through,” she kept her voice level. They didn’t immediately attack, so maybe they could be reasoned with. “Where is my companion?”

The leader snarled, “The human is on the other side of the planet by now. And my best hunter is preparing to track her down and kill her.” Anger lined his words, but there was also a hint of sadness and hurt there as well.

Right now, the Doctor’s main focus was to save you. Once you were safe, then she could work with this species and get at the underlying reason for their behavior. “I supposed there’s no possibility you could just let me take her and we go on our way is there?”

He seemed offended at the question, “Absolutely not. The human must die, as is the punishment for any human to step foot on this planet, in these halls.”

She thought for a moment. There had to be a way around this. Then, she came up with an idea. “How about a race then?” she offered.

The leader cocked an eyebrow, “A race?”

Good, she got his interest, “Yes,” she paced around to address everyone in the room, “Me against your best hunter. I win, we leave this planet and I make sure no humans ever come here again. I promise you that.”

Murmurs ran through the small crowd before they turned to their leader for his decision. “Very well,” he said after several minutes. “If my hunter gets to her first, however, she dies. This is my bargain.”

“Fine,” she gritted her teeth. She didn’t like this at all, but there was no other choice. The crowd parted to let her through, and the Doctor ran as fast as she could. “Hang on,” she whispered your name to herself, “I’m coming for you,” I’m not going to let anything happen to you, she added in her head.

Meanwhile, you regained consciousness after the fall knocked you out and found yourself at the bottom of a large pit. Your head pounded as you tried to push yourself up. The task proved harder than you expected, and you looked down and realized that your hands were bound together in front of you by a heavy chain. The chain was connected to the floor, and there wasn’t much slack so your movement was very limited. Slowly, you were able to get yourself into a standing position. That is when you noticed you were being watched.

“It’s useless to try to escape, human,” the guard was one of the natives of the planet, and he carried multiple weapons on him. You also could make out some kind of communication device on his hand. Obviously, these people were very technologically advanced. That was probably why they were able to hide themselves so well, but you wondered why they would have to hide on their own planet.

You rubbed your temples to try and calm your head, “I believe you,” was all you said in response. You let out a heavy sigh as you wondered what happened to the Doctor. You hoped she was ok. “Do you mind if I ask your name?” you turned up to him.

He seemed caught off guard. The guard hesitated before he answered you, “Neygan,” he finally answered.

You gave him a little wave from your bound hands as you told him your name, “So Neygan, what is all this? Why did the floor suck me in like that? Why am I chained up at the bottom of a pit? Where is the Doctor?” The questions helped to keep your mind from completely panicking. You figured the worst you could do in the moment was annoy him; it’s not like your situation could get any worse.

He did seem annoyed, but he also seemed curious as well. So, he indulged your questions to an extent. “Humans are forbidden on this planet, especially in the royal palace,” his tone was bitter as he spoke, “I’m here to guard you until the winner of the race gets here. Which will be our champion, not your…Doctor.”

“Race?”

He sighed, “Your…” he couldn’t come up with what to call her, “Friend. She challenged our best hunter to a race to get to you. She wins, you can leave. She loses, we get to watch you die,” the way he ended his explanation sounded like an unspoken “which is what you deserve.”

Your heart caught in your chest. The Doctor was willing to risk everything to race across an alien planet to save your life. Tears threatened your eyes from the emotions that filled you, but you fought them back. The last thing you wanted in that moment was for this guy to think you were weak.

The guard looked at you, clearly confused as he studied your reactions. He stayed silent, however.

After you collected yourself, you broke the silence. You couldn’t let your mind get away from you. “Is this the first time you’ve talked to a human?” you asked.

Neygan tried to ignore you, but for some reason he felt compelled to answer. “Yes,” was all he said.

You shifted to sit down on the ground. The chains were starting to get too heavy for you to hold up. “Hey,” your voice was soft, the question on your mind wasn’t an easy one but it was one that you felt needed to be asked, “Why do you hate humans so much? Did something happen?”

That sparked a fresh wave of anger in him as he snapped back at you, “Did something happen?!” he repeated your words in a mocking tone that made you flinch, “Everything happened! We offered peace and trade to humans, and they took everything from us! They stripped our land bare when they realized how valuable the minerals were! They hunted us for sport! Humans are cruel creatures that do not deserve to live!” the ground almost trembled with his bellowing shout.

Terrified, you curled yourself up as your shook from his words. You felt as if he beat you with his words alone. You buried your head in your arms as you listened to his deep breaths of anger. After a few minutes, he seemed to calm himself down and you slowly uncurled yourself to look up at him. It was then you saw the sadness in his face, and guilt overtook you.

“I’m really sorry,” you spoke in such a soft voice that you weren’t sure if he heard you. You watched him for a moment and saw him slowly drop his shoulders before he looked you directly in the eyes for the first time.

The anger in his eyes faded, and it seemed like you and the alien came to a wordless understanding. “I have to admit, you’re not what I expected,” he said.

You gave him a soft smile, and it looked like he was about to give you one in return when his communicator beeped. His face dropped as he turned his back to you to answer. You scrambled to your feet in an attempt to listen, but you couldn’t hear anything. When he turned back around, his face was unreadable. He raised his arm to activate a remote switch and told you, “I’ve never said this to a human before, but I truly am sorry,” before he pushed the button and the pit you were in started to fill up with water.

You gasped as you nervously looked around for a way out. You tried to pull the chains and tried to climb out of the pit, but it was no use. The water filled the space quickly and before you knew it, the water was already at your knees. You looked up at Neygan desperately, but his face was stoic. You let out a scream as your whole body shook in panic.

Over the sound of the rushing water, you thought you heard a familiar voice call your name. You looked up from the water, which was now at your waist, and shouted back, “Doctor?!”

The sound of your name again confirmed it was her. You called for her again and hoped that she would find you before the water completely engulfed you.

Tired and out of breath, the Doctor ran as fast as she could. She dove head first through all the obstacles the planet threw at her in order to reach you. Sweat lined her brow and her legs threatened to give out in exhaustion, but she pushed through it. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if she didn’t reach you in time. She managed to stay a step ahead of her opponent throughout the race, and she was so close now. In the distance, she could see the one who guarded you in your pit, and she sprinted towards him.

Her thoughts were only on you as her hearts pounded in her chest: I’m coming, I’m almost there. Just hang on.

By the time she reached the top of the pit, the only part of you that wasn’t underwater was the top of your head. She locked eyes with yours before they too disappeared under the water. The Doctor wasted no time and quickly shed her coat off before she dove in after you. The pit wasn’t too deep and she reached you quickly. You were barely awake, and you were struggling to hold your breath.

She cupped your face to reassure you before she pulled her sonic out of her pants pocket. A onceover on the chain was all it took to unlock them, and she grabbed you tightly to pull you up to the surface. She gasped and grunted as she pulled your now unconscious body out of the water and onto dry land.

“Come on, wake up,” she pleaded with you as she started compressions on your chest. Her hands shook with fear as she chanted your name and begged you to wake up.

It was only a few seconds, but to the time lord, it felt like forever until you woke up with a cough. She dropped her head and sighed in relief as you opened your eyes.

“Doctor,” you whispered as a weak smile grew on your face.

She held back tears of relief as she cupped your cheek, “You’re ok. It’s ok,” she sounded out of breath, but she still gathered her strength to help you up. She grabbed her coat and wrapped it around you once you were steady on your feet.

The hunter ran up to you then, followed by the leader and a few others from the palace. The Doctor swiftly pushed you behind her and shielded you with her body. “It’s over,” she told them, “I got to her first fair and square. Now you let her go and I promise no humans will ever bother you again.” She spoke to them with authority as she fiercely protected you.

The group looked disappointed as they turned to their leader. He definitely looked angry and disappointed that his champion didn’t win, but he was a man of his word. “Very well,” he said, “But just know, human,” he addressed you directly, “You don’t deserve to leave this planet.”

That angered the Doctor, “How do you know that? You don’t know anything about her, and yet you decided she deserves to die! What is your grudge against humans anyway?”

Before the leader could snap back, you intervened, “Wait!” you slid around to place yourself next to the Doctor. She looked at you with concern, but you squeezed her hand in silent reassurance. “You’re right,” you started but paused when everyone let out a gasp, “I know why you hate humans so much, and honestly I can’t blame you. Humans have done terrible things, even to our own people,” you scoffed before you continued, “I know none of this is personally my fault, but if we don’t start to take responsibility, nothing will change. So, for what it’s worth: I’m sorry.”

The natives all looked shocked and had no idea what to do. The leader took in your words before he waved you and the Doctor off, “Just get out of here.”

Before she turned to leave, the Doctor added, “You have my word. No humans will bother you again,” and with your hand still in hers, she led you back to the TARDIS.

“Are you alright?” the Doctor frantically checked you over once you were safely inside the ship.

You answered in a shaky voice, “I’m fine,” you looked up to meet her eyes and it almost didn’t register how close she was to you. The control room was silent for a minute as neither of you knew what to say next.

It was the Doctor who broke the silence, “You’re wrong you know.”

“What?”

“About what humans deserve,” she clarified, “Sure, there are humans who hurt and destroy like you said. But you don’t give yourself enough credit. Humans are amazing, wonderful people who are capable of so much good,” she looked at you tenderly before she cupped her hand on the side of your face, “And one of my favorite people in the entire universe is a human.”

Your eyes went wide as your breath caught in your chest. You could feel your heart pounding and you were sure you were blushing hard.

