#where she’s healed slowly by medicine and not shimmer
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Where’s the au where Ekko manages to carry jinx with him to safety circa s1e7 and help heal her and bond and eventually kiss???? Where’s the fic??? Hello????
#arcane#timebomb#jinx#Ekko#powder#jinxekko#ekkojinx#jekko#jinx x ekko#Ekko x jinx#ao3#fanfiction#fanfic#fic ideas#prompts#like we saw him go back for her in s2e7 so where my 300k slowburn fic of Ekko carrying her despite his broken leg off the bridge#where he carries her to the firelight base slowly but sure and eventually with the help of the professor#where she’s healed slowly by medicine and not shimmer#where Ekko stays at her bedside as much as he can#where she picks fights and he storms off but comes back anyways#where he cools her head with a washcloth and brushes her hair for her#where they talk and becomes friends again#where that lost love comes back with a vengeance and they realize they still love each other#even after everything#where’s my fic of them being happy together and getting jinx/powder away from Silco and his manipulation???#(I love silco don’t get me wrong but I want jinx to be happy with Ekko and that means getting her out of that toxic environment with silco)
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Spruce Tea
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Word Count: 2008
Rating: G
Pairing: Cloud Strife/Tifa Lockhart
Summary: Autumn of 0002. An infantryman suffered an attack outside of the Nibel Reactor after protecting Tifa. Hoping to help alleviate the pain, Tifa climbs the mountain once more in search of spruce leaves, which her mother once said is good for one's health.
Note: written for @clotiweek 2023 Day 1: Spruce - Healing.
Read on AO3.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Mother said spruce tea was good to for one’s health—
Tifa thought as she slowly made her way through the dead leaves littering the forest floor. Pick the ones on the lower branches, wash them, brew them. They used to keep a jar of it all year when her mother was still around. Tifa used to believe that was all her mother needed to get better, so she’d learned everything she could about the tree—where best to forage it, how to best extract its properties—but of course that had all been wishful thinking. No herb could save her mother, if modern medicines couldn’t. Still, the knowledge hadn’t all been for naught.
Tifa adjusted the shoulder strap of her satchel. Nibel mountain in the fall always looked especially beautiful. An orange glow permeated the red-and-brown foliage, seeming to turn everything it touched into gold. The breeze was cool, rattling the boughs and their leaves and pushing the wide rim of her cowboy hat back. She pushed it back down, securing the cord more firmly beneath her chin.
It had been a while since her last trek through these trees. Her lessons with Zangan would sometimes bring her deep into the forest, but she’d never gone this far alone. Probably that time when she’d climbed the mountain after her mother’s death only to fall down a cliffside. Cloud had taken the blame for it—the adults all saying he was a bad influence, none of them listening to a word she’d said. That had probably been the start of the rift between them. Not that she was particularly close with him before, but they were neighbors and their mothers were friends. She’d thought they could be friends too. But no matter what she did afterwards, the distance always remained. He was so far away. A glance here, a smile there; her father watching them like a hawk.
The line of birches and oaks slowly gave way to browning conifers: firs, pines, cedars. The leaves were still mostly green, though Tifa could spot several browns and yellows. She took a path she vaguely remembered from memory, ducking under an especially low bough of fir. The spruce trees should be just around the corner, she thought.
Somewhere ahead, birds chirped. A gust of wind brought the fresh scent of pine to her nose. Tifa closed her eyes and breathed it in.
“Tifa?”
Tifa stopped in her tracks, lips parting in a half-smile. “Cloud,” she greeted, turning around and expecting to see a fresh-faced blond-haired boy—
No one was there. She blinked, then blinked again. Light shimmered in the empty space, a circle of luminance on the forest floor. Her smile turned to a frown. Of course he was not here. She wasn’t seven. There was no Cloud to come and fetch her.
***
The call had stopped Tifa in her tracks. She turned, then found Cloud in the space next to a birch tree, hand on the trunk as he bent down, catching his breath. Sweat glistened on his forehead.
“Where are you going?” he asked through his still-apparent exertion. He held a stitch on his side. Tifa looked past his shoulder. She’d gotten well away from the village—she could hear no more of the afternoon din from the village square. Had he followed her all the way here?
She turned back around and pointed in the general direction ahead. “Somewhere,” she said. She hadn’t actually been there before. Her mother had only told her of the spruce trees in the mountain. Tifa had seen the leaves kept in a jar at her house, watched whenever her mother took it out and ground them before brewing them in hot water. Her mother only drank it when the coughing fits were worse. She noticed because whenever her father came home and saw her mother in the kitchen with a cup in hand, his lips would always pull taut. I’ll make you tea, he’d say, ushering her mother to their bedroom. Now rest. Her mother always went without much protest.
But then the fits began again that morning. The spruce jar in the cabinet was empty. Her father had been away so she couldn’t ask for his help. She’d meant to tell her mother, but when she’d peeked through the gap in her mother’s bedroom door, she’d glimpsed her propped against the bed frame with her favorite cream shawl wrapped around her thin shoulders. Asleep, or trying to; weary lines made creases across her pale skin. Was it just her or did her mother’s cheeks look even more gaunt than they usually were?
An unwanted thought buried itself in Tifa's mind: that her mother’s health had worsened. So, Tifa had taken it upon herself to look for those spruce leaves up in the mountain. Not that she knew where they grew… She could probably tell from the shape of it, though. She knew them by heart. It shouldn’t be too hard.
When Tifa explained her reasons to Cloud, she was met with a frown.
“Do you know where those trees are?” he asked.
Tifa’s lips pursed in self-defense. “I know they’re up in the mountain.”
“The mountain is huge. By the time you found it, night would have fallen.”
Tifa set her jaws. Her mother was sick. She wasn’t going to let her die.
Tears pricked her eyes. She whirled on her feet, a new sense of purpose in her stride. But Cloud caught up with her, easily keeping pace.
“I’ll take you there,” he mumbled.
She cut him a glance. The frown was still there in the stubborn set of his jaws, but his rich blue eyes stared fixedly ahead. She found herself giggling and her steps slowing down. Pain she hadn’t noticed before shot up her legs, and she realized her shins beneath the hem of her white knee-length dress harbored cuts and grazes, the wounds welling red but not deep enough to bleed.
“Here.” Cloud extended his hand, face angled to the side. With a smile, Tifa grasped his hand and let him lead her to where the spruce trees stood.
***
The trees were where Tifa remembered them. Pride swelled in her chest as her memory indeed proved right. She circled the copse, seeking the right kind of leaves. Not too brittle, not too fresh. A little hard, seeing as most of the evergreen were already transforming to brown or red. But she found it nonetheless, amidst the yellows. Carefully stepping over treacherous ground, Tifa ducked beneath a branch and reached up to touch the hard, needle-like leaves. A small smile formed across her lips. She fished the flip knife from her bag and cut a hefty amount that should last ‘til winter.
The sun had already moved halfway toward the distant horizon by the time Tifa returned to her house. The lamps hadn’t been lit; her father was still out. She crossed to the kitchen, slid her satchel over her head and placed it on the counter. Grabbing a colander from the cabinet, she dumped all the spruce she had gathered, then placed them in the sink and turned the tap water on. She picked away the dirt as she washed the leaves clean, trimming the dead parts out. Then she let them dry on a tray under the patch of sunlight by the window.
When evening fell, Tifa had already packed the leaves away in their glass jar right before her father got home. She already had their dinner ready, laid out on their small table. He noticed the tea.
“What’s this?” he said.
Tifa shrugged, feeling rather self-conscious. “I went out a bit.”
Her father sat down, grabbed the cup, and breathed in the scent. The rough lines of his face twisted in a wash of nostalgia. His lips wavered as he smiled, bringing the ceramic rim to his mouth and taking a sip. He paused, savoring the taste, or perhaps lost in memory.
“It’s good,” he croaked, blinking rapidly. He reached up to wipe the corner of his eye. Tifa hadn’t noticed the tension coiling in her shoulders until she released it in a long, shudder of breath. Her father cleared his throat. “What’s the occasion?”
Tifa’s gaze fell to her dinner: mutton, grilled and coated in gravy, with a side dish of mashed potatoes and peas. “You…heard of the attack at the reactor…right?” Tifa began. “One of the Shinra men got hurt while protecting me. I wanted to make sure he’s alright.” She felt her father’s scrutiny, her own backlash rising at the back of her throat. Her father had been mostly lenient with her autonomy. He’d let her train with Zangan, explore the forest and mountain alone, and become their village’s official guide, but apparently, it was too much to leave her alone in men’s company, even though Tifa could probably break most men’s arms now with a flick of her wrists. She had suspected—still suspected—it was because of her fall, but that had been seven years ago, and the source of his ire—misplaced, though it was—was nowhere in town.
