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spine-buster · 4 years ago

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The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 20

A/N: Remember to like, reblog, yell in the tags, and support your friendly neighbourhood fic writers. We appreciate it more than you think! And thanks for all the positive feedback on my double post last week! This chapter focuses more on Aberdeen and Siena’s sisterhood. Hope you enjoy!

February 15th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was in a taxi.

With the Canadian Tire Centre being in Kanata, Aberdeen needed a taxi to get into downtown Ottawa, and judging by what Siena told her about the bus, she wasn’t going to trust it to take her there. They were meeting at Chez Lucien, a gastro bar in the ByWard Market that Siena apparently frequented a lot with her law school friends. Aberdeen had come to visit Siena in Ottawa a few times since she began law school, and every time Siena took her to a different place. It was nice, because she got to see more of what Ottawa had to offer, and what Siena’s life was like here as opposed to in Toronto, but a part of Aberdeen wished they had a ‘spot’.

Siena had been waiting, as she was able to walk to Chez Lucien from where she lived near campus. Aberdeen was kicking the snow off her boots and unwrapping all her layers at the door as she watched Siena scroll through her phone in a booth in the middle of the room. The restaurant was pretty busy with the lunch time crowd, and the food already smelled delicious. “How do you deal with all this snow?” she asked as she approached the table.

Siena shrugged. “You get used to it, I guess. Did you get here okay?”

Aberdeen nodded as she slipped into the booth. “It’s quite the trek, though. Make sure you leave early tonight.”

“I don’t think it would matter if I missed the first five minutes,” Siena said.

Aberdeen noticed a certain tone in Siena’s voice that made her realize this wasn’t going to be a nice, relaxing lunch with her older sister. For how close they were and for how much Aberdeen loved Siena with every fibre of her being, Siena…could be a bitch sometimes. It was usually drama with friends that did it, or bad grades – Siena hated getting bad grades. She couldn’t compartmentalize her anger like Aberdeen could. Siena couldn’t leave her anger at school and be happy while out with someone else. She brought that anger with her and, while she hid it better in front of friends, she didn’t hide it in front of Aberdeen, meaning Aberdeen usually got the brunt end of it. “Probably not, but MLSE comped the ticket, so it would be nice if you showed up on time.”

“The burgers are really good here,” Siena said, dropping it.

Aberdeen opened the menu and looking at the list of burgers. “So what is it? A bad mark? Professor piss you off?” she asked without looking up from the menu.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Now what do you want?”

The conversation flowed uncomfortably. There were a few awkward pauses, which was unusual for the sisters, and though the food was good, Aberdeen could tell Siena wasn’t really all there. There was something else occupying her mind that wasn’t allowing her to be fully present with Aberdeen. Aberdeen wasn’t necessarily pissed off, because she certainly went through her moods too, but Siena wasn’t even trying to make an effort. Aberdeen decided not to say anything. It was for the best.

“So you look different,” Siena said, picking at the last of her fries and ketchup.

“I do?” Aberdeen asked. “How so?”

“I don’t know,” Siena shrugged. “Your hair’s a bit different.”

“Well, I attempted a blowout, but you know how that goes with me.”

“Does William like it when your hair is straight as opposed to your frizzy curls?” Siena asked, popping a fry into her mouth.

Aberdeen furrowed her brows. “Who cares what William likes?” Aberdeen asked. “I sure as hell don’t.”

“You don’t?”

“Siena, come on. When have I ever changed myself for a guy?” Aberdeen asked. She didn’t have a history of it at all, so she didn’t know why Siena would imply such a thing. “I know that William and I are in this weird little…I don’t know, dance, but that doesn’t mean I’m changing myself so he’ll like me more or whatever.” Aberdeen knew she didn’t have to. She knew that William liked her – loved her – just as she was. He’d never asked her to change anything about herself, and actually got mad when Saylor made that off-handed comment about her nose.

“Are you sneaking around with him?” Siena asked suddenly.

Aberdeen was taken aback by the question. She furrowed her brows and dropped her jaw, offended. “What?! NO!” she exclaimed. She scared herself for how easily and emphatically she had just lied to her sister.

“Are you lying to me?” Siena asked.

“Why would you even think that?” Aberdeen pressed. “What the hell, Siena? Do you honestly think I would jeopardize my job like that? The job I work so hard in? The job that might lead me to do what I actually want to do? You honestly think I’d burn this bridge?”

“I don’t know. You’ve done stupid shit in the past, Aberdeen.”

Aberdeen felt tears well in her eyes. She always knew Siena could be a bitch when she wanted to, but right now, she was being just downright mean. It was hard not to take it personally. “Wow. Thanks Siena.”

“I’m just stating the obvious.”

“I love the faith you have in me.”

“It’s not that I don’t have faith in you,” Siena said. “I just saw the way you looked at him on Christmas when he showed up. And more importantly, I saw the way he looked at you. And I know – or I at least have a feeling – that you wouldn’t be able to resist him if he actually came on to you.”

“That’s a bit rich coming from the girl who told us to sneak up to our room alone after watching an episode Brooklyn 9-9.”

“Don’t deflect this and put this on me, Aberdeen,” Siena narrowed her eyes. “You’re the vulnerable one in this situation when it comes to him. I mean you’ve already slept together. You slept together after knowing each other for what? A few hours? I mean, if you’d had the decency to wait, you wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.”

Aberdeen’s eyes stung from trying to hold back her tears. She couldn’t even look at her sister. Instead, she focused on her hands in her lap, twiddling nervously with the ring William got her. “Are you done?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly. “I mean it, are you done?”

“Aberdeen—”

“Is this why you asked me to lunch? So you could make me feel like complete shit?” Aberdeen asked indignantly.