She then added, “And all I want to do right now is kiss my favorite person,” she bit her lip as her eyes glanced down at your lips, “If that’s ok.”

You swallowed hard before you answered, “Then why don’t you?” you wrapped your arms around her waist and pulled her against your body.

With your blessing, the Doctor placed her soft lips on yours in a sweet kiss. She wrapped her arms around you and held you tightly, as if she was afraid to lose you. You immediately deepened the kiss and parted your lips so that her tongue could enter your mouth and dance with yours. The control room glowed a warm amber as you and the Doctor shared your first kiss.

You reluctantly broke away for air, but stayed locked in the Doctor’s arms. The feeling of her wrapped tightly around you couldn’t compare to anything else, and you never wanted this moment to end. Both of you broke out into a soft laughter as the rough events of the day melted away and all that mattered was each other.

“Wait here a sec,” the Doctor seemed to remember something as she ran to the console. She explained as she worked that she was setting up a barrier on the planet so humans wouldn’t find it. Then she set a course for home, “Shall we get back to the fam?” she asked as she held out her hand.

With a smile, you happily took it. “I have the feeling someone is winning a bet when we get back,” you nuzzled against her as you both burst into laughter and headed home.

~

Notes: This really got away with me and ended up much longer than I meant for it to be lol! Next up will be a Thirteen smut piece, so if anyone would like to be tagged in any future 13th doctor stuff, feel free to let me know :)

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 24

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​

"This is a bad idea," Loki voiced his thoughts. 

"You make it sound like that’s new information." 

"Well, at first I thought it all might work out and make the day interesting, but right now I'm a hundred percent sure today's going to be as terrible as the entirety of last week." 

You gasped dramatically. "Terrible? But you had a good laugh with me!"

"What else was I supposed to do when my life was being ruined and my dignity trampled? File a complaint? To whom could I address it?" he asked, words sharp. 

"Why are you asking me? That sounds like your problem." 

"You don't see it as your problem only because you're the problem." 

"Nah. You're overthinking it." 

"Well, I suppose one of us has to balance out your lack of—" 

You cut him off with a sudden glint in your eyes. You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, right in front of him, forcing people to walk around the two of you with annoyed grimaces.

"Did you just say 'us'? Could it be that I've finally grown on you?" 

Loki sighed a very resigned sigh. "Yeah. Like a tumor." 

Your smile was blinding nonetheless and caused him to turn his head the other way. It was the only reason he turned his head, obviously. Your joy was unreasonable. It wasn’t not like the word slipped off his tongue on accident and he tried to brush it off… 

He only listened to your following babbling with one ear, focusing just enough to know when to nod and grunt some confirmation at the right moment. It wasn't on purpose, at least not entirely. It just so happened that his mind was occupied by different matters at the moment. 

The path you decided on took you through what you described as quite a nice part of the city. Loki had his doubts about sanity and taste of whoever was behind the design of some of the buildings. The architecture was outrageously bland and plain and no matter how hard he tried, Loki could not find any reason behind such a fascination with squares and rectangles. Involuntarily, he thought back to the elegant arches and ethereal facades of Asgard's places of culture. The rich gold and vibrant colors that brought up all of the beauty of the city and homes of its people clashed violently with what he was seeing now. And why was everything so dull? 

You crossed the street, following the mass of people rushing in the same direction. The fumes in the air brought a grimace to Loki's face. You noticed, and forgot about whatever you were just talking about. 

"You okay?" 

Loki's attention snapped back to you, surprised with how much genuine concern could be heard in your voice. 

Well, you had already proven a few times that you meant him no harm, which was nice coming from someone on this savage, disgusting realm, but Loki was not yet used to it. He was trying, though, which he found surprising. 

You frowned at his lack of response and took one of his hands in yours, warming it up. "Are you cold? I told you to bring gloves. We could warm up in one of the shops right there if you want?" 

If you didn't know him any better, you'd say Loki looked flustered, but since it would be very out of character, you decided he must have just been overwhelmed with a world that must be so different from his. Your suspicions were confirmed when he insisted on walking. The hint of color on his cheeks must've been a figment of your imagination. 

"I'm a Frost Giant, after all," he explained, very interested in the display of one of the bakeries. "The cold doesn't bother me as much as others, regardless of my clothing." 

"Damn, wish I could say the same. It must come in real handy in weather like this," you gestured to the white blankets of snow covering every surface around. It was still fresh and clean, changing the world into something a little prettier than it usually was. Or maybe it was because it covered the trash littering the streets. 

Loki followed your gaze to the few tiny flakes of snow flying loosely in the air. The sky was clear, indicating fine weather for the near future. People didn't seem to pay much attention to the weather, if only to watch out on particularly slippery parts of the pavements. 

It was a shame, though, Loki thought. The snow was the only reason the city wasn't completely hideous to his eyes. It might have been caused by the Frost Giant blood in his veins, but he had to admit he enjoyed the walk through the whitened streets more than he anticipated, even putting the architecture aside. 

The air, despite the disgusting fumes the cars around restlessly continued to produce, had the bite and frost in it that he'd always enjoyed. He remembered the days spent outside from dawn till dusk with Thor, running around the palace's grounds, building their own fortresses from snow and branches and then attacking one another until their hands were sore and their runny noses frozen. Those were the few memories Loki didn't mind his brother in. He was a terrible fortress architect. 

They often ventured far, and made Frigga worry with how late they finally made it home. Even Loki's hands were cold by then, and his clothes damp and wet, but he was happy nonetheless, innocent and unaware of what his future would throw him into. 

Loki looked down at his hands. Those days were gone, and not much could bring them back. Even winter felt different in this world, more polluted and tamed. The frost was more of a suggestion rather than a sharp bite to his skin. His heritage would always protect him from damage, but he felt the cold anyway. 

The sad truth was, the past had to stay in the past, no matter how tempting it was to recollect and dwell upon old memories. Lessons had to be learnt from it, but one can never move forward if they drag their past with them. Despite his greatest efforts, Loki didn't remember who wrote that. Still, the words felt right to him. 

With a silent nod to himself, he got back to the present. You were still standing by the bakery he randomly chose to buy some time. He had been conflicted, but things seemed clearer now. 

Once again confident in himself, Loki straightened his back and turned to face you - only to find you already staring at him. 

"How about we marry?" you proposed. 

All air left him. 

"I beg your pardon…?" was all he managed to stutter out, his voice taking a high pitch at the end, despite his efforts to keep it casual. 

You didn't seem to notice the chaos raging in his chest. You only knocked softly on one of the posters at the display. With his heart in his throat, Loki read it with more difficulty than it would usually take him. 

"It says… Some free samples are offered to everyone who proposes there? Is that a joke?" he asked finally. 

"Not according to those photos." You pointed to some low-quality pictures printed and glued under the poster. 

His frown only deepened along with his confusion. "You want us to fake a proposal for some free cake?" 

"Why not?" you shrugged. "It's not like anyone's going to check up on us to see if we actually get married later on." 

Loki blinked slowly. His heart did not slow down, but at least he was starting to hear his own thoughts over the blood pounding through his veins. "Could you please explain to me, why can't we just buy it like normal people?" 

"Do you have any money? Like, human money?" 

"No." 

"Well, all I've got on me will go for our breakfast, especially since Peter will be joining us shortly, and he always devours a double portion like he's been starving for the past year and a half. So, how about a quick proposal?" you nudged him with a wicked smile, ready to march in. 

Loki knew that stupid look on your face. You were not faking it. He sighed into the ridiculous, although nicely smelling scarf around his face. "Do you even have a ring?"

That seemed to pop your happy bubble. Your shoulders slumped and for a very brief, quickly shushed moment, Loki felt bad about it. "Damn it…" 

"Besides, how would you conceal, you know, my identity? It would be suspicious if I had to hide my whole face during all of this madness."

"That's the least of our problems, there's no way anyone would recognize you anyway. Look, we've made it pretty far already and no one's even looked at you twice—" 

You gestured around. 

A skinny, blond man was staring at Loki with a look of utter concentration and confusion of his face, no more than three paces away. 

You froze, and so did Loki. But only for a moment. 

You burst into a broad, jovial smile before approaching the man like a good friend. "What a beautiful morning, isn't it, my dear? Would you like to have a little chat with us about global warming? We've been sent out to make a quick survey about people's opinions and predictions—Where are you going, sir? It will only take a few minutes!" 

You looked after the man that would  choose to flee rather than continue the conversation. He didn't look back. 

You puffed out your chest with pride and turned to Loki. "Okay, I might've been a little bit wrong."

Loki was already casting quick glances around, fixing that stupid excuse of a cover around his face. He knew he would be recognizable. Too little time had passed since he was forced to attack the city, and people would still be bitter about it. Maybe after a few generations had passed and the memory of that disaster got lost in time… 

You joined your arms and shouldered him away from the spot and into a less crowded side-street. The snow crumbled underneath your feet, not yet turned into a muddy pulp. 

"Loki, listen, I know it might not seem like it, but I'm pretty sure everything's fine. The man didn't even recognize you, or he would’ve started screaming or talking in that very aggressive way some people love to use. And he didn't— which means he failed to connect the dots and probably thought you reminded him of some weird relative that he hasn't seen in years and just got confused… "

"You don't even believe that yourself," Loki cut you off. "You tend to babble when you get nervous."

"I… Well, you seem to know an awful lot about me for someone who hates my whole race." 