The thought sent a pang to her heart. Two years and not even a letter to say how he was faring. Claudia never showed it on her face, but Tifa knew the absence of news from her son gnawed at her heart.
“I was their guide,” Tifa said again. “I should’ve made sure the path was clear.” It was as much her fault, as the fall had been.
Her father eventually conceded and Tifa beamed. When it was time for her to visit the inn, she grabbed the glass jar she’d set aside for the infantryman and kissed her father’s cheeks. Zack greeted her at the inn’s foyer.
“Ah, you just missed him,” the SOLDIER said after Tifa told him the reason for her visit. “But I’ll pass your message along. Your well wishes too.” He meant to take the jar from Tifa, who had a mind to keep it and give it tomorrow instead. But it would probably be better for the infantryman to have the tea tonight, before duty took him elsewhere. She let Zack take the jar from her.
“Is he alright, though?” she asked. “I thought he’d be in bed for the rest of the day.”
“He’s made some good recovery, yes,” Zack said, then paused, noticing her pout. His face softened. “Don’t worry. He’s tough. He wouldn’t have jumped in front of you like he did otherwise. But I’ll make sure he gets the rest he needs. There was a prior engagement he couldn’t afford to cancel.”
Tifa nodded, his reassurance failing to quiet her concern.
“Speaking of, Tifa,” Zack said again, “about that boy you mentioned.”
“What?”
“The blonde-haired boy.”
Tifa blinked. In her quest to gather spruce leaves, she’d completely forgotten her email to Zack, inquiring after Cloud. Heat quickly rose to her cheeks. “Forget about it!” she said, a tad too forceful. She fumbled, hands waving in front of her. “I’ll, uh, just leave the recipe with you, then.” She crossed to the receptionist table, asked for pen and paper, and wrote down her mother’s recipe for the spruce tea. Zack had a smirk on his face when she handed it to him. It made her bristle, rather self-consciously. She ducked her head, murmured a “bye, then” before withdrawing from the inn, Zack’s quiet chuckle following her retreat.
Outside, fresh, pine-scented wind rolled down from the mountain. Tifa breathed it in, letting it cool her nerves. Across the square, beyond the water tower where Cloud once made his promise, Claudia’s window-lit cottage sat hunched like a small giant next to her own two-story house, with smoke puffing out of the chimney and a pretty arrangement of potted flowers decorating the front. Maybe she’d give the woman a visit tomorrow. Who knows? Claudia might impart some more homemade recipes to her, not least of all her infamous stew. With a silent prayer to the stars for Cloud’s good health and well-being, Tifa slowly made her way back to her house.
~ END ~
#cloti#cloud strife#tifa lockhart#cloti fall festival 2023#cloti week 2023#ffvii#ff7#final fantasy vii#final fantasy 7#crisis core#ff7 crisis core#ff7r#ff7 remake#final fantasy#fanfiction#ff fanfic#ff7 fanfic
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◈ @goldenfists [ ⋯ ] Closed Starter : Post arcane .
The dreary rainfall fell outside, which had since taken care of the smoke and chaos that had lingered after the explosion in the council chambers. Her eyes had witnessed it, the massive cloud of red swirling with gray and black; doused in red marble as if the building bleed from the wound. The red moon had been an eerie omen, one not even she could have predicted would end like this. That was the last time she had seen the council chamber; on the edge of the bridge, holding onto Vi desperately trying to maintain her strength before pure exhaustion gave out.
Now back in Piltover, she heard the words from the doctors who had visited to take care of her in her room. The question of how she had even been alive, she barely had enough blood, and her condition should have meant death. She knew why, she still remembered vividly the words of Lamb and Wolf. Magic: whether the doctors in Piltover wanted to believe it or not, it was their magic that had sustained her. She had a transfusion done, blood from her father to help recover what was lost and then the tubes hooked up to her to provide her medicine and hydrate her system again. Still, she hated being in bed yet she could barely manage getting out of bed either.
The painkillers helped her sleep, and her father made sure the medicine provided would stimulate faster healing. Piltover had created a medicine that could heal faster; though nothing like shimmer. What might take a would take days, but her wounds would take several weeks. Her father's eyes looked distant and lost, suffering the loss of his wife and then this with his daughter. Caitlyn didn't want to think about that as she turned her head on the pillow til she realized she couldn't sleep at all. "Bloody damn needle," Caitlyn muttered, taking every ounce not to rip it out again from her arm. Her father lectured her twice on it already. A part of her wanted to curl up to Vi again, her warmth gave her comfort, and the sweet licks against her forehead allowed her to relax as she tended to the little cuts against her face rather than using the ointment. But Vi had gotten up to make sure to get some food for them both, and Caitlyn couldn't deny she did want some of her favorite food. For the first time in days, Caitlyn wanted food and Vi wanted to ensure Caitlyn ate.
A creak of the door caused Caitlyn's face to lift from the pillow, weakly pushing herself up out of bed to sit up. She had a shirt on with a fully exposed back so that tending to her bandages could be done with ease. Turning, she noticed the broad shoulders and messy hair and a sad smile crossed her lips. "Sett," Instinct demanded she run and embrace him. Her leg, on the other hand, would not allow her. She had to use a cane for now just to walk. But slowly that smile faded and eyes cast down to the blanket as her fingers dug against it. The bruises against her neck were painted purple and blue over her typical ivory skin, and if not for the painkillers, her mouth would burn like fire from her canine teeth ripped out of them.
"You shouldn't see me like this," Her voice whispered. Every part of her visible weakness from the physical trauma, not to mention the weight of her mind suffering that she had yet to fully process. She was a shadow of herself, the edges of exhaustion crinkling the corner of her eyes and bags underneath them. Dull blue eyes couldn't make contact as she shivered, glancing at the window where the rain pitter-pattered. The scene from the window reflected the turmoil of Caitlyn's heart. Dark clouds loomed overhead, not allowing a single ray of sunlight to peak through. It left the world in a state of dusk, despite being the afternoon. Heavy rainfall hails down from above with a constant wash of emotional rage. And even the flashes of lightning crackling in the distance, a wake of rage amidst the mournful rainfall. Rumbling thunder quaked as Caitlyn shivered slightly, the chill against her skin as she glanced over to the fireplace in her room and the fire had gone out. Her hands brushed together, anxiously rubbing together as she didn't know what to say to Sett or how to look at him right now.
#goldenfists#interactions — the answer is here ; staring me in the face .#[ panda speaks ] — tracker.#thread: the dreary evening reunion#post canon verse — revealing the snow leopard within .
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@ladyleonster
Why am I going this way? Shut up shut up shut up! Don’t think about it! Just go!
Her feet picked up where her mind hesitated. The staircase seemed to lurch backwards, further and further, continuing on and on. I can help. I can help. I volunteered. The hallway towards the infirmary seemed to stretch and contract as she made her way onwards. Micaiah told me I have a knack for it. I’m sure of it. Keep moving. That feeling, of healing with bloodstained hands, of helping cultivate life back from the brink. What if I can’t help? She’d gotten addicted to the novelty of helping others. And frankly, she wasn’t ready to give up on herself just yet. Not when she had found familiar faces that smiled back at her even throughout everything.
Yunaka poked her head through the door.
The ghastly sight of the wounded, misery, barely reflected on her face. Peppered throughout, nurses and volunteers treated at any empty bedside. Her eyes darted to their hands that shined with magic, soft light that glinted too in the patients’ eyes. Some volunteers dressed wounds with cloth and poultice, and even others monitored wash cloths or managed bottles of medicine. So I’ll be of use after all…!
As she walked in, a nearby nurse turned to her. Noticing the academy uniform, Yunaka was handed a short staff and pointed towards a bed in the back of the room. Without further elaboration the encounter was over, and the nurse, picking up a tray of bottles, disappeared into a nearby storage room.
Yunaka stood there for a moment, turning the staff over in her hands. 1.6 lbs, copper and wood. Much smaller than Elyosian staves. Easy to conceal, easier to travel with- STOP THAT! Move! It was definitely some sort of smaller heal staff. She recognized the carving of the wings above the stone placed on its crown, and reflected on her ability.