“You’re choosing to feel that way. I’m not making you.”

Aberdeen pushed her chair back dramatically. She refused to participate in this conversation anymore. Actually, it wasn’t even a conversation – it was a sabotage. She snatched her purse off the back of her chair and grabbed her coat and scarf before walking away from the table, not even caring that she was walking out on her sister and sticking her with both bills. By the time she had reached the door, throwing her jacket over her shoulders and wrapping her scarf around her neck, there were already tears falling.

She walked up the street, not even knowing where she was going and where she was going to end up, and she didn’t bother taking her phone out to check. Instead, she cried. She cried about the things her sister said to her. She cried about how she lied to her sister. But more than anything, she cried about how awful she felt, how it felt like her heart was in the pit of her stomach, how her mind was racing about what she was doing with William and how wrong it was but how happy she was when she was with him. She was so conflicted. She was being pulled in opposite directions; quartered in the town square for everyone to see for the sins she was committing.

Aberdeen knew she fucked up. She knew. She knew the moment William stepped into that elevator and shook her hand. She didn’t need anybody to tell her that, or to remind her of the mistakes she’d made. But she didn’t have regrets. Maybe she should, but she didn’t. She loved William. She wasn’t supposed to, but she did. She knew they would be able to keep this a secret; she had faith that it wouldn’t affect her future career prospects. She had to have faith, because if she didn’t, it was all for naught. If she didn’t have faith, then she really was stupid.

People stared at her as she walked down the street crying, her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. She barely wiped her tears away, wearing them with pride instead. They’d freeze to her face eventually, she thought, and then she’d look like an ice queen. Maybe that would be good for her.

Aberdeen continued to weave through the streets – turning right, left right, left, left, right – until she happened upon Notre Dame Cathedral Basilica, the famous Catholic Church in Ottawa. She’d been there before, with her family, when they visited Siena for the first time and Orla dragged everybody there for a Sunday mass. The cathedral was visually stunning, with its neo-Gothic architecture, classic arches, blue ceiling, and stained-glass windows. Weirdly, Aberdeen loved ecclesiastical architecture. It was probably Orla’s influence. Aberdeen always pictured herself getting married in an old church like this, should she ever get married. Whenever she was in a Catholic church, she was reminded of her childhood. Of Orla dragging her and Siena (and when he was born, Camden) to Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Church on Bloor Street West every Sunday. Of her mom kneeling and praying for her family back in Northern Ireland. Of attending catechism classes with her classmates so she could receive the Eucharist and have her confirmation. Of her dad sitting with them and being in church too for all those major milestones even though he had his own faith. In its own weird way, it reminded her of home, of routine. The routine of dipping a finger in holy water and bowing, of finding a pew and kneeling for a quick personal prayer. For standing and singing and kneeling and praying. Kneeling and praying. Kneeling and praying.

So it was no wonder, then, that when she entered the cathedral, despite the tourists that lingered throughout the aisles and alcoves taking pictures and lighting candles, it was so easy for her to find the holy water and bow. It was easy for her to find a pew. It was easy for her to sit, and to look forward at the altar.

It was easy for her to cry.

***

Aberdeen cried out everything she had in her in Notre Dame. It was massively therapeutic. And when she was done, she took a taxi back to the arena.

She’d cried so much that her eyes were still red, that her skin was blotchy even where she was wearing makeup and was very blotchy in the places where the tears had washed her makeup away. She knew she’d probably get asked about it, but she didn’t really care. She wondered if the men she worked with would even notice.

As she walked through the back corridors and into a room, the first person that she saw was Peter. Her body stiffened. She had barely seen him since the All-Star Game – only saw him in passing or from across the arena, really – and she was too scared to ask whether he had switched departments, gotten demoted, or the like. She hadn’t spoken to him since, and her heart beat rapidly in her chest the second his eyes landed on her. He probably still wanted to kill her.

That’s why she was thoroughly shocked when he gave her a large smile.

“How’ve you been?” he asked as he walked towards her.

“How have I been? Where have you been?” she asked back, trying not to freak out. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been so angry. Now he was acting as if nothing was wrong. She thought he’d hate to see her and spit over his shoulder the second he saw her.

“We’re going to need to celebrate,” he said, his voice giddy. “I feel like getting champagne,” he continued, looking around for something to drink. He saw a bunch of Gatorade bottles and handed one to her before taking one for himself.

“Uh…okay,” she played along. The Gatorade would have to do. “What are we toasting?”

“We are toasting, my dear, to the dream job. The one that a million people wanted,” he smiled.

Aberdeen was confused. “Which I got months ago…”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “I’m not talking about you.”

That piqued her interest. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Mhm…go on…”

“Brendan and Kyle invested a lot of time and effort into me. I came on board basically when Kyle did. At the beginning I was doing everything – social media, communications, PR, the works,” he began. “But then there was that opening in hockey operations…and they needed someone they could trust…” he trailed off.

Aberdeen knew about the open job in hockey ops. They’d received numerous applications. The opening was a huge deal and people were clamouring at the opportunity because jobs there didn’t come up often. “Uh huh…”

“And that someone would be me.”

Aberdeen’s jaw dropped. “You got the hockey ops job?!” she screamed.

“YES!” he screamed out loud. His giddy laughter and excited little jumps and jitters told Aberdeen he was more than just happy – he was ecstatic. It was probably a position he wanted more than anything. “Aberdeen, they even put me up for it! I mean can you imagine!”

Aberdeen’s eyes bulged out. That was some interesting bit of news. It meant that Brendan and Kyle knew they were going to promote Peter. But that didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was how ecstatic Peter was and his new position with the Leafs. “But…but you’re leaving. I can’t imagine taking on Brendan and Kyle without you.”