"It's not—" Loki opened his mouth but stopped. The words didn't seem important anymore. 

You paused too, still linked with him by the arm. Loki sensed the tension in your muscles and the change in your breath. 

Someone was waiting for you. 

The person wasn't tall, but the face obscured by a deep hood didn't seem the most trustworthy. A mugger wouldn't show up right in front of you, standing in the middle of the pavement. Surprisingly, no people seemed to be on your side of the street at all. 

Your fingers clenched on Loki's arm, as if you were preparing to haul him behind you. That brought a ghost of a smile on his face. As if he would let you. 

The man pointed a finger at Loki. "You should NOT be here." 

And that was when you recognized his voice. "Wong??" 

Loki frowned. "You know each other?" 

Before you managed to answer him, Wong approached you with anger loud in his every step. And snapped his fingers. 

Your stomach jumped high into your throat as the ground rolled under your feet without a warning. Loki's didn't feel much better, but he overcame the wave of nausea quickly—he knew what happened. It was a simple transportation spell he had used thousands of times. 

It didn't take you far—only to a small park, far from prying eyes. Some children were busy building a rather disfigured snowman at the far end of it, behind a line of trees, their naked branches heavy with snow. No one else seemed to occupy the place. 

Wong uncovered his face. You were right—he was pissed. 

"What is wrong with you, people? And I mean both of you. You were supposed to be the responsible one!" he jabbed you with a finger. "Don't you think he's a little too recognizable to be wandering around like that?" 

"He's got my scarf on!" 

Wong didn't bother with a response. Loki, despite his personal feelings towards the monk, couldn't blame him. 

Wong sighed, giving up trying to reason with either of you. He was aware of the god's current situation, because a big part of Sanctum Santorum's job was monitoring any threats to the realms and interdimensional peace—and Loki was very high on that list. 

On the other hand, despite the ice-cold looks he was being cast by said threat, Wong had to admit no major disaster happened yet—which was surprisingly nice (having the realm's continued peace in mind) but not ideal in Wong's personal interest (and the bet he lost to the Sorcerer Supreme). 

"I have a feeling nothing I say will make you go back to the Tower?" he asked. 

"Nope," you admitted. Loki only huffed with indifference, raising his chin high despite the thick scarf. 

Wong nodded to himself, as if he (rightly so) didn't anticipate any other answer. "Alright, then I'll at least cast a small glamor spell onto him, so you don't—" 

"Absolutely not!" 

The mere thought of the barbaric, bland magic of this realm being thrown upon him, boiled Loki's blood. If only he could reach out to his own magic, he'd show this pathetic excuse of a sorcerer what it really meant to wield such force… 

You nudged him in the ribs, hard. "He's kinda right, you know? You said it yourself—you're too recognizable." 

Loki was at a loss for words, and Wong used that moment to cast the glamor with a quick invocation and trained move of his hands. It tickled, like a wet, slippery mist blown into Loki's face. He snapped his attention back to the sorcerer, baring his teeth, but Wong was already departing. 

"It won't work on anyone who already knows you, but it should do fine against strangers. You two better not mess anything up," he said and disappeared into a portal before Loki could grab him by the throat. His hand closed on air where the sorcerer stood only seconds ago. 

"I hate this world," he growled out, clenching his fist. 

You patted his back soothingly. "I know, it's not the best sequence of events before a proper breakfast, but how about we finally go grab some? The place isn’t far." 

Loki brushed his face with a hand, the wet feeling not gone, but there was nothing he could do about it without his magic. He once again looked at the damned bracelet fixed around his wrist with pure, unfiltered hatred. 

[moth-and-raven]

CHAPTER FOUR

The rest of the day passes in a haze. Loud cheers met Nadia’s announcement and Portia slipped into the rush just in time to board the carriage, tear-stained but determined to fight through it.

I must have been imagining things. I don’t want to think poorly of Julian, but I have to face facts: people will do and say anything to keep themselves off the gallows. He’s smart. He’s charismatic. He knows I’m working with the Palace. I can’t help but think he was just trying to endear himself to me, taking advantage of how obviously attracted to him I am. I can’t blame him for that. It’s my own fault for chasing what was a pathetic pipe dream from the start.

I retreat to my room after we return to the palace. It’s not unreasonable, considering I haven’t slept much in the past few days. From my bed, I watch spots of sunlight creep across the ceiling until I fall asleep. At least it’s dreamless this time.

Portia comes to get me for dinner in the late evening, when the sky’s turned purple. She’s itching with curiosity, peeking at me from the corner of her eye the whole way to the dining hall. Before we enter, she clears her throat.

“So, um.”

“It was nothing.” If I keep telling myself that, maybe it’ll hurt less. “Did you—?”

“Safe and sound. At least as much as he can be.”

“How long had it been since—?”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth just like he does. “Ten years, give or take. The last time I saw him was right after his apprenticeship. He came back to Nevivon for a few months while he was figuring out what else to do. I was only sixteen, so he must’ve been… twenty-five?”

The same age I am now. I didn’t realize he was that much older than me, though I suppose it makes sense. He’s lived quite a life. Yet more reason for him to see nothing of interest in me.

Portia pushes on: “What will you say to—?”

“I’m not telling her anything.” I shake my head and look away. “I don’t have anything to tell her anyway.”

That’s not a lie. I may know more about him now, but nothing pertinent.

“She’ll ask.”

“I know.”

I must not be doing as good of a job hiding my sadness as I thought I was, because Portia rests her hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently. I don’t have it in me to say that whatever she’s imagining isn’t true.

I can’t do this.

“Could you tell Nadia that I—” Humiliated, I choke on my tears. “I'm— I’ll be in the library.”

I’m already around the corner by the time she agrees. I don't know what I’m going to do there, but at least I’ll be alone. Again.

I may not remember beyond the last three years, but I know in my heart that I’ve never been loved like I am in my dreams. I probably never will be. With all the beautiful people out there, who would choose me, the fat twenty-five-year-old virgin so gullible she falls for every man who looks at her twice? What could I possibly offer someone like him?

Nothing.

Painful, empty nothing.

I end up at the library eventually. At least I can navigate the palace better than I could the South End. My tears have almost stopped before I feel the metal arc of the crescent moon still hanging around my neck and break apart again. I manage to reach an armchair, nestled in an alcove near a half-flight of stairs, and curl up in it as best I can to weather the storm.

I’m so ugly when I cry. Thank god no one can see it. No one ever should.

When the waves settle and my breath doesn’t feel so foreign in my lungs, I press my palms to my eyes and sigh heavily. I have a headache now, as I always do after I cry like that. I know I should be hungry, but I’m not. I don’t know what I am.

But I made a promise. To Nadia and to Julian. Even if I never see him again, I’ll help him as much as I can. And with all of his research, all the palace staff who knew both him and Lucio, all the magic echoes swirling around waiting for someone to hear them, I think I can help him a lot.

------

I was always more comfortable at night. I sleep a little bit, curled up in the armchair, but it’s not very comfortable and I wake up sore. I’m glad I came to the library, though: Julian’s desk is a mess of torn papers and marked-up books, underlines and strikethroughs and question marks in the margins, and I have so little time to piece it all together. If I hadn’t slept yesterday away… yesterday. I shouldn’t be thinking about yesterday. It was nothing. It is nothing.

He’ll be nothing if I can’t figure this out.

Portia brings me something to eat in the very early hours, right before dawn. Without saying a word, she draws up another chair and starts sorting through things too. She can read his handwriting much more easily than I can.

And Count Lucio’s name shows up. And again, and again. Lucio’s temperature rising. Lucio says wine tastes metallic. Alchemical fluid in Lucio’s prosthetic turned red, wouldn’t survive replacement. Observations in clipped clinical speech, but scrawled with ever-increasing desperation. Lucio spitting up blood. Lucio not sleeping, complaining of bad dreams. Lucio too weak to eat, still alive.

Notes on the dissection of a beetle, a cross-section of a human brain, a map of the palace with large red Xs over half the rooms in the east wing. Peeking over my shoulder, Portia points at them.

“That’s the Count’s Suite. He had the whole wing, actually. No one goes up there anymore.”

I straighten up, my joints crackling from the hours I've spent hunched over. “Why?”

She shrugs. “Nadia had the whole thing blocked off. It’s really dirty, from the— all the ash and stuff. And people say it’s haunted.”

“By Lucio?”

“I guess. One of the other housekeepers swears they saw the ghost of a weird guy at the top of the stairs once. That it looked right at them with spooky red eyes. I think they’re full of shit, but maybe it’s worth a look?”

There could be a thousand things worth a look. If I had more time… “I don’t know. I have a couple spells that might be able to pin down a ghost, but I’ve never actually tried them.”

“If it is Lucio, though, wouldn’t he be able to say who killed him?”

“Hm. That’s true. Is the wing locked?”

Portia grins and fishes in her pocket. “Not if you have keys.”

The main staircase is close to the library. I feel the air get colder as we approach, and the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck start to stand up even before Portia unlocks the corridor that leads to Lucio’s bedroom. It’s eerily quiet, all gray and black, luxury gone to ruin in the wake of a disaster. I’ve seen reproductions of burned-out buildings that look like this, after heavy battles. It crosses my mind that destruction of that caliber had taken extremely powerful magic to accomplish, not the actions of a single man weakened by pressure and long hours in the midst of a plague. Julian can’t even do magic. He said as much during our long conversation at the Raven. I can’t imagine anything else that would do this much damage without bringing the entire palace down.