With Micaiah, everything had been so easy; and not just because of the emblem’s power. The warmth of her presence had filled her with confidence, giving her the extra push she needed to stand shoulder to shoulder with any member of Alear’s army. When she casted magic back then, she had never been worried about whether or not it would work; Micaiah’s words had guaranteed her success. She had had only to trust Micaiah. Over the greatest distances, even through silence staves, her spells would always be cast into the night.
She moved towards the back, turning her head to let her eyes wander over the passing beds. A student volunteer, back turned to her, uttered small words under his breath, hand pressed to a patient’s chest. A woman lay on her back, her left arm covered entirely in bandages; a priest attended her. Though the window’s glare shined directly on him, small shimmers of his faith magic rippled over his sleeves. I’m such a sham, I can’t even heal without a staff… Wait, can I even use one?
As she arrived at the patient apparently assigned to her, she concealed a small gulp. “Hiya! Don’t you worry, I’ll be helping you out today!” She twirled the heal staff in one hand, her other hand on her hip. “Now, I’ll be just a second…”
Yunaka held out the stave toward the patient’s chest. Just as she always had, she closed her eyes, and felt for the pulse in her chest. Remember what Micaiah said. Her heartbeat resonating in her head, she exhaled slowly. I’m already good at aiming for vital organs. This is no different. Not daring to open her eyes, she stood there in silence, breathing in and out deeply.
A quiet voice struggled from the bed. “Hey, um… I don’t think it worked…”
Her eyes snapped open, immediately making direct contact. The eyes enveloped her gaze, and Yunaka began to drown in the misery on the woman’s face. No, no, this isn’t…
“Um, sorry about that! I guess it didn’t work just yet, huh. Well um, while it, er, begins to set in, let me get someone to make sure!” Catching the uncertainty in her patient’s eyes, she continued, “Don’t you worry, everything will work out zappily!”
Turning away, Yunaka’s smile seemed to waver. Privately, panic had started to seep in, though her facade would never allow it. Desperate for some help, she tapped the back of a volunteer at the bed beside her.
“Hey there, do you mind helping me out with this…? This is a little embarrassing, ha ha, but could you help me cast this heal spell? I’ve definitely done this before but… help me out, wouldja?”
don't worry, all the bleeding's internal! that's where blood's supposed to be!
#dont worry all the bleeding's internal!#ladyleonster#stiletto (ic)#// SORRY FOR STARTER BEING SO LONG I WAS JUST LIKE. BAZINGA BRAIN BLAST :SOB#// DOUBLY SORRY FOR ITS MATCHING LONG TITLE just call it by this tag#// THE VOLUNTEER SHE'S TAPPING IS ETHLYN#// LET ME KNOW IF U WANT ME TO CHANGE!
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Elen Lantanwanya
Part 1, Part 2 (reading), Part 3
featuring turgon x reader
fandom tolkien — the silmarillion
a/n yea - am sorry there's going to be a part 3
warnings blood, injury, medics, needles - i know nothing about medicine or the process of cleaning wounds - I apologize for my lack of knowledge
You were certainly overstaying your welcome in this hidden grand city.
But you couldn’t deny – it was rather nice to live in a magical looking city hidden from the outside world.
You thanked your luck stars day and night – you were brought to a place like this rather than somewhere else, where you would have to get by and survive with your bare hands.
Your bruises and scratches were slowly starting to heal – but the aching on your sides still take longer.
Anyone could tell from the large purple bruise that ran along your side.
`The healers were pleased – they didn’t have to worry about you too much.
You knew your way around herbs and medicines – to make yourself some and take care of yourself.
The torn and baggy clothed you had been replaced with shimmering robes.
Each on personally picked out by Idril – the princess and daughter of the elf you were still somewhat unsure around.
You were shocked to learn he was king – a father too, but you kept needing to remind yourself how elves – the mystical creations they are – did not age.
Elf or not – you had to admit Turgon was very handsome.
Multiple times – you accidentally lock eyes with him while at the dinner table – every time there was heavy blush on your face and you immediately turned away from him.
It was princess Idril that kept inviting you – and you thought it would be rude to decline, especially since she was being so kind to you.
You wondered about her mother – Turgon’s queen.
You weren’t being rude – but you did notice Turgon’s side was rather lonely. The place of someone important as the queen was being.
You were completely sure Idril was in no way adopted – not with the way they shared the same strikingly blue eyes.
Her mannerisms were similar to his too – she never forced you out of the healers room – but stayed with you for a few minutes and talked.
It was only the third of her visiting did you finally come out of healing quarters and change into something else – attend their dinners too.
Saying Turgon was shocked to you – would be an understatement.
In all the times – he tried to talk to you, he never gotten a more than a sentence out of you.
When Idril suggested she would try – Turgon was rather hesitant but in seeing you had swallowed your fears and helped his soldiers – he allowed it.
However – the first day or 2, he was eavesdropping from the corner.
He couldn’t help – it was daughter and as much as he as taken a rather odd liking to you – but it came to his daughter he rather be safe than sorry.
He couldn’t afford to lose someone else in his life.
You sat beside his daughter at every dinner – afraid to look up and converse with anyone among the table.
Glorfindel had tried once or twice to get something out of you – in the end he only received a warning nudge from Turgon to leave you alone.
You only either played with your food or looked around the room.
If you conversed with anyone – it was probably his daughter, no one else.
“Atar – you need to stop staring at her!”
Idril suddenly whispered to him – harshly.
She make sure you couldn’t hear – or distracted.
Turgon turned to his daughter and blinked.
“Am I?”
He asked – suddenly clear his throat.
“You look at her like she’s some sort of puzzle you can’t solve – you’re making her highly uncomfortable!”
Turgon smiled fondly at his daughter – the way she scrunched her nose when angry reminded him of Elenwe.
“Am sorry, nitya elen – I’ll make sure not to.” (little star).
He tried to stay true to his promise – but it was hard not notice you.
The way you moved your eyes across room, or the way you quietly tugged your hair behind your ear, or lazily pick up the cutlery again – Turgon would always earn a kick under the table or a glare from Idril whenever he did.
It was safe to say – when you left the king did get an earful from his daughter.
But Idril was right – you were like a puzzle he couldn’t solve.
There was something about you he couldn’t understand – why were you still so afraid of everyone?
Barely conversing outside your little circle of the healers and Idril – Turgon had visited you every day after you were found by his soldiers – but still he never really got a straight sentence out of him.
Not to mention – you always refused to hold eye contact with him for more than 3 seconds.
Has he frightened you? – Has his people mistreated you?
There were many questions running through his mind – he knew he couldn’t bombard you with them, that wouldn’t fair on you – especially since you were still very nervous around him.
Many times – Turgon thought amount the times he first interacted with you.
Was there anything you could uncomfortable about him?
Turgon tried to put himself in your shoes – he supposed being surrounded by people outside your kin can be difficult – maybe even scary.
You were cleaning around the healing quarters, you were staying here for a few weeks now, you might as well help out.
These were quiet lonesome moments — you would think about how you had overstayed your welcome here.
Sure — they were kind enough to let you stay and regain your health. But you definitely did not belong here — a place filled with creatures wiser and fairer than you.
It wouldn't make sense to stay here any longer.
Then suddenly — what had started as a calm turned for the worse — When an alarmed and panicked Idril came rushing – crying her eyes out in front of you.
Your eyes widened as the girl’s sobbed in front of you.
Whatever she was mumbling – didn’t make sense to you.
“Idril – here, sit down.”
You quietly prompted her to sit on one of the best – one your hands rubbered her back gently trying to get her to slowly calm down.
“Idril. . . easy, little one. Deep breaths.”
Though – you knew she was years older than you. She was really still just a child.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
You said.
You tenderly held one of her hands and draw soft circles on them – you tried your very best calm her down.
“Atar. . .”
She sobbed.
You knew that meant father – she always referred to as such.
“What about him?”
“Orcs.”
You were confused when she said that – putting your aside your own frees you sat closer to her.
“What are you trying to say, little one? – Your atar? Orcs?”
“Atarnya – he when out to fight the orcs! Am scared Y/N!”
She suddenly hugged you – startling you – and cried on your shoulder.
“He left the hidden city?”
You gasped.
Idril nodded in reply.
Turgon really left to fight? — Should he be doing that?
How many orcs were out there for the king to get out and fight?
An uneasy feeling spread inside more so when Idril began the death of her mother.