“I know, I know, but I’m so excited though. This is the first time in almost three years I’m going to be able to call the shots in my job! Oh my God!” he shrieked. “I’m going to be able to come to Ottawa, Montreal, New York, Philly, Chicago…and actually be involved in the hockey process.”

He was happy. So incredibly happy. And Aberdeen could only be happy for him. She unscrewed and raised her Gatorade bottle. “Well, congratulations Peter. You deserve it.”

“You bet your ass I do,” he giggled, unscrewing his own Gatorade bottle and crashing it against hers. Aberdeen laughed as they both took their gulps of the drink. “I’m sorry I got mad at you before the All-Star Game,” he said once he was finished drinking. “I was really out of line.”

“It’s alright,” she said. “I knew it meant the world to you.”

“Yeah, but I was really mean,” he said. “I said you didn’t deserve it, but we both know that you did. You’ve been working hard since you got here and I was just…you know, being a dick about it.”

“I’ve had worse things said to me,” she shrugged. An understatement considering where she had just come from. “But thank you for your apology.”

He held his Gatorade bottle up again. “To the Toronto Maple Leafs,” he toasted.

Aberdeen smiled, raising her own bottle. “To the Toronto Maple Leafs.”

***

“So, how was lunch with Siena?” Brendan asked as he went over some last-minute notes before he and Aberdeen would make their way to the press box and meet Kyle for the game. Knowing that Siena was coming to the game tonight to support her sister was nice. Aberdeen made it adamantly clear her sister wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of hockey, but was coming to the game to support her more than anything. That was fine with Brendan.

Aberdeen shrugged her shoulders. She’d hoped Brendan wouldn’t ask about it because she still wasn’t over it. “I ended up going to church.”

He looked at her skeptically. “Church?”

“I got into a fight with my sister,” she explained curtly.

“About what?”

Aberdeen shook her head. Like she was going to tell him. “Not important.”

“Well…what made you go to church?” he pressed. He seemed genuinely concerned about the fact that she’d gone to a house of worship after fighting with her sister. Had it been that bad?

Aberdeen knew he was curious because he was worried, not curious because he wanted to pry. Because of that, she knew she had to choose her words carefully as to not reveal too much but also not reveal too little so that he’d ask more questions. She couldn’t find them. She didn’t know what to say to him without it leading to her giving it all away and getting fired on the spot. “I just needed some semblance of…normalcy back in my life after the fight,” she said, knowing Brendan wouldn’t understand.

“Aberdeen, I have absolutely no clue what that means,” he deadpanned jokingly, causing her to giggle slightly. “But if church helped…well, good,” he said, focusing back on his notes.

Aberdeen nodded. She wanted the topic of conversation to be dropped, and she knew the best way to do that. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

She knew it was going to come out as a statement more than a question. “You and Kyle…you guys knew you were promoting Peter to the hockey ops position.”

“Yes…” He was still looking down at his notes, and he wasn’t sure where she was going with this.

“So why’d you make me tell him about the All-Star Game?”

Brendan stopped focusing on his notes, instead looking at Aberdeen. He knew that she wasn’t accusing him of anything, and not complaining that she had to do what she did; she just wanted answers. Apparently she’d seen Peter. Apparently they’d talked. “So Peter told you we put him up for the hockey ops job, then,” he started.

“He did.”

Brendan nodded his head. “We needed to toughen you up, Aberdeen.”

It was Aberdeen’s turn to look at Brendan skeptically. “Toughen me up?”

“Listen—don’t get me wrong, because you’ve been doing a great job,” Brendan began. “But you…you need to do things that make you uncomfortable, Aberdeen. You know…uh…” he was trying to find the right words. “You know how a glowstick needs to be cracked in order to shine?”

“That’s literally the weirdest analogy I’ve ever heard anyone make,” she said.

“You needed to crack a bit,” he said firmly. “You needed to break someone’s heart. This is a tough business and this is a tough world and it’ll happen to you too. And I want you to be prepared to have to do those sorts of things. Because you’ll be successful once you leave here and you’ll have to do them. You’ll thank me later.”

Judging by his tone, Aberdeen knew Brendan wasn’t going to entertain any other options. She couldn’t say anything to make him think otherwise. “Okay…well, then I think you’ll be happy to know that I broke his heart when I told him he wasn’t going to the All-Star Game. And you and Kyle put it back together by promoting him.”

“I know that,” he said. He looked down at his notes one more time before pushing his chair back. “Now let’s go.”

***

Are they playing well? I wouldn’t know.

Aberdeen stared at the text message from Siena as she sat in the back of the press box, Brendan and Kyle watching the game intently and in full view of the cameras. She was surprised Siena still came after the afternoon they’d had. There was less than five minutes left in the first period, and Auston had already scored. She didn’t know if she should respond. She wondered if that made her a bad sister.

When the buzzer rang for the end of the period, Brendan swiveled in his chair and looked back at her. “Is Siena here?” he asked. Aberdeen nodded her head. “Go find her.”

“But you asked me to—”

“Go find her and go talk to her,” he interrupted, giving her a look. “Go.”

Aberdeen got up from her seat, her credentials jingling down the hallway as she texted Siena back.

Where are you sitting?

They put me six rows behind the Leafs bench. Section 106. Can you come meet me right outside the tunnel?

By the time Aberdeen got there (she speed walked so they had more time together, so what?), Siena was already waiting. When Siena saw her, she stuffed her phone into her pocket. “Were you up in the box?” she asked.

“I always am.”

Siena nodded, staying quiet for a moment. “Listen…I…I’m sorry about today,” she said, stumbling over her words a bit. “I was…my comments were really uncalled for, and I shouldn’t have like, you know, accused you of sleeping with William behind your boss’s back.”