Interesting.

Cinders crunch underfoot. Charred paintings watch us pass. A primal fear creeps along just behind us, whispering then asking then screaming at us to flee. I can feel my heart in my throat and adrenaline in my blood, every sense heightened. Tattered curtains move at the corner of my eye: I’m terrified to look and even more terrified not to.

But I can tell without bringing magic to my hand that there’s nothing here. At least nothing that wants to make itself known. There’s just a spark of pure rage somewhere deep inside the wing, but it doesn’t want to be seen. No ghosts, no goats, no ghost goats. No spooky red eyes. Just soot and smoke stains and three years of neglect. The fear lurking in the back of my mind isn’t supernatural, just the normal human mistrust of the dark and abandoned.

We go all the way to the end of the suite to no avail. Part of me thinks I should stay, but I’m getting tired now and the idea of sleeping in these rooms isn’t appealing. Portia takes my sigh as an admission of defeat and pats my arm. It was a distant hope anyway.

Near the end of the corridor as we leave, a small glimmer catches my attention. If I hadn’t been looking that way to start with, I never would’ve noticed it.

“Hey Portia, what’s in there?”

She lifts up the lantern and peers into the room. “Bath chamber, I think.”

We see it at the same time, as the light catches the red gleam again: falling from the sink are drops of blood. More of it trickles across the floor. The walls are stained from it, up to the window.

“What the fuck?”

My sentiments exactly. What is this? It can’t be actual blood, can it? This is the top floor of the palace. Is it bubbling up through the plumbing?

“Nadia’s gonna want to know about this,” Portia says in a small voice.

“Wait. Let me check it out first.”

She turns to look at me, pale in the lantern’s glow. “This is way beyond whatever my brother might have done. It could infect the whole palace!”

“Do you think it’s infectious?”

Portia frowns. “Did you… Were you in Vesuvia back then? During the Plague?”

There’s no point in lying. “No.”

“Neither was I, but I heard about it. Before I left Nevivon, some sailors docked and told everyone what they’d seen. People died so quickly, there wasn’t space to keep their bodies. And they were all red, their eyes and their fingertips, everywhere you could see veins.” She shudders. “I can’t believe Ilya worked with it and… and…”

She must’ve been so scared, knowing that he could die any day.

“You know that big ugly crematorium out in the bay?” she asks.

“The Lazaret.” Everyone knows about that. You can see it from shore, a jagged silhouette reminding everyone of the toll the Plague took on the city. I don’t like looking at it: it makes my heart ache.

“Yeah. Even with that, there were too many bodies. So many people… There was a rumor that the Palace stored the extra ones, until they could be burned.”

“Where would they have been able to keep them?”

“Dunno. But there’s a huge tunnel system under here, all the way down into the cliffs. And the dungeon’s really big.”

I’d wondered how Julian could escape the prison cells, when the only way out was through the palace itself. Tunnels would explain that, I suppose. “So do you think there’s still something tainting the water?”

Her eyes are wide in the dark. “There might be. Kinda like here, no one’s been in the dungeons for ages. Probably since then.”

I frown. It’s unlikely, but I can’t deny the evidence right in front of me. I take another step into the washroom and trace the flow towards the wall. Some of the stones are loose now, after years of water damage. There’s more than enough room for it all to drain away between them.

Weak dawn sunlight floods the horizon as I stand up and glance out the window. I can see most of the city from here, out across the harbor to the Lazaret and down through the South End and directly into the lush gardens below.

And beyond the gardens, flowing from the palace along the channel of an aqueduct, is a stream of blood red.

------

Nadia scowls at the dripping red water, then summons her bodyguard to her side and dispatches them with a whispered order. Both Portia and I follow her out of the wing, but Portia splits off at the base of the stairs to see to her duties while Nadia invites me into the dining hall for breakfast.

A massive, gaudy painting hangs over the table, eyeing us as we pick over the array of egg dishes and sliced fruit. It depicts a celebration scene, I think, presided over by a muscular blond man with his arms spread wide over a crowd of adoring citizens. Nadia notices me looking at it and chuckles.

“Admiring my late husband’s art sense, are you, Reyja?”

I don’t want to offend her, but I think Count Lucio should’ve stuck to partying. “It’s, um, very vibrant.”

“That was typical of him,” she laughs. “Ostentatious to a fault.”

People don’t talk about Lucio much, unless they’re cursing his name for all the damage he did to the city with his warmongering and overspending. I’m trying to solve his murder, but now that I think of it, I don’t know much about the man himself. “What was he like?”

Nadia grimaces. “Much as you’ve heard, I expect. Loud, brash, insolent. Committed to his life of luxury. I would not have married him, had I been sober when he proposed.”

She must catch my surprise, because she fixes me in her dark eyes and raises a brow as if daring me to judge her.

Of course I won’t. “How did you two meet?”

“He was visiting Prakra,” she says. “To present himself to Empress Nasrin, my mother, as the Count of Vesuvia. He had been in power for some time by then, as I recall. I believe he told me that he’d first come to this city nearly twenty years before, on a mercenary contract.”

“He wasn’t from here?”

“No. He was of the Southern tribes.”

That’s confusing. “How did he get to be Count?”

“The former Count grew quite fond of him. Lucio was named his heir shortly after he arrived, and took the throne shortly after that. He spoke often of the battle in which he lost his arm—” She points at the painting. Lucio’s left arm shines, gilded in gold leaf. “—the same in which Spada was killed.”

Lucio may have been bloodthirsty, especially fond of the fights to the death at the coliseum Vesuvia used to be famous for, but everyone knew his roots as a successful mercenary. Even in his forties, when he died, he was strong and virile.

Which was why his death came as such a shock. Who would’ve thought such a man would die in his bed, ravished by sickness and weak enough to fall to an unskilled assassin?

“What about the Plague?” I ask quietly. People talk about Lucio a little bit, but no one discusses the Plague at all, as if the mere mention of it will cause its return.

Nadia nods. “It appeared nearly overnight, five years ago. No one had seen its like before. To my knowledge, nothing like it has been seen since, either.”

“Do we know where it came from?”

“I’m afraid not. Little is known of it, save that it killed thirty thousand of my people in two years.”

Her people. Nadia may have been Prakran by birth, but this was her city now.

“I had been visiting my sisters when it struck,” Nadia continues, gaze unfocused as she looks back through her memories. “As such, I was forbidden from returning until we were certain it had passed.”

I remember the parade that welcomed her back, but I didn’t realize she’d been gone that long. It’s been less than a year: she must be so busy, trying to pull Vesuvia together again. No wonder the search for her husband’s murderer hadn’t been her top priority until now. “I’m sorry.”

She tilts her head, looking at me. “Understand this, Reyja: if the Plague has not truly left the city, and what you and dear Portia discovered today is proof of that, then the search for Doctor Devorak must be set aside. I am eager to see justice done, but one man’s life, when weighed against the lives of thousands, will not tip the scales. I hope I may rely upon your services regardless of that outcome.”

Her visit to the shop feels very far away. I’m attached to this now, however big it gets. “I’ll be here.”

“Thank you. I have sent Yazakh to fetch an expert on the Plague from their estate. I hope they will return soon, but in the meantime, I urge you to rest. We may have much to consider in the coming days.”

I take a small pastry with me when I leave the table and make my way back to my room. I don’t doubt that she’s right, but even with this additional set of problems, I can’t keep my mind away from Julian. Thoughts of him cloud my head as I lay down for a nap and they’re still there when I wake up. My stomach isn’t happy with me, swirling with guilt and humiliation and anxiety, but I don’t know what to do about it.

The expert still hasn’t arrived when I go up to Lucio’s suite to check. I pass the library on the way back and my fingers fly to the silver moon pendant still around my neck, following the divot Julian’s own nerves wore in the metal. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to look through his notes while I wait, if I can concentrate enough to get anything useful out of them.

I can’t.

When the sun sets again, I give up. Another day gone, and I’ve only discovered more things to do. I need something to focus on, something with a solution, something… something that might distract me from the fact that I’m no closer to clearing Julian’s name.

I can follow that water, if nothing else. I don’t know where it’s coming from, but maybe I can learn where it’s going. And I can get out of the palace, maybe work off some of this nervous energy. And I won’t be surrounded by pieces of him, distracting me from my mission. It’ll be perfect.

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

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[thepixelmoon]

Perseus - The beginning of the end

Another Andromeda Six drabble featuring one of my travellers, Perseus Peg’asi, the day everything changed. 

Disclaimer: The A6 crew, Vexx, Nerissa and the rest of the Peg’asi royal family all belong to @andromeda-six and Perseus is an original character created by me.

Warning: angst, guns, violence, gunshot wounds (not graphic), mentions of death. 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

With a frown, Perseus looks in the mirror and adjusts his ceremony attire, smoothing down any visible wrinkles in the dark blue fabric. His scarred face stares back at him in silent reproach, and he does his best to ignore it as he steps away.

Sorenn is getting married today. It is supposed to be a day full of happiness and cheer, bright smiles and nice food. Perseus is expected to be there for a change, but he’s decided he has other plans.

Vexx has been gone for a while, and nobody’s bothered to give Perseus a plausible reason for his disappearance. Perhaps he’s been transferred, they said. Maybe he got fired, others commented. But none of that feels right; he’s the closest thing Perseus has to a friend, and he refuses to believe Vexx would just leave without a word. He’s determined to find him, and this is probably the only chance he’s going to get in god knows how long.