“I can't lose him too”
She mumbled to you.
So there was a queen — someone who should have been queen but unfortunately got killed by the icy depths of the Helcaraxë as Idril explained.
That was the king's wife — the mother of the princess currently crying in your arms.
She had already lost one parent — losing another would pain her soul to death.
“Your father is strong, Idril — you know this. It'll be alright, please have faith in him.”
You rubbed her arm up and down — surprised she was allowing you to.
Elves didn't associate in this form outside of kin — so it bewildered you how Idril easily let you comfort her.
For the next few hours — you tried your best to console Idril.
On the inside you were panicked — terrified would a better word.
If something happened to Turgon. . .
You didn't want to think of what consequences it would bring — you prayed he would survive, at least for his daughter.
So when the doors to the healing quarters with injured soldiers once again — Idril and yourself desperately seeked out Turgon.
There were many soldiers and lords — but still no sign of Turgon.
The longer you waited — the longer the dreaded thoughts were approaching you — and fast.
You held your breath — worried if you moved or breathed something terrible might happen.
Idril began squeezing your harder and harder in worry.
You wanted march and check yourself — but you kept yourself grounded and tried to wait patiently.
When all the soldiers finally came —there was still no sign of the king.
You turned around — spotting the lord of the house of the golden flower to ask about Turgon's whereabouts — when suddenly Idril cried out.
“Atar!”
You watched as Idril left your side and flung her arms around her father.
He winced slightly — but nevertheless returned the hug of his only child.
Your eyes checked over him — you noted how his left arm was heavily bleeding.
“My king — your bleeding!”
The head healer was beside you in seconds.
“Don't worry about me! — Get my soldiers treated first!”
“But atar-“
“It's right, pitya elen — we only a few healers. I can wait.”
Turgon had gently told his daughter.
Idril frowned — then suddenly her eyes snapped at you.
“Atar— y/n is available! Y/n can treat you!”
Your eyes widened.
“Me?”
You suddenly pointed to yourself.
“Y/n. . .”
Turgon said — finally knowing your name.
“Y/n has great skills, my king.”
You were shocked when the head healer backed you up.
“What do you say, y/n?”
Turgon looked at you expectantly.
With Idril pleading eyes — it was definitely impossible to reject.
So you quickly asked the king to sit the table of whatever supplies you required.
“Please, sit here. I just need to get something else.”
You mumbled awkwardly and went to grab whatever else you needed.
In the meantime, Turgon insisted his daughter can go and he could take care of things here.
While, Idril was reluctant to leave — she knew she can trust her father in your hands.
Turgon sighed and sat down on the small chair next to the range of herbs, mixes, box of needles and cleaning clothes.
You came back as quickly as you left.
A pot of grinded herbs in your hands.
Giving him a cloth to apply pressure on the wound – you quickly cleaned up the mess.
Your nervous hands reached for the cloth again – wow, in all your years as a healer you never thought you would be treating a king – and an elvish king?
Carefully, you pushed away his heavy sleeves and took a good look on the wound.
Shakingly – you tried not to meet eyes with him – however you could feel his eyes on you.
He was watching you carefully – it was a little distracting, but you paid close attention to cleaning and disinfecting the large wound on his arm.
It looked like a sword’s slash – thankfully it wasn’t deeply, you just needed to stitch it up.
Gently – you grabbed the mixed herbs you had grinded up earlier and carefully applied it across the area.
You took as long as possible – you didn’t really want to be the one who had to stitch up the wound of the king of the hidden city.
You gulped and reached for a needle – he was sitting very still for you.
You desperately hoped one of his healers would be available to do the rest – you quietly looked around the room and rolled the needle and stitching in between your fingers.
“It’s alright.”
Turgon chose to speak up when saw you being reluctant and uneasy with this whole ordeal.
You bit your lip and sighed inwardly – before you reached down again.
He made no movement of uneasiness when you began to work – concentrating hard and try not to mess up.
You let your breath the entire time.
You didn’t want to think of the consequences of what would happen if you did this wrong – your life may be on the line.
Why did you ever agree to do this?
Once you finished – you shakingly cleaned around the stitched area.
“You are good at this.”
You peaked at him from underneath your eyelashes, but quickly turned away when you noticed he was still looking at you.
“T - Thank you?”
You mentally rolled your eyes at the sound of your voice.
You sounded like his hands were around your neck – like he was forcing you to do this.
You couldn’t help – this is the first time you came across important elves such as the one in front of you.
You grabbed the long bandages from the table.
“If I may ask – why did you become a healer?”
That question confused – no one has really asked you that before.
The bandages in your hands were really soft – you don’t think you ever came across soft and firm bandage. The closest to this what humans had were small pieces of clothing – elves truly had everything, didn’t they? – You were a little envious of these mystical creations of Eru.
With a nervous gulp – you wrapped the bandage around his arm as you thought about the question.
You shyly met his gaze - wondering what was happening behind those blue eyes. You always found yourself - out of breath because of them.
Turgon watched you with interest - there was a small smile as your shaky hands was trying to work as swiftly as possible.
“I don't know - I guess I always liked helping people. . .”
You timidly answered him.
“Why are you still nervous around me, elen lantanwanya?”
There was it again. . .
“Am not. . .”
“Really? - You purposefully treated my healthy arm? Instead of the wounded arm?”
He cocked an eyebrow at you.
Your eyes widened as you looked down – you had stitched the right arm yes, but completely bandaged the wrong arm.
Your jaw fell in shock – how the fuck did you manage to do that?
Turgon chuckled at our reaction – and you rolled your eyes.
Quickly getting to work again – you unwrapped the bandage and grabbed a long line of a new bandage.
The smirk on Turgon’s lips made you want to glare at him – but chose silently to curse at him.
This time making sure to wrap it around the right arm – you carefully tied it not to cause too much pain.
But you doubted he would even be bothered by it – elves healed exponentially faster than humans – there you go, another thing to be jealous about.
A little annoyed you reached over to grab another small line of cloth to wrap around it.
But accidently you had hit against the box of needles – causing the box of needles to knock off the table.
You gasped and cursed under breath.
Turgon only shook his head and chuckled – immediately reaching for the fallen needles on the ground.
Your eyes widened realizing the king was going on his hands and knees to pick it and suddenly without thinking you acted.
Two pairs of small delicate hands were placed top of his hands – gently stopping him.
Turgon froze – he held his breath and turned to face you.
His eyes widened looking into your eyes – you were so close to him; he could breathe in your scent of lavender and a herb he couldn’t put his finger on yet.
When you had realized your closeness – you quickly withdrew your hands and held them close to you.
“Am sorry – let me.”
You said and reached out for the fallen needles.
Turgon needed to blink for a moment before he reacted.
“No, it’s alight – I can help.”
In the process of both of you reach – it caused your heads to hit against each other.
You hissed out painfully and so did Turgon – and rubbed a spot on your head.
“Am terribly sorry – are you alright?”
When both of you had turned to each other – you stared at each other for a second then chuckling at your misfortune.
“Am happy to see you’re no longer nervous around – but laughing.”
Turgon smiled at you – with his strikingly blue eyes and black hair that was so dark and soft it reflected the light into soft silver white lines, it always reminded of moonlight.
He was truly an ethereal being.
You let out a laugh and returned the smile.
Unknown to you – another pair of the same strikingly blue eyes were looking at you and smiling fondly.
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#turgon x reader#turgon#the silmarillion#the silm x reader#the silmarillion x reader#gondolin#noldor#turukano#turgon the wise#answered#eunoiawrites#silmarillion#tolkien elves
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Chemist!Reader x Viktor (SFW) (Part 1)
FINALLY GOT IT!!! Only took me several days and staying up until ungodly hours!
The prompt for this idea was a random idea I came up with like a week ago about a reader who is a chemist with a focus in medicine who was Viktor’s S/O and much like how Viktor becomes obsessed with the Hexcore, she becomes obsessed with finding a cure for him.
This first part is mostly some background stuff, part 2 will be where the juicy stuff is and all the drama will start to pop up. Part 1 here is just some nice good times I hope with a little treat at the end.
This part is SFW because honestly I’m not sure if I feel confident enough to do NSFW yet but I am fully prepared to for this fic, it’ll just come later.
CW: Mentions of death, sickness, there is a tiny tiny tiny bit of spice at the end but everything should be good!
Word: 5.4K!