Aberdeen nodded her head once, curtly, to make Siena abundantly clear that she hadn’t forgiven her just yet. Could she forgive her, really, when she was keeping the biggest secret from her? “Do you want to tell me what the little outburst was really about?” she asked.

Siena pursed her lips and crossed her arms across her chest. She looked down at the floor. “It’s nothing.”

“Siena.”

She sighed heavily. “It’s a guy,” she mumbled out.

“What?”

“A guy,” she said dramatically.

Aberdeen’s jaw dropped. “A guy?!” she barely had the words. “What guy? What…what guy?!”

Siena looked like she was about to throw a mini temper tantrum for having to reveal the information. “There was this guy, Aaron…he was just in one of my classes, and we had this…this thing going on for the past few months. Anyways, uh, I found out he was also hooking up with Sylvie the entire time and they’re all Instagram official already.”

“Sylvie?!” Aberdeen deadpanned. “Like…Gatineau Sylvie? Blonde Sylvie? Sylvie who we partied with Sylvie?”

“Yes, that Sylvie,” Siena rolled her eyes. “Knockout Sylvie. Drop dead gorgeous Sylvie. Only in law school so her parents don’t cut her off financially Sylvie.”

Aberdeen furrowed her brows in anger. Sylvie had been so nice when Aberdeen had come to visit last year, and had bought her drinks at the club…and now to hear she’d done this to Siena? And had been doing it for months? Aberdeen was livid. “Well fuck that bitch,” she barked. “And fuck Aaron, too.”

“Now I know how you felt when Zane did that to you,” Siena bit her lip. “But you guys were together for like, a year. Aaron and I were just hooking up.”

“Still,” Aberdeen was still upset. “Fuck that guy. Fuck them both. Fuck them all. He doesn’t deserve you if he’s gonna be sneaking around on you, hooking up with Sylvie and whoever else. You dodged a bullet. You’re too pretty and too smart to be bogged down by such a fuckboy.”

Siena was quiet. Aberdeen tried to figure out whether she was going to cry or roll her eyes, but she couldn’t. With Siena looking at the floor, it was almost impossible. When she finally looked back up, her expression was much more neutral. Gentler. “I wish I had your sense of loyalty, Aberdeen,” Siena said softly. “Really. I do. It’s one of your best qualities. You…you have my back no matter what.”

“Of course I do,” Aberdeen said. “You’re my sister.”

Siena nodded her head. “I know it might not seem like it, especially after the lunch we had, but I always have your back, too,” she said. “I hope you know that. I’d do anything for you.”

Aberdeen was silent as she considered her sister’s words. They fought like any sisters did, but deep know, she knew. Aberdeen knew her sister would do anything for her, and she would do the same. “I know.”

“Can you forgive me for lunch?”

Aberdeen nodded reluctantly. There was nothing to forgive when her sister was right about her assumptions. “I forgive you,” she said. She watched as a bunch of fans made their way through the tunnel and into the arena back to their seats. “Listen, I have to get back. But I’ll meet you after the game, okay? Go to those doors over there,” she pointed behind her to the same doors she came through to meet her.

“Okay. I’ll see you,” Siena nodded, watching as Aberdeen disappeared through the door.

***

William scored in the second period, making Aberdeen convinced he was just trying to show off since he knew Siena was watching. Hell, he could probably see her from the bench. With the Leafs winning 4-2, Aberdeen was happy. But there was barely any time to celebrate. Everybody had to get ready to leave as soon as possible so they could get on the plane and fly to Buffalo.

It was why Aberdeen was dragging Siena through the back corridors eagerly. “Where are you bringing me?” Siena asked.

“You need some eye candy to take your mind off Aaron,” Aberdeen said.

“So you’re bringing me to meet an old man?”

Aberdeen snorted. Brendan was three years younger than their dad. “Not quite.”

As they turned a corner, they came head to head with some of the guys, walking in and out of the locker room, their shirts half buttoned, their ties undone, some of them still in their hockey pants, topless. Siena stopped dead in her tracks. “Aberdeen—”

“—Feast your eyes—"

“—Aberdeen, I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t…oh…oh my,” Siena gasped like an old Southern woman as her eyes landed on a topless Pierre Engvall across the room. “Oh my God you could have told me!” she pinched Aberdeen. “I could have dressed nicer!”

“Hello.” Siena jumped dramatically, turning around to see William behind her. She calmed down when she recognized him. “How are things?” he asked, his voice low so no-one else would hear.

“Fine, thanks,” Siena’s voice was equally as low.

He stood up straight more and extended his hand. “I’m William, it’s nice to meet you. Siena, you said?”

Siena was taken aback for a second before she realized what William was doing. She wasn’t supposed to know who he was. She wasn’t supposed to be familiar with him. “Hi. Y—Yes,” she stuttered out, shaking his hand. “I’m Siena, Aberdeen’s older sister.”

“Hey! Who’s the stranger?” Auston called out from inside the locker room, looking at them standing in the doorway.

“This is my sister, Matthews,” Aberdeen answered, saying it loud enough so the whole locker room would hear.

Most of the guys approached to shake her hand. Jason came up first, then Rasmus, then John and Freddie. Aberdeen didn’t think Siena would get starstruck by hockey players, but she apparently was, stuttering out hellos and pleasant conversations with the men. Aberdeen couldn’t help but giggle. “Jesus, Aberdeen,” Siena whispered eventually when nobody approached them and they were alone. “Are they around like this all the time?”

Aberdeen smiled. “You don’t know the half of it.”

It was at that point that Auston approached them, giving Siena a quick but flirty up-down that Siena didn’t catch but Aberdeen did. “This is your sister?” he asked, extending his hand and getting Siena’s attention.