As he determinedly makes his way towards one of the many passages that lead out of the palace, he checks that the hallways are empty before venturing further. So far he’s been lucky, but as far as luck is concerned, he knows it isn’t bound to last long.

“Perseus?” Nerissa’s voice snaps him out of his calculations as he’s getting ready to cross the corridor towards the big portrait of one of their ancestors.

He calmly stops in his tracks, his jaw tightening.

“Sister,” he turns to her, offering a small nod.

“What are you doing over here? The ceremony is about to start,” she asks, then glances over at the portrait painting. “Oh.”

She knows.

He follows her glance, then looks back at her to hold her gaze.

“I have to find him.” He straightens up, squaring his shoulders. “He can’t have just vanished. He has to be somewhere.”

Nerissa’s frown softens into a sad smile that almost makes Perseus recoil in anger.

It’s full of pity.

“Does it have to be today?” she simply asks, making no attempt at stopping him. “Sorenn is excited to have you there. You’re his little brother.”

“Funny how I’m his little brother today, and not for the past twenty-three years of my life.” He gives a bitter laugh, the repressed anger slowly bubbling up inside him. “Where was he the day our dearest father almost cut my bloody face in half? Where were Auberon and Ecko, Noa, or Elettra? Apart from you, where was everybody?” his voice keeps rising with each question, echoing off the walls.

Nerissa doesn’t flinch, though. She’s practically raised Perseus, since their parents seemed to often forget he even existed, as did most of their siblings. She knows him too well to be scared in the face of one of his outbursts, and it’s also because of it that she knows it’s pointless to try to convince him to stay.

“Perseus, I—”

“Save it. Don’t try to excuse them. Don’t excuse him,” he snarls through clenched teeth. It’s pretty obvious who he’s referring to.

With a tentative hand, Nerissa reaches into her pocket and produces a small, shiny silver ball that she places on Perseus’ hand before he has a chance to withdraw it. He eyes it with a frown.

“Why are you giving me the music box?”

“I know it was my gift for your eighteenth birthday, but if you’re doing to leave, I want you to have it. I want you to remember this, remember me, in case something happens.”

Perseus’ frown deepens.

“Why would anything happen? I’m just going to find Vexx, and then I’ll return.”

Nerissa smiles and shakes her head, closing his hand around the kitalphanite music box.

“Just keep it, will you?” she insists. “Please.”

There’s something in her eyes he cannot quite place, something that hadn’t been there before. A shadow, a sort of dread and sadness that make his skin crawl. Unwilling to give it any more thought, he slips the music box into his pocket and gives his sister a firm nod.

“I’ll… see you soon.” His voice almost breaks. Almost. “Don’t tell anyone about this.”

She just nods in reply and places her hand on his cheek, gently swiping her thumb across it. The touch is gone in an instant, though, as Perseus quickly steps away and covers his head with a hood. He disappears into the shadows of the passage behind the portrait without a last glance or word, his scar throbbing with pain.

He’s about to reach the bridge that separates the Gold and Silver Districts when it happens.

The ground shakes and rumbles beneath his feet, the sudden echo of an explosion resounding through the city. When Perseus whips around to locate the source of the noise, his breath dies in his throat.

Half of the palace has been blown up and the other half is almost completely engulfed in flames; the windows shattered, the walls collapsed, the trees in the gardens uprooted.

A string of ear-splitting screams reaches Perseus’ ears as the people around him realise what just happened. Some run past screaming, dragging little children behind them, while others stand and stare in horror at the enormous chaos unfurling before their very eyes.

The sound of gunshots is what snaps Perseus out of his shocked trance. Masked strangers in all-black uniforms are opening fire against all the Orsanna Guard officers they come across, as well as any civilians nearby. Bodies fall limp to the ground and Perseus doesn’t think twice before making a run for it—he can’t go back to the palace, so he rushes to the bridge, dodging a few bullets as he goes.

Grenades fly into the buildings and houses, many of them blowing up at the same time. Perseus’ ears are ringing heavily as he tries to find some cover to avoid getting crushed by the debris. He jumps over a fallen tree trunk and sprints towards the bridge, breath coming out in short gasps, until something makes him stop.

In the midst of all the chaos, a child is crying helplessly, clutching her mother’s dead body. She can’t be older than four or five.

“Mum! Mummy, wake up!” she calls, gently shaking her mother.

Those who are still alive or not badly injured are heading for the bridge, paying no mind to the poor child. Perseus’ heart seizes in his chest as he spots one of the masked attackers pointing their gun at the little girl from the other side of the street, and before he knows it he’s grabbing a brick and tossing it at their head. It smacks them right in the face and they fall backwards, their gun slipping from their hands.

Perseus wastes no time. He crosses the street, scoops the little girl up into his arms and takes the attacker’s gun.

“No! No! Mummy!” she screams, tears sliding down her face as they leave the body behind. “Let me go!”

“We have to go!” Perseus replies, running as fast as his legs can manage.

He doesn’t recognise his own voice. He hasn’t sounded so terrified before.

The bridge eventually comes into view. By the time they reach it, the little girl is clinging to his neck like a lifeline, but Perseus manages to set her down on the ground.

“You have to run now, as fast as you can, and don’t look back,” he tells her, breathless. “No matter what, don’t look back, understood? Go somewhere safe, and—agh!”

A searing pain cuts through his left calf, the sound of a gunshot echoing around them. Some stray bullet must have finally hit him. Groaning, he’s forced onto his hands and knees as little spots of light dance in the corners of his eyes.

“Go now!” he screams, reaching out and pushing the little girl into the crowd. “GO!”

Sobbing, the little girl hesitates for a moment, but later does as told and takes off, disappearing into the mass of people crossing the bridge. Perseus focuses on breathing deeply through clenched teeth, gripping the gun tightly in his left hand. If only he could lean on something to get back on his feet…

His vision is starting to become blurry as he drags himself towards the bridge, the concrete burning hot under his fingertips and the smell of dust and gunpowder flooding his senses.

His whole family is dead. Nerissa, his brothers and sisters, the King and Queens. All the officers in Orsanna’s Guard. Vexx, too, probably, if he was still in Silta Vie.

He has nothing left. Literally everything and everyone he thought he had is gone, and he’s lying face down in the concrete with a (probably nasty) bullet wound in his leg.

He’d laugh at the irony of it if he had the strength to do so.

He cries instead. The pain, the loss, the loneliness suddenly weighing down on him are unbearable.

He can’t move; the pain running up his leg is too much. It’s starting to become limp, so he refuses to take a look at it because he knows it’s not looking good.

He remembers the sorrow in Nerissa’s eyes just a few moments prior, the warmth of her hand against his cheek when she stroked it. The fact that that’s the last memory he’ll ever have of his sister is enough to make him scream in agony.

There’s another explosion, a much bigger one, and a lot closer to him. Perseus’ ears start ringing again as pieces of concrete and rubble fly in every direction, barely missing him. The shock wave that comes after is huge, so much that he has to cover his head with his arms to prevent any further damage as his body is rolled backwards against the ruins of a nearby building.

Still unable to hear a thing, Perseus forces his eyes open to see what’s going on.

The bridge has collapsed. The explosion must have been what destroyed it.

Smoke and dust fill his lungs as Perseus tries to draw a breath, causing him to cough and retch. Black spots start to dance in his vision as he leans back against the concrete, his body going limp.

Who would do this?

It’s suddenly really hard to keep his eyes open.

Who would think they have the right to decide who lives and dies?

Darkness envelops him. He feels like he’s a sinking ship in the middle of the sea. He wants to speak, scream, yell. But nothing comes out.

Is this how I’m going to die?

I don’t want to die.

A beat.

“Here! There’s someone here!” a voice calls, far away. “He’s alive!”

[thetypedwriter]

The Ruin of Kings Book Review

The Ruin of Kings Book Review by Jenn Lyons

Boy, oh, boy, was this a wild ride. 

Those of you who have been following me for a while know that I occasionally delve into adult fiction here and there. I mainly stick to my vegetarian course of YA novels, but every once in a while I can’t help but  pick up a slice of bacon, or in this case, an adult fiction book.

Or, even more specifically, I suppose it would be more accurate to say that it’s adult fantasy instead of fiction. High fantasy at that, which is characterized by a whole new world with fantastical elements and not just a novel in the known primary world with fantasy elements.

With that literary lesson out of the way, let me get started. 

The Ruin of Kings by Jenn Lyons came recommended by one of my favorite book bloggers, Paperfury. She counted this as one of her most recent book obsessions she couldn’t stop thinking about and in general I trust her judgement (although she was way way off on The Queen of Nothing, yikes). 

This massive installment is definitely not the short and sweet page length I’m used to with YA, and neither does it have the comforting and large font that makes me feel like an accomplished reader after just an hour of skimming. 

No, this installment is large and beefy and could probably give someone a concussion if you threw it at them, so just keep that in mind. 

The whole fantasy revolves around a boy named Khirin. Khirin is your typical fantasy hero, equipped with the luscious blonde hair and the sparkling blue eyes and most importantly, the wickedly sharp tongue reminiscent of a male character from the Cassandra Clare universe.

He’s sharp, he’s witty, he’s charming, and he also has terrible, terrible luck. 

Or does he?

When you first meet Khirin he is being sold as a slave to the highest bidder. He’s cold, he’s injured, he’s starving, and he’s broken. You, as a reader at this point, are completely and irrevocably confused. 