(Also I will go ahead and warn not to expect Part 2 before Christmas unless a miracle happens)
Life in Zaun was never some simple experience for you. Your father had abandoned you and your mother when you were still very young. Your mother growing more ill from the toxins every day. You spent most of your free time researching cures and what might help her, not wanting to lose your only family and not wanting to be alone. Scouring every medical book and research you could get your hands on in the Undercity, didn’t take you long before you were becoming well versed in medications and their chemical makeups.
While you were able to eventually slow your mother’s ailments, it never stopped. You were 15 when you finally lost her. It was devastating. She was all you had, and all your purpose had rested in taking care of and healing her, now that was over.
You decided that the best way for staying afloat now was to capitalize on your vials and mixtures, selling the concoctions you made to make ends meet. For all that it was worth, you actually made quite the living. Your brews and tonics were reasonably helpful in dealing with a number of common Undercity ailments that many were not keen to treat with Shimmer. It wasn’t long before it was suggested to you to apply for the Piltover Academy. You never thought yourself a person of great knowledge, but with all that you had retained from caring for your mother you now had a decent knack for the sciences.
The application and approval process felt like a never-ending wait. You knew it likely had to do with your residency in Zaun. Eventually, you received a letter from the academy instructing you to meet with some representatives from the school on the Piltover side of one of the bridges. What was more nerve wracking was that they asked you to bring any examples of your skills and talents. You packed several of your best selling and some of your more complex tonics and medicines in the hopes that they might impress enough to guarantee you a better future.
You’d been topside countless times before, but never had you properly crossed one of the bridges. You never needed to go into Piltover proper, choosing instead to work with ingredients and chemicals that you could find on your side of it all. Seeing the buildings even from a distance was never not intimidating. It was like walking into a lions’ den as you slowly crossed the bridge clutching your bag and the invitation in hand. No one stopped you, thankfully, on the length of the journey, but there were plenty of stares reminding you that you didn’t belong on these streets. Upon viewing the small park that had been chosen for this meeting, you gulped down air you didn’t realize had been stuck in your throat.
Of all the people who could’ve been at your presentation, you had never thought (nor in honesty wanted) Professor Heimerdinger would be there. If you thought you were nervous before, you didn’t have a name for the feelings that were now clawing at your back and chilling your bones. Three other professors accompanied him, and they were all seated at a small table under a beautiful gazebo. It only took you a moment to identify each flora that was growing along the side and name at least two medicinal usages for each. It was strangely calming.
The professors looked up and acknowledged you one by one. It was honestly horrifying. Heimerdinger was the last to look up, and the excitement on his face was far more calming than you ever thought it might be. Something in his eyes made you feel at peace and a whole lot less nervous.
“It is phenomenal to meet you, Y/N. Your application was most promising! We decided that it’d be best to run through the scholarship process with this in person interview, since we know it can be incredibly difficult to pay tuition for some.”
The Yordle went on a bit of a tangent explaining the purpose of the meeting. It hadn’t even occurred to you that tuition might be too much for you to handle.
“Whenever you are ready!”
You blinked a couple times, suddenly nervous all over again. Feeling incredibly aware of all the eyes now on you. You approached their table and opened your bag, slowly displaying your bottles and vials for them to see.
“What exactly are these?” One of the professors asked.
“These are my remedies. I specialize in medicinal aids and working with chemical substances. These are my cures for more common ailments, such as the cold or an infection, but these are the ones I’ve created to help aid in more serious injuries and sicknesses. This one, in particular” You pick up a bluish green bottle with a thicker consistency “was what I used to help slow the side effects of my own mother’s sickness. She had bad lungs due to working in the mineshafts when she was younger. Sadly, it didn’t cure her, but she was able to pass on peacefully.”
The professors were eyeing each bottle with a very critical, but somewhat impressed eye from what you could see. Heimerdinger picked up the bottle you had spoken about and looked at the substance within it with a quizzical look.
“And how did you come by the ingredients needed for each of these?”
“Well, I didn’t have much to work with, so all my materials are found within the Undercity. But no Shimmer, I refuse to work with the stuff. I’ve seen too much pain caused by the crude.”
Heimerdinger nods and looks to the other professors who all share similar mostly pleased looks. He hops off of his chair and makes his way around the table to you. He holds out a hand which you cautiously take.
“Well, congratulations, Y/N, I do believe you’d be quite a promising young mind at our academy! We will send you a letter soon with all the information you’ll need in terms of moving and starting classes. You’ve done well and I have high hopes for what you will provide to the world moving forward!”
You could’ve cried hearing this. You thought you had a slim chance of getting in at best, but from the way he spoke it sounded like you were a shoo-in. It was the most euphoric feeling. To feel like maybe all this suffering might be worth it in the end.
It was about a week before the letter made its way to you, but you were already mostly packed up and ready to move. The house you’d known your whole life packed into a few boxes. You had a friend who would be moving in and ensuring the house stay well looked after, but something in you knew you’d never come back… not to live that was for sure.
The move to the academy was fairly simple. They sent over a few enforcers to help assist with the boxes and guide you to the living spaces. You got some questionable looks from passersby. At one point, Vander, who was the closest thing you have to a leader in the Undercity, stepped out of the Last Drop to ensure that you were okay. After assuring him that you were fine, you were able to leave in peace.
Crossing the bridge was different this time because you knew that you wouldn’t be returning anytime soon to your home. It was this moment that for the first time you wondered if the academy would change you. It didn’t sit well with you. Thinking that you might forget the hardships you’ve grown up with and turn into some Piltover prissy. So you made the choice to steel yourself against that, you would not forget where you came from and all that you’ve gone through.
To say the Piltover Academy was beautiful would be the understatement of a lifetime. The structure of the main building was so impressive that you felt as though you were staring at some castle that should exist only in a storybook. As you approached the main doors with boxes in hand, Heimerdinger and some other man stepped out to meet you.
“Y/N, welcome to the prestigious University of Piltover. Here you will be able to be a part of the brightest minds of the future! Discovering the newest formulas, building the newest technology, and creating a shining future for all. I’m very excited to see how your nature skills in the medical arts develops while studying here. There are many across Piltover and the Undercity that would greatly benefit from the advancements you possibly find.” Heimerdinger’s welcome speech catching you somewhat off guard.
“I appreciate the warm welcome, Professor.” You smiled at the Yordle, your mood almost feeding off his positive energy.
“Allow me to show you to your new lodgings!”
You began to follow Heimerdinger up the steps, but he quickly stopped and turned.
“Ah yes, where are my manners. This is my assistant, Viktor. He is, in my opinion, one of the brightest minds at this academy. I believe you two will get along quite well.”
You took this time to really look at the man standing next to Heimerdinger. He was a strangely beautiful man, with sharp cheekbones and these amber eyes that you’ve not seen before. The cane in his hand supporting what appeared to be a limp of some kind. He had two beauty marks, one above his lip and below his right eye. Something about him was enticing in a way you’d never really felt for someone.
“A pleasure, Y/N. Heimerdinger has been quite talkative about your showcase. He believes you will have quite the promising future here.”
Oh god… his accent is divine.
It was strange, you felt like you’d perhaps heard one similar to it in the Undercity, but there was no way a man of his intelligence was from there.
“Like wise. I do hope to live up to the professor’s expectations since he thinks so highly!” Your voice having a bit of cheerfulness behind it. It was nice to have someone believe in you so much.
The tour of the school grounds and guiding you to your living space went smoothly and you were able to crack quite a few jokes with Viktor, even earning some chuckles from Heimerdinger himself.
The enforcers dropped off your things and left. Heimerdinger excused himself for a meeting he needed to attend, leaving you and Viktor. It was an awkward silence at first, eventually he spoke up.
“So, you are interested in medicine?”
“Yes. I’ve quite a knack when working with chemicals and am well known in certain areas of the Undercity for my tonics and remedies. I do my best to make decent medicines for the people down there, without the use of Shimmer.”
He nods. An acknowledging look at your refusal to use the cursed purple substance. It wasn’t known only to the Undercity the horrific effects of Shimmer, but it was certainly more strongly felt than on the Topside.
“That is quite commendable. I know medical services are not readily available in the Undercity. I hope for your sake that they show you their gratitude for your help.”
The air stills between the two of you again. You look to Viktor. He seems unlike anyone you’ve ever met. He is a peer who is both an intellect and seems to feel for your situation. It was amazing.
“Well, I should probably start unpacking my things. Thank you, Viktor. It’s been incredible to meet you today!”