“Yes, she’s my sister.”

“You guys don’t look like sisters,” he commented.

“I got much more of our dad’s Persian features,” Siena said, shaking his hand. Aberdeen had rolled her eyes – as if she hadn’t heard that comment before about them not looking like sisters. “I’m Siena.”

“Siena. I’m Auston,” he smiled.

Aberdeen rolled her eyes playfully. “Go flirt with Willy, Auston. You didn’t get with Kasha and you’re definitely not getting with my sister.”

Auston furrowed his brows at her playfully. “Get a life, Aberdeen,” he said before sticking his tongue out. “I hope you liked the game,” he said to Siena before walking away.

Siena was about to whisper something to Aberdeen, but then noticed the man from before making his way towards them. Her breath hitched in her throat and her entire body seized up. Aberdeen almost burst out laughing then and there. “Hello. I’m Pierre,” Pierre Engvall extended his hand for Siena to shake. “You’re Aberdeen’s sister?”

Aberdeen had to nudge her sister to get her to respond. She jerked her hand out to shake Pierre’s. “Hi! Yes yes, I’m Aberdeen’s sister, Siena. It’s nice you meet you Pierre.”

“Did you enjoy the game?” he asked.

“Yes. Yes. You guys played so well. I mean I don’t watch hockey much but—”

“Have you been to a game in Toronto?” he asked.

“No—I mean, not yet.”

“Well you should come. I’m sure Aberdeen could get you a ticket,” he smiled.

Before the flirt fest could go on any longer, Rasmus screamed something in Swedish at him, and Pierre laughed. “It was nice to you meet you Siena,” he said before walking away, punching Rasmus on the arm.

Siena looked at Aberdeen. Her eyes practically rolled to the back of her head. “Good God almighty, that man just made me sweat like a whore in church.”

Aberdeen snorted. “Don’t tell that to mom.”

194 notes · View notes

archmage--khadgar · 7 years ago

Note

RIP? (I dont know if i want this, but lets see how dramatic is going to be)

(*SIPS TEA* Very drafty, as always. I pretty much do the first draft and post ‘em up. Like all the writing draft prompts that aren’t starters, it is 100% okay to reblog them for other to read! Enjoy!)The rest of the council stood in patient irritation silently as they waited for Khadgar to show up. He was late, very late, but despite their annoyance, they all hoped that it was from getting lost in research and not because…They quickly pushed such thoughts out of their heads.A portal opened nearby and an exhausted-looking Khadgar stumbled out of it. A collective sigh of relief was heard from the others before they began to scold him for his tardiness. Khadgar grinned sheepishly as he apologized.“Forgive me! Business in Karazhan. I hadn’t expected it to keep me for so long.”“Again? Khadgar, why do you keep going back there? Its wealth of knowledge is vast, yes. But there are plenty of champions in training that could easily -”“No, no. Best I do it whenever I can. No one knows that place better than I. No use in risking others.”Kalec and Modera exchanged glances and then shrugs before going into Council business.

Khadgar restlessly wandered around the room, muttering comments to himself as the other members spoke. Every so often he’d engage but was largely ignoring the meeting. Kalec’s ears perked up a little when Khadgar went by him - demonic. Khadgar was muttering things in demonic. Flecks of blue scales shimmered onto Kalec’s skin and he quickly turned towards the Archmage.“Khadgar, what are you DOING?” He couldn’t shift fully since he wouldn’t fit, but he was willing to take the fight outside if need be. Modera and the others looked over in confusion. Kalec wasted no time in alerting them to what Khadgar had been muttering.Was it a joke? Had he finally gone mad? All they saw was an inhuman grin, and all they heard was a few utterings in demonic before everything….The chaos went by so quickly, and yet, felt like an eternity. Most of the tower was damaged or destroyed by the explosion, but some quick spell work saved most of the people inside. The council, at least, was safe. When the dust settled each member looked at the others to see who had been quick with their fingers. Much to their surprise, none of them had cast the barrier that protected them all - including Khadgar from the blast. It didn’t take long to figure out who did once they realized it wasn’t one of them. And HIS presence was more of a surprise than Khadgar’s apparent betrayal.Lips pursed together to try and hide a smile and standing in between Khadgar and the Council, was Medivh. He wagged his finger back and forth at his “apprentice” disapprovingly. “Tsk. Sloppy work. You should have paid more attention to your surroundings.”Khadgar snorted. “It didn’t matter who was here as long as the council -”“I wasn’t talking to you.” Medivh glanced back at the four Archmages with a disappointed frown. “Please. I know my young trust is eccentric, but when was the last time you ever saw him act as such?” Modera flinched, scolding herself for not speaking up sooner when she had noticed. Kalec looked a bit uncomfortable as well, he should have detected the foul magic sooner. Medivh brushed the front of his robes and turned his attention back to Khadgar.“Now. I’ve dealt with your aftermath a few times, and quite frankly. I am tired of you after this. I am insulted that you would take the appearance of an old friend and student, and sully the good image he tries so hard to maintain. Come, come now. Drop the disguise, you may not have killed anyone but you did manage to sneak in. Surely you feel the need to brag?”Kalec swore under his breath as a Dreadlord appeared in Khadgar’s place. At least it hadn’t had copied Jaina. The Demon opened his mouth to, indeed, brag about how easy it is to infiltrate Dalaran despite all the mages, but was cut off mid-sentence by the very, very angry former Guardian. It let out a howl as it was destroyed and had its soul sent back to the Twisting Nether. It would be back someday, but for now, it got to wallow in its failure. The Aspect studied Medivh for a moment, pulling his thoughts together.“How long has Khadgar -”“Oh, just today. Don’t worry. I can assure you that every other day was indeed, my old apprentice.”“Where’s Khadgar?” Modera asked worriedly. Then she noticed it.Atiesh.Medivh had Atiesh.The Dreadlord’s staff had clearly been part of the illusion, but it was clear as day that what Medivh had was the real one. Voice shaking, she asked again as the others finally noticed as well, and looked on in horror, terrified of his answer.“Medivh….where is Khadgar.”