You’re thinking: Who is this boy? What is happening to him? Why are people betting so much money for him? What’s with this necklace around his neck? Where did he come from? Where are we? What world is this? Where is he going? What the hell is going on???

To say that Lyons starts out strong would be underhanded hyperbole. You are forcibly drop-kicked into the fantasy world of Qurr and its many raging empires and states, and putting them all together is frankly daunting and largely impossible until a good chunk of the book is devoured. 

Frankly, I still have trouble figuring out all the locations and gods and god-kings and factions and lore and people and how they’re all related, Game of Thrones style. But that’s part of the fun. 

One of my biggest complaints with YA is that the reader is generally treated like they’re pretty stupid. 

Often a YA author feels the need to explain every single iteration and modicum of interaction between their characters or spend too much time describing things, and it leaves very little for interpretation or inference on the side of the reader. Lyons is almost the complete opposite, which is as refreshing as it is frustrating.

As you are introduced to Khirin and this gargantuan universe that Lyons has created, you will feel stupid. To be fair, I enjoyed it most of the time. I relished the challenge of learning to differentiate all the different families of the Court of Gems, of distinguishing the Goddess Thaena from the Goddess Tya.

I liked when I was finally able to smugly look at the map at the beginning and recognize all of the city states like Doltar or Kirpis or Manol. I liked when I understood the different races like the Thriss or the vané and the implications of what that meant. 

If that was a whole load of word vomit for you, that’s okay. 

Again, it’s part of the fun. 

What I do want you to get out of this, however, is the knowledge that Lyons has created an expansive universe with multiple creatures, including dragons and witches, rivaling royal families, gods reminiscent of the Greek Gods and their interference with human affairs, a rivaling world split with so many seams that you’re not even sure who to root for, an emperor, magical jewelry, demons and even a dose of piracy and musical competition. 

This book honestly has a little of everything — which, to be fair, it should, considering how damn long it takes to get through it’s never-ending pages. 

To make this as simplified as possible, the plot goes like this:

Khirin is sold into slavery and finds himself in the hands of a group called the Black Brotherhood. Over time, Khirin learns about this group and their intentions, learns more about himself and the Stone of Shackles (the necklace he wears around his neck), divulges his past and how he got sold into slavery in the first place-his upbringing, his musical talent, his stay at the Blue Palace, his eventual betrayal at the hands of someone he loves. 

You learn over the course of each chapter what brought Khirin to his current fate and more of what he is trying to do now,: which is to return home and save the world from the likes of the two main antagonists (although not all of them by any means), Gadrith and Darzin.

I’m not exaggerating when I say that is the most bare- bones summary I have ever written. But honestly, this book is about a hero named Khirin and his adventure to rid the world of evil as he learns about himself and his past. 

Like many, many, other books before it, this book explores what it means to be a hero, what it means to be a god, what it means to be involved with the fight of good vs. evil. This book is not special in that sense regarding these themes. 

However, there are some really cool aspects of this novel that I thoroughly enjoyed that I’ll relay now that the summary (as condensed as it is, sorry) is out of the way. 

The two things I enjoyed most about this book were the writing itself and the POV. Most high fantasy novels that I’ve attempted to read have this ridiculous notion that every character must speak in some dead medieval language rife with historical inaccuracies and banal, clipped speech. Lyons does nothing of the sort.

 Her characters are creative and crass and downright funny. The dialogue is immersive and natural and oftentimes, other than the backdrop of a dragon or lizard-people, it felt like two modern-day people were having a conversation, which I greatly appreciated. 

Lyons is also a very big fan of building up her writing and then smacking you down at the pinnacle. For example:

“Before us lay the Mother of Trees.

I didn’t understand what I was seeing. I couldn’t comprehend. It just seemed like a humongous wall at first, one that had been built up with palaces and verandas, graceful pavilions, and stained-glass windows glittering like jewels. Only when I looked up could I perceive the sweep of branches, the distance velvet of green leaves. This was a tree to hold up the whole world, the sort of place where Galava must live, if any place were consecrated to her. It seemed ageless and immortal, a tree that had always and would always exist. 

Naturally, we were setting it on fire.”

I personally found this style of writing hilarious. Lyons often built up the tension, beauty, or conflict, and then would deliver these one-liners that would leave me gasping with laughter. This creative juxtaposition was super enjoyable and one that made the book a big success for me. 

Secondly, while this book is told almost entirely (keyword almost -there are some outlier chapters) from Khirin’s perspective, it technically oscillates between present Khirin and past Khirin. 

The whole book switches from one timeline to another every other chapter, with the chapter starting with Khirin being sold into slavery being the “present” and told from Khirin’s first-person POV and then switching the next chapter to his “past” and being told from Khirin’s third-person POV. 

I loved this. I thought this was so creative, and up to this point, I have never seen this done in another book. The subtle shift from first to third person every chapter, but still from the perspective of the same character, was so interesting and complex. 

I loved that we were simultaneously getting current-day Khirin, but also Khirin from two years ago telling us the events that led up to the present. It was imaginative and intriguing, and I loved trying to fill in the holes before the book presented me with it (which even then was difficult). 

In addition, throughout the whole book are also footnotes from another crucial character that offer information, clarification, and also humor. While I’ve primarily read footnotes in academic papers to cite sources or offer commentary, these footnotes were just as fictional as the rest of the story, but offered insight outside of Khirin that was often dripping in sarcasm, irony, or humor.

 I thought it was another really creative way for Lyons to get across information without boring everyone half to death or releasing a 100- page guidebook to help you along. 

Bottom line, people,: This book isn’t for everyone. High fantasy in general is not for everyone. That’s okay. It’s not usually my taste either, at least not the adult fictional kind, but something about this book really intrigued me. 

Moreso than the actual plot, which is confusing, I enjoyed the writing, the suspense, and the act of playing detective. It’s been so long since I’ve read a book that’s made me think this hard, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. That being said, the same praise is a double-edged sword. 

If you don’t want to have to think and draw out charts and make graphs on Excel, then perhaps this is not the book for you. 

If you don’t like high fantasy or made-up worlds, or very interconnected family dynamics, then this is not the book for you. This book also contains elements that can be triggering to some, like rape, drugs, character death, violence, imprisonment, slavery, etc.

When I say this book has everything, I mean it has everything. And that can be good or bad depending on the person. For me, I liked it. However, I did get frustrated at certain points at the lack of clarification more than once, just for full disclosure. 

Recommendation: If you’ve been bereft ever since the Game of Thrones disaster-of-a-finale, then you are not alone. The Ruin of Kings has everything you’ve ever wanted in a high fantasy book: action, kings, queens, palaces, war, dragons, magic and so much more. 

This book was creative and funny and complex, and if you’re willing to sink your teeth and time into a universe that demands attention then you’ll find yourself rewarded with a brand-new world to fall in love with and characters that you can’t seem to forget.

Score: 8/10

[razieltwelve]

The Desert Rose (RWBY AU Snippet)

Note: This goes with Dragon and The Queen of Winter.

X     X     X

In the Old Days before the sky broke and the Grimm came and all the gods fled, Vacuo was the jewel of the world. It was a kingdom of verdant forests and clear rivers, a place where each harvest was more bountiful than the last. Lumbering tree-folk tended to ancient groves, and fields of flowers in full bloom filled the world with scent and colour.

And then the Grimm came.

For a time, the magic of the dragon kings of old kept them at bay, but the dragons were all gone, and their magic was fading. Like a blighted tide washing against a gilded shore, the Grimm turned Vacuo from a place of wonder into a place of desolation and despair.

The thriving forests withered and died, and the tree-folk and their ancient groves rotted and fell. The rich soil was turned to desert sand, and where clear, swift rivers had once flowed, only parched, bare earth remained. The people were scattered to the winds, left to wander the ruins of their fallen kingdom until there were none living who could remember the sight or smell of flowers in full bloom.

X     X     X

Ruby dreamed of the scent of flowers and the feel of thick grass beneath her claws. She dreamed of thriving orchards and towering trees as old as the heavens. She dreamed of wings wide enough to shelter a kingdom and fire that brought life as well as death.

But she also dreamed of a desert with no end and of footprints in the sand vanishing into the distance, walking toward a horizon they could never reach.

X     X     X

When Ruby was five, she dreamed of the desert and of how two sets of footprints in the sand became one. She asked her mother about the dream, and her mother smiled and held her hand very tightly as they fought to walk along the top of a sand dune against the tearing wind.

“It’s because when you are weak, dear Ruby, I will carry you.”

“Because you’re my mother?” Ruby asked.

And Summer’s smile was bright enough to hide how thin she was and how the shadow of old pain so often haunted her eyes. “Yes, because I am your mother, and you are my Ruby.”

The sand swirled around them, and Ruby looked off into the distance. There was nothing but more sand and the dead, rotting ruins of titan trees that had once dared to reach for the sky.

X     X     X

When Ruby was six, her mother had to carry her on her back. Food had been even harder to come by than usual, and the oases they’d come to rely on had all run dry. At night, the baying of the Grimm grew closer than ever, and Ruby clung to her mother and dreamed of cool streams of pure water and seeds buried deep beneath the blighted sands.

The next day, they joined a growing group of wanderers.

X     X     X

When Ruby was nine, she dreamed that two sets of footsteps in the sand were joined by many others, and she asked her mother what it meant.