As you move to close the door, something wedges itself in. Looking down, you see the bottom of Viktor’s working foot. You open the door again.
“Would you like to have lunch with me this week? I know it can be really intimidating for the first bit of time here. I’d be happy to give you company.”
You smiled widely. Something within your heart jumped in joy at his invitation.
“Absolutely! I’d love nothing more.”
He smiles back and then finally takes his leave. You feel yourself becoming giddy at the mere thought of seeing him once more.
For better or worse, you knew that within this short amount of time, you had made a friend for years to come.
You and Viktor… has a nice sound to it.
In the years that came, the University of Piltover became your home and sanctuary. After finishing some basic classes during your first semester, the school decided that you were good to start some more specific courses. When you were able to sit down and chat with certain members of the academy, you concluded that medicinal chemist was the title and job you were searching for.
It wasn’t long before you were studying day and night the ins and outs of chemical compounds and their effects for use within pharmaceutical drugs. You were top of most every class you attended. You never missed a project or due date. Yet, you were also able to keep a relatively active social life… that being spending most of your time with Viktor and assisting Heimerdinger.
You had made other buddies around the school, but you and Viktor just clicked. From that first day, it was evident that you and he would be stuck together at the hip with how in tune you were with one another. You spent countless hours together doing homework, studying, laughing, having lunch together.
Every day was also another towards your goals. You were slowly coming up with a few theoretical treatments for the toxic air poisoning that the Undercity was experiencing. It might be a while longer before you are fully approved to begin testing, but you were positive that they would put your application through.
The day Jayce joined the academy, you remember believing him to be somewhat… egotistical. He didn’t seem like a bad person, just perhaps a touch full of himself. Viktor didn’t seem to pay him any mind really. So you two went on with your lives, completely unaware of how this one boy would change the courses of your lives.
It was clear to you that while Viktor’s leg issue was a problem, it wasn’t necessarily making him sick or unwell, so you were happy to work around and with whatever he needed.
“Okay, Viktor, what would you say to stopping the studying for today and going for a walk? I feel like if I have to stare at another equation, I’m going to go blind.”
He lets out a chuckle at your dramatics.
“Fine, but nothing too far. We still need to be ready for the test tomorrow. Can’t have you falling behind now, can we?”
You gaff at his comment and give him a playful shove.
The two of you walk decide to go for a walk around the designated green area on campus. Eventually, you sit under the small round pavilion that is placed near the center of the area. Viktor sitting on your right as always, the two of you looking around at the other students passing by.
"Vik?"
"Yes Y/N?”
You let out a small sigh of content and place your head on his shoulder.
“Promise me we’ll always be like this.”
“Like what?”
“Together.”
You heard a positive ‘hmm’ from him and he squeezed your hand, seemingly agreeing with this idea before finally voicing his pleased opinion.
“I promise. Besides, what could possibly make me want to leave you? Who would I correct on a daily basis?”
“Hey!” You lightly punch his arm. His teasing always amused you, though you obviously needed to feign insult for his sake.
The two of you sit there for a couple more hours, with you almost falling asleep leaning against the Professor’s assistant. Feeling more happiness in these moments than you had in your entire life.
It could only get better from here, you were sure of it.
The day Jayce and Viktor discovered Hextech, everything changed, for better or worse. By the time they had finalized the first plans for the Hexgate, you, Viktor, and Jayce had become quite the trio. Though you weren’t specifically a member of their little team, your past experiences working with Viktor led to you being a big help in their lab especially in the beginning.
You did have to put a pause on your own research for a time in order to assist them, but the leap and changes they were developing were so promising that you felt no regret in making such a decision. It really meant a lot to you that Viktor wanted you to be apart of the whole process.
It wasn’t long before Hextech that you had started to realize the true extent of your feelings for your best friend, but during the long hours in the lab and the late nights shared, it became painfully evident to you that Viktor was no longer “just a friend” in your mind. He was something beautifully more. But as with all stories like yours, the fear of losing him in rejection kept you from revealing your hand.
Jayce told you straight up front one night while making a coffee run together that he believed you two had already been dating and honestly your cheeks had never been redder. He was quick to realize that you had some feelings for his friend, though he tried to assure you that Viktor probably felt the same considering all things, you couldn’t make yourself believe it.
There were countless moments working in the lab together where your hands would brush against each other and linger for a moment longer than normal and your heartrate would skyrocket. Or the times when he would put a hand on the small of your back for support when he was looking over your shoulder. His seemingly constant intrusion in your personal bubble. It felt like at times he was far closer than he needed to be.
All these moments spun together in your head forming so many questions with little to no answers.
It was driving you mad.
One day in the lab, Viktor had asked you to come in and help him since Jayce would be away speaking with some investors and the council. You were more than happy to come in. Recently, you’d been able to get back to more of your own research since the boys hired Sky, their new lab assistant. She was a very sweet girl and you liked that this allowed you more time. You’d finally begun to feel the sting of not running your research just in time for the boys to release you from their sides.
You found yourself at the end of a very productive week, so going to help Viktor was not only a welcome break, but also an excuse just to spend more time with him.
You walked through the halls of the academy, making your way towards the lab you’d spent hundreds of hours in by this point. You knew the route so well that you were able to allow your mind to wander without worrying about getting lost.
It was no surprise when your mind quickly wandered onto the thought of Viktor. Everything about him just stunningly wonderful. From the softness of his chestnut hair to the calluses on his hands from working on machines. The way his accent would carry words like a violin being played. Not to mention all his adorable mannerisms and habits, some of which he wasn’t even aware he was doing, such as biting the erasers on his pencils when he wasn’t sure if his equations were working or how he tends to tap his foot without thinking to the point where if you started humming a tune, he would subconsciously tap to it.
You were so lost in thought that you had made it to the lab door in what felt like record time. Blinking you were a little surprised but raised your hand to knock on the door.
“Come in.” The prized accent shouted most likely from his desk.
You opened the door quickly and found, as expected, Viktor at his desk reading through some paperwork. Jayce’s desk sat empty, as he most likely hadn’t been in the entire day.
“Hey hey! Reporting for lab duty.” You said with a bit of a cheery tone.
“Excellent! I needed the help today, and in truth, besides Jayce, you are the only other person I trust to understand what I’m doing here.”
“What about Sky? Isn’t that the whole reason you hired her?” Confused by his comment.
“Ah… yes but she is busy helping Jayce. He is after all her technical employer. But I guess I also just wanted the good company.” He said giving a smile.
You mirror the smile and walk up to the desk to get a better look at the piece. It was one of the Hextech gemstones.
“Alright, so what is the issue today? Is something wrong with the gemstones?”
“No, not exactly. More like we’ve been working to perfect and stabilize them. I just need the extra hands in making sure neither the lab nor myself explode.”
Your eyes go wide. This man…
“Yes, I would very much like to ensure you do not explode. You did make me a promise good sir.” He chuckles at this memory.
“A promise I fully intend to keep, don’t worry. But I need a second pair of hands and eyes since Jayce is out, so come!”
You close the distance and stand next to Viktor. Looking down, the gemstone shines its usual brilliant blue. It took only a second for you to properly realize just how close you two were standing together. Your heartbeat suddenly racing. He didn’t seem bothered by this closeness. In fact, he grabbed your hands and positioned them in a certain way with two reacting devices next to gemstone.
The feeling of his hands on yours was intoxicating. For a moment you wished the world would stop as he kept his fingers on yours for what felt like forever. He slowly brushed over your fingers with his then let go after a few moments.
You let out a breath that in truth you were not aware you were holding. Viktor let out a soft chuckle.
“I know it seems a little outlandish, but there is no reason to be scared. Not while I’m around.”
You hoped to every entity to ever exist that he would not look at your face right now because you were blushing bright enough that some person halfway across the city could see it shining true. You knew this man would be the death of you.
After a couple hours in the lab, you and Viktor (but mostly you due to protesting) decide that it is time to call it a night. You were adamant about seeing Viktor home to ensure he gets some sleep.
“Y/N, I’m not a child, I know how to get home.”
“Oh, I know, but I don’t trust that you’ll actually go home if I don’t see you go yourself. Don’t think it’s escaped my notice that you’ve been staying late at the lab more recently. It’s not good for you, Vik. I’m just worried…”
The playful grin he had been wearing switches to a saddened look. You both knew that there could be consequences to him not taking care of himself.
“I know. I’m sorry, Y/N. I’d never want to worry you, I promise.”