Earlier that day, Medivh had sensed trouble back in the halls of Karazhan. He didn’t want to return, figuring Khadgar would sense the same trouble and investigate himself. But when the feeling didn’t abate, curiosity got the better of him and he made the trip back to his old home. Upon returning, he sensed the presence of his old apprentice and contemplated leaving. But something was wrong, the aura was weak and there was the unmistakable signature of fel in the air. Not that, Karazhan wasn’t already crackling with various energies, but this was different. It was fresh. The Magus quickly investigated the rooms in halls in a silent panic, his main focus was to find Khadgar. And his heart broke when he did.Slumped up against a bookcase with a demonic blade through his chest and pinning him there, was Khadgar. Still alive, but barely. The fel corruption had ashened his complexion and was eating away at him. Atiesh was laying on the floor out of reach, and there was blood on the blade and his hands from his failed attempts to pull it out. Medivh quickly went to Khadgar’s side, who perked up at seeing his old Master.“Ah. I -told- you there was a demon in the Library.” Khadgar gently teased.Medivh couldn’t help but smile at the jab, remembering a moment many years ago when he ignored Khadgar’s insistence that he and Garona had dealt with such a beast. “So there was young trust. So there was. You still need to clean up the mess you made, however.” There was a brief moment of silence before either of them spoke again.“I’m sorry, Khadgar. I should have come sooner. The corruption has spread too much, there is nothing -”“I know. I know. I already tried everything I knew. It’s okay. To be honest. I could use the rest! There are new heroes on Azeroth now. Many don’t even know who I am aside from being that Archmage that asks for ridiculous amounts of items who also likes to party.”Another moment of silence.“I should….I will bring you to Dalaran while you still breathe. You should die at home, not here among cobwebs and dust.”“I am home.”“Dalaran is your home.”“Karazhan, is my home.” Khadgar insisted, giving his former master a stern, but soft expression. Holding in his emotions best he could, Medivh nodded, attempting to make Khadgar as comfortable as he possibly could. “Then welcome home, Young Trust. Welcome home.” He brushed some debris out of Khadgar’s hair with his hand.“You’ll need to come up with a new introduction,” Moroes spoke up from the shadows. “If you’re not Khadgar from Dalaran.”Khadgar gave a pained laugh but nodded in agreement.“Khadgar, of Karazhan, the Young Trust, of Karazhan.” It was hard not to laugh.It was harder to hear his laughter stop.Modera waited patiently to hear Medivh’s answer. But his silence hurt the longer it lasted.Until eventually, there was no question.The realization hit the Council hard, with only four members it would be difficult to perform many of the tasks required of them. And of course, it was a huge loss to the effort against the legion and the loss of a friend. They wanted to know how, when, and where was his body? There was little surprise when Medivh relayed Khadgar’s wish to die in Karazhan and not there, in Dalaran. After taking a brief moment to collect themselves, the Council quickly set out to alert the appropriate individuals. A proper, public mass service could be held after the war was over, but for now, anyone close to the Archmage who wish to pay their respects would be given the option. They had decided to bury him on the grounds of Karazhan as well, feeling that that was the most appropriate. There wasn’t much to say, not from the lack of words but because no one could bring themselves to speak. One by one, Khadgar’s closest friends left the fresh grave to return to their duties until Medivh was the last one. Gripping Atiesh tightly, he knew he had to make a choice. The absence of Khadgar in this effort would be noticed, and a devastating strike to moral. He could easily leave again, be he was also the only one who could replace Khadgar in terms of skill, power, and knowledge. He would give staying some thought, retiring inside to contemplate a formal return. Medivh entered the messy library lost in thought and was caught off guard by the specter he saw pulling a book off the shelf.It was Khadgar. Unmistakably Khadgar, Medivh had had his concerns that dying here would damn Khadgar’s spirit to wander these halls like so many others, but he quickly found peace when he further observed the ghost.There was no curse. Khadgar was young, unburdened by the visage of an old man that he had acquired upon freeing his master from the clutches of Sargeras. The only white in his hair was the skunk stripe that his former apprentice already had had upon his arrival to Karazhan as a boy. Death, ironically, had restored his youth and retained his curiosity and thirst for knowledge. He seemed unaware of Medivh, reading a book eagerly on draconic. However, after a moment the eager boy turned and smiled up at his master.“Mag-…Medivh! This book is fascinating! Can you teach me how to say these words properly? If I ever meet a dragon, I wish to impress them! And maybe also…to be able to read any scrolls they may produce on magic….” He held the book out with eager anticipation. And with a warm smile, Medivh took the book.“Of course, my boy. Whatever you wish to know. I will teach you. We have all the time in the world now. My sickness is gone, I am well again, my apprentice. Any book, anytime, any day. Just bring it to me and I will teach you.” He placed a hand gently on Khadgar’s spectral cheek and felt his fingers chill with the ethereal static. The image seemed blissfully unaware of the emotion in Medivh’s voice as the man stroked his cheek with his thumb. “I’m proud of you, Khadgar. I am so, so very proud of you.” Khadgar beamed, and a moment later, faded away. Medivh grabbed at the air, not wanting him to leave. That settled it. He would stay.His apprentice needed him.Medivh didn’t always see Khadgar. But he noticed that the library was tidier, that sometimes his lab equipment had been used or there were scrying materials set out. And every so often, a book would find its way onto Medivh’s desk. Which he would always promptly read out loud as if giving a lecture to a curious, invisible student. And he would always find lecture notes and questions on his table after he finished.