“Look around you,” Summer said as she gestured at the makeshift camp they were in. “Vacuo was mighty once, a place of life and light and joy. Only the desert remains, but Vacuo’s people have not forgotten. That is why we stay here. One day, yes, one day, the dragons will come back, and Vacuo will bloom once more. We are the ones who have never stopped believing.” She held Ruby close. “They say the dragons of old could see the future in their dreams. My father told me once that the blood of dragons flows through our veins, thin though it may be.” She smiled, and her smile was lovely yet bitter. “Perhaps that is why your father and I were drawn together.”

“My father?” Ruby whispered. Her mother did not like to speak of him.

“Yes. He too was supposed to carry the blood of dragons within him, but I could not stay with him. No matter how far I went, I could feel this place calling me back.” Summer closed her eyes, and Ruby could almost hear the whisper of words on the desert wind. “I am meant to be here and so are you, Ruby.”

There were many wanderers in their group, and they moved from place to place, following the ever-dwindling water and tending to their flocks of hardy sheep and tough cattle. And though the desert was bitterly cold at night and searingly hot during the day, those were happy times for Ruby. She and her mother were no longer alone, and there were even other children to play with.

During the day, Ruby would learn from anyone who could teach her. Whether it was how to use a sword or a spear or how to weave and tend livestock, she learned it all. And at night, when the wind howled and sand tore at anything it could reach, she would huddle with the wise old men and women and learn of the Old Days and the magic that still lingered in their blood.

“The dragons are all dead,” the old men and women would say. “But they gave us one last gift. Our magic, such as it is, may only be a shadow of theirs, but it has kept us alive this long.”

With that precious magic, they could find water and grow rare herbs in carefully tended pots. The greatest amongst them could even heal wounds and bring life to withered plants, but there were none who could face the blight that spread the desert ever further.

X     X     X

When Ruby was twelve, she dreamed of that endless desert and the footprints vanishing into the distance. Instead of many sets of footprints, there were only two again. She did not ask her mother about the dream. She had no time. When she woke, it was to panicked screams and the bestial roars of the Grimm.

“Ruby!” her mother cried. “We have to run!”

All around them, the people Ruby had come to know were dying. The wise old men and women were cut down, and the children alongside them. The warriors fought, but they were so badly outnumbered and outmatched. For a moment, Ruby thought of joining them. She could fight, and would it be so bad to die here in defence of those she’d come to love?

But before she could take a step forward, one of the old women stumbled toward her. She was bleeding from a dozen wounds, and her eyes were wild with fear and panic. She grabbed Ruby’s arm and shoved her back.

“Go with your mother, Ruby!” the old woman yelled. “There is nothing more you can do here. Live! Live and remember us! Live and remember all that we have taught you!”

And so Ruby and her mother ran, and though Ruby looked back often, she never saw anyone behind them. For years, she had grown used to seeing other footprints in the sand. Now, like before, she could only see hers and her mother’s.

She would have wept, but she remembered the words of one of the old wise women. 

“Save your tears,” the woman had told her. “The dead have no use for them and the living need more than some weeping girl.”

X     X     X

When Ruby was fourteen, just shy of fifteen, she dreamed of a desert that stretched from horizon to horizon. She saw footprints in the sand, but only one set.

She did not ask her mother about the dream. She already knew what it meant. They had wandered alone since the group had been destroyed. Water and food grew ever harder to find, and her mother always made sure she ate and drank first. Little by little, day by day, Ruby watched her mother wither as Vacuo had withered.

“It is a mother’s joy to look after her child,” Summer murmured, late one night, so thin that Ruby could have lifted her with ease. “As my father did for me, I now do for you. Everything has a price, but I pay it willingly.”

The next morning, Summer could no longer stand. She was too weak.

So Ruby tied her mother onto her back and carried as her mother had once carried her. 

Ruby refused to believe in destiny.

Perhaps her dreams showed her the future, but prophecy, the old wise men and women had taught her, was fraught with peril. Ruby had only seen one set of footprints, so she had put her mother on her back. Others, she knew, would have seen one set of footprints and left her mother behind.

X     X     X

When Ruby was fifteen, she dreamed of a desert without end, but no matter how hard she looked, she could find no footprints in the sand.

For a month, Ruby tended to her mother. She tried to make it work. Oh, how she tried, but there was so little water and so little food. Her stomach ached and her head spun, and there was a part of her that thought of simply leaving her mother behind. One might be able to survive where two could not.

But she did not.

How many times had her mother eaten or drunk less, so she could have more? How many times had her mother carried Ruby on her back, so she could live? The Grimm had taken Vacuo. The Grimm had taken their group. But Ruby would not let them take her mother too.

The end came when they were caught in a sandstorm. As the howling wind and the tearing sand enveloped them, Ruby held her mother and closed her eyes. She thought of flowers in full bloom and a paradise she’d never seen. She whispered the prayer her mother had taught her and waited for the end to come.

X     X     X

My scales are blood And my eyes are the moon My teeth are swords And my claws are spears My blood waters the earth And my breath brings life I was a dragon once And I will be a dragon again

X     X     X

Ruby Rose died, and the desert bloomed.

X     X     X

The whispers spread through the desert as quickly as the wind. The Old City, the fallen capital of Vacuo, had been cleansed of Grimm. The great evil that had lingered there for centuries had been put to flight and then destroyed. But even more astounding was what had happened to the desert.

Around the Old City, there was no desert. The fallen buildings and battered walls were covered in vines. Thick grass carpeted the ground, and towering trees soared toward the sky. The long-dried riverbeds burst their banks with clear, cool water, and the flooded plains were covered in thick, rich soil.

Hoping against all hope, the scattered people of Vacuo made their way to the Old City, and there atop the ruins of the palace, they saw a dragon with scales as red as blood and eyes like the moon.

“Be welcome,” a woman said from beside the dragon, a woman with eyes of the same silver. “For a dragon has come again, and Vacuo blooms once more.”

And from the forest that had sprung up around the Old City came the thunder of titan footsteps. The tree-folk had all fallen to the Grimm, but they had hidden seeds deep within the earth, far below the blighted sands. The dragon’s awakening had called them from the soil, and the tree shepherds walked the world once more.

The people rejoiced and moved into the city. And with each day that passed, the greenery spread. The Grimm came, but they were driven back with great loss. Each breath of the dragon burned the Grimm to ash, yet its silver flame did not burn the people or the harm the plants. Instead, its breath birthed trees and shrubs, and where the dragon walked, the shifting sands gave way to groves and orchards.

One day, people came clad in the symbols of Vacuo’s nobility from the Old Days. They came before the dragon and knelt.

“We are the descents of the Old Guard,” the old man at their head said. “We served the last of the kings of Vacuo, and before he bade us to flee rather than die needlessly against Grimm we could not defeat, he gave us something. We were told to hide it and keep it safe until one worthy of it appeared.”

The old man brought forth a crown of withered branches and dead flowers and held it to up to the dragon.

“They called this the Crown of Roses, for always did flowers bloom in the Old Days before Vacuo fell and the Grimm came. But it withered as Vacuo withered. Even so, we would offer it to you now, for it was the crown of the kings and queens of old.”

The dragon changed and became a girl with dark hair and silver eyes. She was garbed in a red mantle, and each time her bare feet touched the earth, flowers bloomed and the trees swayed and reached toward her. She took the withered crown, and the old, dead branches turned green once more, and the dead flowers became roses as red as her mantle.

“It has been an age since the people of Vacuo have had a king or a queen,” the old man said. “But we are yours to rule if you wish it.”

And Ruby, with eyes older than they should be, thought back to the dream she’d had before she became a dragon, to the desert without footprints in the sand. “I dreamed once of a desert without end, and no matter how hard I looked, I could find no footprints in the sand. I thought it meant the end of all things, but I was wrong.” She settled the crown upon her head, and though she wore the shape of a girl, the soul of a dragon blazed forth from within her. “There were no footprints in the sand because why should a dragon’s people walk when she can carry them through the skies on her back?” She smiled. “I will be your queen if that is your wish.”

It was, and her people called her the Desert Rose. Of all the flowers that bloomed when she walked, it was the roses that were the most beautiful, and the scent of them reminded people of a dream long lost but found at last.

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Ruby is a very different sort of dragon from Yang. If Yang is the fury of the dawn made manifest, then Ruby is the breath of spring, the promise of a better tomorrow, made real. Thematically, she is also the opposite of Weiss. Where Weiss goes, winter follows. Frost and ice are her weapons. Where Ruby goes, life follows. Her silver fire can heal and bring life as easily as it can kill. The footprints motif in this chapter is based on the famous poem.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

You can find my original fiction on Amazon here. In fact, I’ve just released a new story, Attempted Adventuring. If you like humour, action, and adventure, be sure to check it out.

[realityhelixcreates]

Beta Theta and Me Chapter 6: Land of Inequality

Chapters: 6/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Avengers (Movies) Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG

Warnings: Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not right now), 

Characters: Loki(Marvel) Additional Tags:  A/B/O, Sorta, More Of An Exploration Of Life And Self Expression Within An A/B/O Framework, Loki Does What He Wants, But Loki Does Not Actually Do What He Wants, Antagonistic Bosses, Loki Has A Throne Now, But It’s Not What He Wanted

Summary:  You and Loki discuss what brought you to your current situation. Promises are made, but they are not fully understood.

Your egg sandwiches seemed to pass Loki's test, as he didn't complain once throughout breakfast. He granted you permission to use the washing machine, and put you to work in what you felt would become your new routine. Dishes needed to be done, sweeping and vacuuming, basic home maintenance. He even bid you do his laundry, since it seemed that, even though he could change his clothes magically, cleaning them with magic would cost him too much energy.