He reaches out and takes your hand in his. He gives it a squeeze and then continues to his door just now in sight. Your heart is fluttering, and, in that moment, half tempted to just yell out that you loved him and then sprint away.
“That’s another promise… you better keep it.” You whisper to yourself.
There is weird twisting feeling in your stomach. You can’t quite place whether it is from being so close to Viktor or if you feel like something bad might happen to him. You hope for the former.
As you two make it finally to his apartments, you notice that the place could use some tidying up, something that you were used to doing whenever you dropped by. Viktor hated it because he didn’t want to bother you, but it was never any trouble.
“Y/N please leave it. I can pick it up later.”
“Oh, sorry I can’t hear you over the mess I’ve already cleaned up with no effort at all.” You smirk at him, and he lets out a small chuckle.
You watch as he moves towards his bedroom, and you wander closer to the designated living room area.
Viktor has never been super big on décor around his space, but it always warmed your heart to see that what he did have was mostly pictures of you and him, some of him and Jayce, and different awards he’s received over the years.
One photo taken of the two of you about 2 to 3 years ago, give or take, catches your attention. You’ve looked at it so many times and yet you’re just now noticing the look Viktor seems to be giving you in it. He’s not smiling at the camera but at the back of your dumb head as you two were enjoying a picnic in a nearby park, having a laugh about some whipped cream that got on your faces.
“Y/N…”
You turn and Viktor is standing right behind you. Almost too close for comfort, not that you’re going to complain.
He was staring at the picture you were admiring, then his gaze came back to meet your eyes. In this moment, it’s hard to read exactly what he might be thinking. He doesn’t back off and he doesn’t break eye contact.
“You know… that’s one of my favorites. I think about that day a lot.” You blink as he begins explaining.
“Why? If you don’t mind my asking.”
He let out a soft chuckle.
“I never mind when you ask… it’s because it was a perfect day. I felt really well that day, and it was sunny and just warm enough that we didn’t sweat outside while we ate. The sunshine was so brilliant, the way it shone off your hair…” He says as he lifts a hand to run through the ends of your hair.
“The food was good too, but the best part was you. The best part of any day of mine is you…”
You were stunned. Your heart was racing faster than anything, you could hear it clearly and you were almost afraid you wouldn’t be able to hear the most amazing things coming from Viktor because it would drown him out.
This man, your best friend of many years now, was basically confirming everything that you had hoped would be true. That he not only cared for you, but in the same way you did for him. Nothing, and yet everything, felt real.
“I hope… I do not risk too much in confessing this to you. I have in truth been teetering back and forth on whether I should tell you, because the last thing I would wish is to lose you over unrequited feelings. In fact, I completely understand if you don’t feel the same. I know I’m not up to par to most of the guys who have tried courting you over the years, but I just hope-” You place a hand on his cheek. Running your thumb against his skin.
This was it. This was your moment.
“Viktor, you risk nothing at all. In fact, I didn’t tell you out of fear for the same reason. Vik…”
His eyes widen and his pupils dilate to a point you’ve never seen up close before. He gently holds your face and leans his forehead to yours.
“Then, my dear, I have waited far too long for to do this.”
It was like floating on a cloud, that moment when his lips met yours. The softness mixed with a spot or two of chapped skin. The most amazing moment that you would remember and carry with you until death.
He pulled away slowly after a couple of seconds. The two of you staring wildly into each other’s eyes before returning to one another, this time in full force.
Tongues fighting for dominance in a kiss that was so wanted by both parties that neither was seemingly willing to let the other not be aware of their want.
Eventually, Viktor backed you up against the wall, his cane falling to the ground (not that either of you noticed). He was determined in his attempt to feel you in this moment. To make up for all the times that he failed to tell you just how he felt. It wasn’t hard. Once he’d backed you up, the game was all but over as you gave into him.
Your hands easily found their way to becoming tangled within his hair. His hands traveled south, making to both hold and somehow also pin you in place. His tongue feeling its way through your mouth. You release a small moan and gasp as Viktor is quickly leaving you breathless.
In the second he pulls back to let you breathe, you realize that if you don’t slow down, who knows what would happen right now. Not that you wouldn’t want it, but you know for a fact Viktor needs to rest, as he surely hasn’t properly slept in days.
“Viktor…” You let out a breathy whisper that is his name, but he doesn’t stop. If anything, this has egged him on further, feeling more of you.
You pull back some and place your hands on his chest. You stare at him directly and can see both his panting and hear your own.
“Viktor,” You say far more firmly,” while I am certainly a fan of where this is going, don’t think I’ve forgotten about getting you to bed.”
“Yes, I agree we should go to bed.” He laughs a bit and tries to lean in again.
You playfully slap him on the chest and push him back a touch.
“You know what I mean. You need proper rest if you want to get back to the lab tomorrow. Come on, I’ll stay the night if you’d prefer.”
He smiles, a bright one that never fails to make your heart skip a beat.
“I would prefer that very much.”
You laugh at how comfortably forward he is being.
You pick up his cane and arm in arm guide him to the bedroom again. Once he has sat down on the bed, you return to the front door and ensure it is locked. Upon returning, you see Viktor in the midst of unbuttoning his vest and shirt. You suddenly realize in this moment that not only are you about to spend the night in Viktor’s bed WITH Viktor, but you have just found out that your best friend is in fact in love with you.
You walk up to him and place your hands on top of his and started to unbutton for him. You make sure to make soft and gentle movements, so that it is intimate yet not overwhelming for either of you. Viktor just stares at you with a loving and longing look in his eyes.
As you unbutton the last of his shirt and slide it off of him, you lean down give Viktor a chaste kiss on his forehead, before slipping away to undress yourself enough to sleep well.
You can feel his eyes on you as you do, and you’ve never been so embarrassed and excited.
Once the both of you are ready, you turn out the lights and lay there. For a bit, it feels too new to know what to do, but soon Viktor has scooted closer to you, perhaps because that is what he wanted or because it felt natural, but soon you two found comfort with your arm around his waist and his around your shoulders. The two of your cuddled the night away, quickly and easily falling asleep, giving Viktor the first decent night of sleep he’s had in god knows how long.
This was the start of something new and amazing. You thought back to that funny feeling you had had earlier and decided to attribute it to nerves because after what just happened, nothing could ruin this moment for you. Nothing bad would ever happen so long as the two of you were together, just as you had promised so many years ago.
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(Okay apparently I have bigger brainrot than I thought for "on our side now"/WAT Stalker and Umbra being companions. No I don't care if that fic is years old and thus likely nobody knows what I'm going on about. When I write Warframe these days I write it for me.
Content warning for implied/referenced self harm)
15: Mercy (alt prompt)
He breathes carefully, both to keep the others from noticing and to avoid aggravating the wound through his belly. One hand rests beside it, just beyond the bounds of the healing, sensitive flesh. Close enough to acknowledge the pain, but not so close as to grant the actual wound realness.
He gasps in ragged breaths. His eye is exposed, alongside a swathe of raw, glistening flesh. He has healed it before with a smooth glow of Void magic, but he does not do so this time.
Someone approaches. His breath hitches and his stomach tenses, sending a pulse of pain through flesh and organs that had been impaled on a greatsword weeks ago and still have yet to heal. He snarls in warning; he cannot garner the will to look at whoever it is coming close. They are the enemy. Traitors. Bloodthirsty killers. As is he, because someone must do such horrible deeds, become such a horrible thing.
He looks up at the sound of approaching footsteps, a warframe's quiet, stealthy nature not slipping him by. After all, there's always tells. His eye goes wide, then narrows, working even though it is long sightless and vestigial.
A jar opens. He growls louder, and whoever it is flicks him on the arm for it, changing his growl to a hiss. It's Mag, and she holds before his face a jar of some kind of balm. He turns his head away and she sighs, almost soundless. She taps his shoulder, lets her hand stay there after. She hasn't touched him any more than necessary before.
The killing machine kneels before the old soldier. He has no balm to offer, and is under explicit instruction not to give him hot tea until he's calmed a little more, though the stringent and grassy aroma always seemed to calm him down that last bit. Instead, his hands cup the old soldier's face, careful not to touch the exposed flesh lest it sting.
She leaves him be after a time, but doesn't take the balm with. It sits there, medicinal scent burning in his lungs, taunting him. He reaches for it easily enough, but he cannot seem to so much as dip his shaking fingers into the jar, let alone smear it on both the entrance and exit wound. It hurts, both the wound and his failure to act.