#RIP prompt #Khadgar #Medivh #Karazhahn #drabble draft #writing #World of Warcraft #I might have teared up a few times writing this fam #loremaster-milerna #safe to reblog

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viscountessevie · 7 years ago

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Mayrid of Problems

[No that title is not a typo, it will make sense when you read the fic]

A/N: Gahhh it frustrates me that I didn’t like/reblog/bookmark the post that inspired this fic but if the blogger who came up with that headcanon sees this, please tell me so that I can give you all the credit you deserve for this genius prompt. I present to you:

May and Marid’s One Night Stand

May groaned as another boyfriend walked out on her. What was it with people and unable to deal with the fact she did not want to have kids? Her nephews nieces were more than enough.

It wasn’t just the kids issue; her previous beaus always found one reason or another to leave. She can’t blame all of them for her short term relationship; she has broken up with several of them because they wanted the fame that came with dating the Queen’s sister. It was fun the first few years, her boy craziness finally paying off. Everyone wanted her and she gladly welcomed her. But now well into her 30s, she wanted to settle down. To have that one companion she can count on whenever. She wants what her sister has with Maxon.

As she watched her now ex-boyfriend walk away, she knew that wasn’t happening anytime soon. She wished she could turn back time and enjoy her youth a little bit more. That’s what she needed; to feel young again. May was usually a magnetic and positive person but some days just got her down and she needed to drown her sorrows. She ended up at Angeles’ Hell, a new and upcoming bar for the 20 something trust fund babies of Angeles. This was the perfect place for her to down a few drinks and momentarily forget about her failure of a love life. Hey, maybe she could find a younger guy to keep her warm for a night.

That is exactly what she did.

His bright smile was enough for May to swoon. She could have ran her hands through his mass of curls for the rest of her days. His eyes were deep set and charming. He dazzled and swept her off her feet. He was the perfect stranger.

So of course she slept with him.

He was the solution to her problems. She needed to feel young and that young man fulfilled all her needs. For that one night, she felt free of her previous romantic endearvors. She didn’t have to worry about what would happen next. She just focused on the now. She could worry about tomorrow when it came.

Worry is exactly what she did.

Marid Illéa just turned 20, he was determined to finish his teenhood bucket list and start a new one for adulthood. He had finally checked off ‘Sleep with an older woman’. My, the redhead he picked up the night before was wild. He was feeling pretty good about himself. So good that he was going to ask her to stay for breakfast. You need to know that Marid does not do The Morning Afters. He’ll usually kick her out the moment she opens her eyes. He stared at his ceiling and sighed contently. He heard his redhead echo the content sigh. They simultaneously turned to each other and yelled. They jumped away from each other in digust. They should have known better.

His dazzling smile was a little too iconic. Her red hair was a little too Singer.

As they examined each other, they saw all the years they missed after the Illéas left the Palace. May saw how his round face had become a strong jaw line sharp enough to cut, and his stringy limbs had filled out, she had felt up his muscles the night before.

Marid was at a loss for words. He used to have a school boy crush on her. She had aged well. Her features were more set and prominent. Her usual giddy smile was pulled back into a grimace as she assessed the situation.

“You can’t tell anyone!” They both exclaimed at each other before sighing in relief that their twisted secret would be kept safe. Marid was still in awe of his old babysitter. The Schreaves and Illéas were busy people so when their children needed tending to; Magda and May would take over. This was of course before they had moved. Marid had taken a immerse liking to May.

May noticed his staring and raised her eyebrows.

“What are you staring at?” “I can’t quite believe it’s you. How have you been?” “Can I have a moment to change and breakfast before we start with the small talk?” He nodded and left her to be while he changed in the guest room. Once they were both dressed, they met up in the living room. May was examining the apartment. She turned to him when she heard footsteps.

“Where are your parents?” He rolled his eyes. “I moved out the moment I turned 18. We had differences in beliefs.” “They seem to have differences with everyone.” May joked. Marid could only respond with an exasperated sigh.

“So what was the beloved sister of the Queen doing at Angeles’ Hell? You and I both know that isn’t the place for the larger than life May Singer.” He could pretend all he want but he had kept tabs on the royal family, especially May. He was hoping for the day he could reenter her life because she had always made his life a little brighter. He was also keeping an eye out for a husband; it couldn’t be just anyone, it had to be someone worthy of May. So of course Marid had guessed why she was at the bar the night before. She was lonely.

Despite it all, he wanted to hear it from her. It wasn’t his place to throw assumptions at her. Being May, she was known for being energetic and happy all the time. She was determined to keep up that side of her even if it gets tiring after a while.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She teased him. It was better than admitting that the cheerful May Singer was lonely and a little sad. Marid saw right through her but decided to keep quiet. She would open up when she wanted.

“Fair enough. Strawberry tarts and chamomile tea just the way you like it.” He served her. As she took her place at the coffee table, he went back into the kitchen to get his own breakfast. “Chocolate covered waffles and mocha I assume?” She guessed. He nodded with a smirk. It’s like they never left each other’s lives. They spent the rest of breakfast catching up. While Marid was on task with keeping up with the Schreaves, May was only vaguely aware of what Marid had been up to all these years.

After breakfast, they had to get on with their lives. Marid was deflated that the spell would be broken as soon as May left. Quite the contrary, before leaving, she turned to him.

“We should do this again.” Running the words through her head, she corrected herself, “By this I mean breakfast and nothing else.” Marid grinned, clearly amused but nodded nonetheless. They bid their goodbyes and went their seperate ways.