Now that you understood, you'd try not to make him use magic too much. Not until he'd healed. You weren't willing to, as he had put it, wipe his royal ass, but you could do laundry. It was easy.

After cleaning the restroom, you returned to him for more orders, finding him next to the big fireplace again, reading his book. You still couldn't make out the writing; it was in an unfamiliar language, but it used a human alphabet.

“What are you reading, anyway?” You asked, craning your neck to try and read the spine.

“Over de Zich Uitbreidende Menselijke Wereld en de Vervanging Van het Spirituele Door het Materiële, wat Leidt tot het Verlies van het Zelf en tot Slavernij aan het Kapitaal.” He answered easily.

“Uh...”

“It's a text about the surrendering of the self to ever emptier pursuits, until every institution is given over to the production of capital for ruling elite, leaving every aspect of life nothing more than a shell.”

“Oh.”

You stood awkwardly for a few moments.

“You are still standing here?” Loki asked.

“I finished the bathroom.” You said. “I just needed to know what to do next.”

Loki sighed. “Can you not think for yourself? Perhaps I should make a checklist for you to consult, so you do not have to interrupt me at every turn. But for now...” He gestured to the carpet next to him. “Sit here.”

You did, though you couldn't fathom why he wanted you to.

“Now...Hmmm. Sing.” He commanded.

“What?”

“Sing. Humans have songs, do they not? Sing one.”

“But...” What song? Of all the millions of songs, which one would be appropriate to sing in the presence of an alien prince? And it wasn't as if you were a musician; you had no training, no practice.

You thought back to the music your parents used to listen to, that you listened to with them when you were a kid. Protest songs from the time of the Civil Rights movement, anti-war songs, hippie songs. You knew those by heart, even now. So you picked one that had a lovely melody and many simple verses, and began to sing.

He let you go all the way through it twice before stopping you, and he at least didn't insult your untrained voice, or seem to hate the song. He had closed his book, and closed his eyes, but now he reached down to gently fondle your makeshift scarf.

“An unapproved uniform change?” He asked.

“It's only temporary.” You said.

“It almost wasn't.” He rejoined. You both went quiet. The fire crackled in its gigantic hearth. Even though it was still daylight out, Loki had had you draw those thick blackout curtains, plunging this little section of the building into artificial twilight. The fire lit the area instead, lit Loki's book, lit his nearly inscrutable face. It was cozy, and you wondered if it reminded him of someplace he used to spend his time. A roaring fireplace, in a palace, somewhere in Asgard? His private room? A favorite lodging, somewhere in the Asgardian countryside?

You had no idea what Asgard had been like. You couldn't help but to picture equal parts rugged and sophisticated: Monumental architecture, and wide wilderness. Loki in the middle of it all, sitting in front of a fire, reading an overly complicated book.

“What do my hands look like to you?” He asked abruptly. You paused for a moment. “If you simply say 'hands', I will be cross.”

He held one hand out to you, for observation. You didn't know what he was going for, but you took his hand and studied it closely. Long fingers. Healthy skin, though extremely pale, still somehow you couldn't see the veins through it like you would have expected. Perfectly manicured nails. Little scars, and calluses here and there. A contradiction.

“They seem...Deft. Like someone who needs a lot of dexterity to do their thing, like a pianist. They've got the signs of being pampered, but they also show evidence of hard work.”

“Is that all?” He pressed. “Not drenched with the red of life? Not grasping? Not clutching, or corpse-fed, or wielding the hidden blade?”

“Um...Not really?” You said. “Were you looking for metaphor? I was just observing what was physically there.”

“My fingerprints are imprinted onto your throat!” He said heatedly. “How can you look upon these hands and not think of the merciless grip of a conqueror?”

“Dude, look. When I was out there, do you know how people treated me? I was kicked. I was shoved. People slapped me, spat on me, threw things at me. Mugged me, pulled my hair, full on tried to kidnap me into human trafficking once. What you did to me was bad; but you didn't do it on purpose. You aren't the first person to leave bruises on me.” You tightened your hold on his hands. “But you are the first to seem like you care.”

His expression went opaque again.

“You need not worry about that.” He said dismissively. “You are my retainer. My maid, my chef, my...everything else. No one shall harm you, for I am your ultimate authority, and they will have to go through me first.”

He flicked his hand, and a knife appeared. You jerked back, startled.

“I always wield the hidden blade.”

You swallowed. It made the bruises on your neck ache.

“Where were you?” He asked. “While I was in the sky, laying waste to your homeland, where were you?”

“Loki, are you sure you want to...” He seemed determined to talk about uncomfortable subjects. Maybe he just wanted to get them out of the way quickly.

“Dodging falling rubble and laser blasts?” He pressed on. “Trapped inside a ruined building? Chased by a Chitauri death squad?”

“No, no. I was underground.” You said. He seemed to be imagining it all as he said it, his expression growing sour. “I wasn't homeless then, but I was in the subway tunnels, heading to Central Park before work. Your soldiers never got down there so the drivers started taking whichever routes took them farthest from the city center. I wasn't hurt at all.”

“No? But your place of employment was? Your home?”

“Well, not really. There was some damage, but nothing that couldn't be fixed.”

“Where did you work?”

“Oh...just a bodega...you wouldn't know it.” You didn't like where this was going. It only led to bad memories.

“Then I am not the cause of your homelessness?” He sounded mildly disbelieving. You scoffed.

“Believe it or not, you actually aren't the cause of every misfortune in New York.”

“Then what happened? What is the chain of events that brought you to me?”

“Eh...that's mostly Mr. Stark's doing, you know?”

“You are deflecting. I am more than an expert in such things, I can tell. Why are you here, and no longer a bodegrkonur? If not myself, then what caused you this misfortune?”

“What does it matter? I'm here now.”

“And here you shall stay. But it matters because I asked you.”

“Geez, all right, it's just a boring story about petty bullshit, and I don't like thinking about it. My old roommate was an Omega, and her dad ran the shop, so we both worked there. Then she got herself hooked up with an Alpha, and he was an aggressive, controlling prick who wanted to cut her off from everyone else, so he kicked me out without letting me find another place first, and intimidated her dad into firing me. Didn't even let me get any of my stuff. I haven't heard from her since. I don't know if she's okay, I don't even know if she's still alive. And I don't want to try to contact her dad, because I don't want to cause trouble for her family. Dude was unhinged, seriously.”

“That is...Distressing.” He said.

“It's not uncommon. Alphas run the show, and they're never held accountable, so this shit happens sometimes. Anyway, you happy? You like the answer? It wasn't you, it was some other overbearing douche. Hooray.”

“No, that does not please me at all.” He said, in response to your bitterness. “I cannot help but to think of how this situation could be improved. Or at least mitigated. If I were in charge...Oh come now, do not look at me like that.” He said defensively at your side-eyed glance. “I was raised to rule, and cannot help but to think like this.”

“Is that what you're gonna do when your neck heals?” You asked. “Go back to Nova Scotia and help Thor with New Asgard?”

“Possibly.” He said. “Probably. My esteemed brother does want me to, but it might not be allowed. The land was bestowed on us in exchange for several promises from us, but the Canadian government hasn't decided what to do with me. For now, I am not allowed there unless incarcerated. They are taking the period of my convalescence as time to deliberate.”

Someday he would be healed, and he would go home. Well, to his new home anyway. What awaited him there? Jail? Or perhaps a high office, with a whole array of actually competent servants. One to cook, one to sing, one to clean, one to warm up his bed. Whatever he might need, there would be someone to do it. Heck, he was a prince no matter what; he might be stuck in a dungeon and still have all that help.

And you? After Loki healed and went wherever he was going to go, you would...do something. Could you put something like 'personal help to royalty' on your resume, if no one was supposed to know he was here? Surely his presence couldn't be kept secret forever.

Beyond that, there was the Stark name that you could plaster everywhere. He might not even dismiss you after Loki left, he might just send you to another section of the company, to clean up whatever messes might be there. You were finding that you didn't mind cleaning. There was a satisfaction in seeing it all come together, seeing actual progress. It was the disrespect heaped on the so-called 'servant class', the perception of being lesser, even if the whole world would fall apart without them.

“Are you shocked speechless, feral thing, or simply too far away?” Loki asked, and you realized he'd been talking while you had ruminated.

“Far away.” You admitted. “Sorry.”

“I asked if you would come with me. Tidy up my jail cell, bring me my prisoners meals. Polish my chains. It might make the whole dreary thing worthwhile.”

“You sound pretty sure that you're going to prison.”

“Am I not already in one? My recent life has been little more than one type of prison after another. Your philosopher Foucault seemed to grasp the concept.” He gestured a series of hardback books on the shelf, each in French. “That every social construct is a prison of our own making and maintenance. Even a being such as myself must exist in relation to these constructs, either within or against, but never free from.

And you, little thing, exist in relation to me now. You can continue to do that, if you wish, wherever I am bound.”

“What if you don't go to prison though? If your brother gets his way, and you get to be his right hand guy? Won't you have enough servants then? “

“Oh, there is always room for more.” Loki assured. “Worry not, anxious thing. There would be a place for you.”

“Not sure I want that.” You said. “I've only had this job for two days. I only had my prior job for a week. I want a little stability before I agree to go anywhere else.”

“A prison and a facade.” He pointed out.

“But it's mine to choose.” You replied.

He nodded sagely. You got the feeling that he knew that sentiment well.