They both became too busy to have breakfast again. When Eady announced her Selection, both of them got to working. May was obviously helping her niece prepare while looking for her own suitors in Eady’s pile. Marid, on the other hand, had more devious plans. For you see, beliefs that Marid and his parents differed in involved the Illéan Throne. August and Georgia were perfectly fine with the Schreaves ruling whereas Marid felt as though he had been robbed of his birth right. A little after the Illéas had left the Palace after their falling out with the Schreaves, Marid took his father’s stash of diaries by their ancestors as an act of defiance. He found Gregory’s journals and started reading. The more he studied Gregory’s journals, the more he wanted the Throne and knew he deserved it.

As right as Marid may be about the Throne being rightfully his, he wanted it for all the wrong reasons. He wanted it for the power. To have a kingdom at his fingertips. The Schreaves - especially King Maxon had inherited the Throne deservingly and was ruling the country for the right reasons. He wanted the best for Illéa.

For years, Marid had been waiting for the ample opportunity to slither into the good graces of the Schreaves and strike. Eadlyn’s Selection was the opportunity that he had been waiting for. He had waited years, a few more months until she has narrowed down her Elite was nothing. His plan was to reenter her life and sabotage the Elite all while making himself seem like the perfect suitor. Once Eady marries him, he’ll either stage a death or make her bend to his will.

The idea came to him when he slept with May. Initially, he wanted to use May to get to his goal but he respected her too much to do that to her. Eady on the other hand, he knew from the moment they were playmates that she would be a terrible Queen. So there would be no lost love.

While May was trying to piece the most fulfilling life for herself, Marid set his plan to get Eady in motion. In short, his plan did not work. It all went down the drain. She declared Illéa a constitutional monarchy and picked a husband who wasn’t even in the running for her Selection. He was hoping the backlash of the latter would help him gain favour of the citizens. But before he could devise another scheme to do that, May put a stop to it.

This was their first meeting after the one night stand. May was furious. How dare he manipulate her niece like that? She barged into his apartment and started giving him a earful.

“How could you?” Was the first thing she yelled at him. Then she goes on to rant about everything wrong with what he did to Eady; all the manipulation and blackmail. She went on about how disgusted she was about all of it. Marid was hardly paying attention, he had heard this all from his parents after The Schreaves had relayed the shit he had tried to pull. The only thing that struck a chord with him when May gave him a piece of her mind was when she delievered her final line.

“I’m so disappointed in you.” He stopped breathing for a moment. He turned to her slowly. No one has ever said that to him, his parents somewhat expected this. They were always mad at him, not disappointed. Disappointed suggested that they believed in him. No one ever believed in him, he had to believe in himself and built himself up to be the man of the media he was today. He knew there was a reason he liked May. Even when they were younger, she believed in him. He knew what he had to do. Marid never had any regrets in life but the only two he had now was not reaching out to May earlier and having disappointed her. He did something he never thought he’d do. He apologised.

“I’m sorry, May.” She softened a little, seeing how apologetic he was but that doesn’t excuse how he was with Eady. She stared him down firmly. “I’m not the one who you should be apologising to.” He pursued his lips. He did not want to apologise to Eady. She would throw it in his face. May, almost reading his mind, insisted that it was the right thing to do. He groaned and whined but eventually gave in. May escorted him to the Palace to make sure he didn't make a run for it.

He didn't even want to replay that scene in his head. She laughed at him. That horrid girl - his Queen actually laughed at him when he apologised. With the killer side eye May was giving him, he had to take the emotional hit. He was not happy about it to say the least. He crossed his arms furiously as he stomped his feet all the way out like a child throwing a tantrum.

“I can't believe you made me do that!” He turned on her as soon as they left the Palace grounds. She rolled her eyes. “Eady could have had imprisoned for treason so don't pull this tantrum with me, Marid. I'm losing my patience with you.” May said sharply. He was taken back. He was starting to see the error of his ways. When you piss off May Singer, you know you're doing something wrong. He apologised meekly but she was having none of it. They parted ways, May asking him to only contact her after he has pulled himself together.

True to his word, he stayed away until he got himself together. Months later, he set up a meeting with May. He had a surprise for her and funnily enough she did too. He asked her to meet him at Leo’s soccer games. She was confused at the location but agreed nonetheless. When she walked up to the bleachers with a certain tall, dark and handsome gentleman, Marid’s heart dropped. His plan was a bust. May thought the same when she saw a caramel haired man by Marid’s side. They pushed all negative feelings away and smiled at each other. They introduce each other’s companions.

“Baden Trains?” Marid frowned, wasn't he a part of Eadlyn’s Selection. “Your uncle?” The dashing young man by Marid’s side was far too young to anyone’s uncle. Then again so was she. They excused themselves from their friends and sorted this out.

“Are you trying to set me up with your uncle?” “Are you doing the same with Baden?” They both nodded at the same time and grinned. They wished each other luck and went to meet their respective dates.

Marid shook hands firmly with Baden and was immediately smitten. May shyly went up to Marid’s uncle, most likely August’s brother because they looked so similar. She offered him a tentative smile; she felt like she was 14 all over again. She did all the crushing rather than the other way around. He beamed at her and held out a hand.

“Hello I'm Jules Illéa.” May blushed. “May Singer...say do they name all of you after the months of the year?” He laughed a beautiful laugh and that's when she knew.

He was The One.

#mrtflr #I love this prompt with all my heart #Mayrid #That's their friendship name yall #Threw in a bit of Maden #Jules Illéa I just made him up #Armie Hammer makes a good brother for August #The Selection #The Elite #The One #The Heir #The Crown #TheMonthOfMaySinger #May Singer Month #May Singer #Marid Illéa #Baden Trains

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