The blind eye stares into him, seems to study the mark cutting through his face in jags and whorls. Slowly, his shoulders begin to sink, and one hand reaches up to almost embarassedly tug at his scarf, wound so tight around his neck it's a wonder it didn't choke him.
She returns after a time and watches him sit there with the open jar in hand, frozen. She approaches again, more cautiously now that he's paying attention, could possibly spring at her. She treats him like he is a wild animal, because she knows in any other circumstance, she would be prey. But once she gets close, she takes the jar from him and dips her fingers in, smearing the balm over the wound. He hisses, and she puts the jar down so she can rest a hand on his shoulder.
The old soldier sighs. Slowly, the golden gleam of Void begins to shimmer around the edges of the wound, his eye closing, the raw flesh knitting together with the Void until there is again naught but a smooth expanse of leathery grey skin.
The balm seeps in, drawing attention to the wound even as it soothes the pain. He shudders, despite all his will to show no weakness. It's too late for that. Ashamed, he submits to her sitting on the edge of the nook, hand on his shoulder, a galaxy spinning thoughtfully in her mask.
His thumbs brush where the old soldiers cheekbones were, once. Maybe still are, warped and twisted by the strain of Infestation that makes them both what they are. One subjected willingly, throwing his life, his body, his will away for the sake of vengeance. One transformed into a son-killing horror, all for caring about other people's children.
She takes a deep breath, squeezes his shoulder.
The killing machine leans in, and the old soldier does, too, until they rest forehead to forehead.
It is a cruel mercy he should never have been given, not for what they all have done, all of them with blood weeping from their hands.
It is what little he can do to try and convey he has been there, he has seen the curtain pulled away and the world revealed as a series of cruelties, yet he has received this most difficult mercy and now he extends it in turn.
She waits until he turns on his side, smears balm on the matching wound on his back, and when he relaxes, lets him rest.
Slowly, the two stand, arm in arm like the old soldier is aged and frail in a way he was never allowed to be, and they set off for the kitchen to make tea they can no longer drink.
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You’re Something Else
Part One // Part Two // Part Three
I’m gonna hope I can post this daily- or near daily, at least!
Prompt: Medieval Demus fanfic? Remus and Roman are both princes and with Roman set to inherit the throne their parents desperately want to see Remus married off, however Remus has the tendency to be picky with potential suitors and has turned them all down thus far. That is until Remus’ newest suitor turns out to be Prince Janus. At first Remus is difficult with him as he is with all his suitors but than Janus starts winning him over slowly. Janus also knows sorcery in this.
Overall Story Warnings: Blood and injuries(varies throughout story), kind of a terrible father, lmk if I need to add anything else!
Masterpost
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Remus over the course of the next week tried to get Janus annoyed, disgust him, to make him leave early. But nothing he did seemed to work. He tried leaving piles of trash in Janus's room, it mysteriously disappeared. He tried to be overly sexual, Janus just smacked him with his cane(not hard enough that it hurt, but enough to get Remus to stop). He had threatened to challenge Janus to a duel and Janus had just laughed and said: "I'd love to see you try."
And Janus, well, Janus just kind of let it happen. What use was there in trying to get Remus to stop when Remus was adamant on trying to get him to leave. Plus, it was fun watching Remus grow frustrated that he wasn't leaving.
And his parents just asked if Janus would stay longer. He agreed, to make them happy, but Remus just groaned in annoyance that this man was as stubborn as him.
Midway through the second week, though, is when things started to get a bit weird. At least for Remus. He had given up on trying to drive Janus away, and instead opted to try and avoid him. It didn't work all the time but Remus was able to avoid him for most of the day by going into the woods, taking a different path each time and sometimes not taking one at all.
Each time he came back, though, there was a few different flowers waiting on his bed. Often they were wilted, but the ones that were still alive were always a bright green. The odd thing was, Remus didn't recognize any of the flowers.
Finally, he had had enough of the flowers and stormed across the hall to Janus's room. Neither of his guards tried to stop him, in fact he was pretty sure he saw them smirking to one another as he pushed open Janus's door.
Janus glanced up in surprise as Remus waltzed in, raising a brow. "May I help you?" He asked. Remus growled softly and tossed all the flowers he had received over the past few days at Janus. Janus still appeared puzzled as he caught them.
"What are you playing at?" Remus crossed his arms as he glared, and Janus blinked. A puzzled look appeared on his face.
"What?"
"The flowers! Why do you keep giving them to me? And where are they from?!"
"Would you prefer I give you something else?" Janus asked, rising to his feet and letting the flowers rest on his bed beside his closed book. Remus looked startled at the sudden closeness. "I figured you'd be interested in them, native to my homeland those flowers, all quite rare. But if you're not, I could always just stop."
Remus bit his lip. "Th... They're rare flowers?"
Janus nodded, walking past Remus to a small bookcase. He grabbed one of the books after briefly skimming the titles, and he passed it over to Remus. Remus looked down at the title in confusion.
Oddities in Nature, Volume II, Flowers.
"It's hard getting them to last so long or even grow in any gardens. Those are the few I've managed to keep alive. But even once they're wilted they still remain useful."
"Useful?"
Janus's eyes widened a bit as he realized what he had said. But the look was fine before Remus had time to process it had even happened. "For uh, medicines. Like this one," he picked up the first wilted flower he had ever given to Remus. "It's nicknamed Moondrop in my kingdom, only blooms under a blood supermoon, and even then just finding the Moondrop is a challenge, so although the supermoon occurs every few years we rarely find one when it does."
"What's it used in?" Remus found himself asking, looking between the flower and Janus.
Janus smiled warmly, genuinely, and Remus hated how his heart skipped a beat.
"A sort of uh... concoction to heal really bad wounds, like stab wounds in the stomach or burns.
"And it works?" Janus laughed lightly at Remus's tone, nodding.
"It does indeed." He tilted his head. "Want to borrow the book?"
"If it's not too much trouble..."
"Don't worry about it." Remus felt himself relax, holding the book closer. He was about to turn and leave when Janus tapped him on the shoulder. "Remus?"
Remus glanced at him, confused. Janus smiled and offered the flowers to him again, somehow they were all arranged neatly in a bouquet. Remus's jaw dropped slightly. "Think you're forgetting something," Janus hummed, slipping the bouquet into Remus's hands.
The next thing Remus knew he was standing in the hallway, Janus's door closed behind him, the book hugged to his chest and the flowers held close as he looked at them with a newfound interest. Remus glanced once back towards Janus's door before heading back to his room to start reading.
-
Janus waited until he heard the sound of another door closing, and he relaxed. Walking back to his bed, he picked up his book; a spell book. He wasn't practicing the spells yet, one of the reasons having just taken place. Remus walking in unannounced.
At home it wouldn't usually matter, since his family knew he was practicing sorcery and would often leave him be so he could concentrate. But it was like this royal family had no regard for privacy. Janus had already seen Orion enter Remus's room uninvited a few times, and Remus entering Roman's the same way. He wasn't going to risk getting caught practicing magic.
To his knowledge, they didn't even know Janus was a sorcerer. Well, he wasn't an official sorcerer technically, but he was practicing and learning and his teacher, Logan, was perfectly content in Janus learning it as a hobby. Besides, you never know when a spell could save your life.
Or someone else's, Janus reminds himself when he glances up and catches sight of the scar along his face and neck. It wasn't Logan's work, Logan wasn't in the kingdom when Janus had been injured in a fire. The sorcerer who did heal him his parents claimed to have died, and Janus had just accepted it. But he did want to learn sorcery after that.
His hand made its way to his cane, and without looking he felt around until his finger brushed over a button. He pressed it and the bottom part of the cane slipped to the floor. Flicking it around, Janus slipped the top part of the cane off as well, setting the piece on his bed as he held his wand, smiling to himself as he ran his fingers over the wood. Maybe he could practice some magic soon, later tonight after dinner. For now, Janus returned to his book, wand in hand but never actually performing any spells.
-
Remus closed the book after a few hours, and he pushed it a bit away from him on his bed. He rested his chin on his hands, brows pulled together as he thought.
This book was definitely an oddity itself, nevermind the plants depicted inside. Remus had only seen a few of them before, and it was a long time ago. The rest he had never even heard of.
Right, native to his land. Remus thought, glancing back to the bouquet sitting near his mirror, the flowers now in a black vase.
The book also showed how to brew the plants to create all sorts of tonics, plus some... graphic... diagrams on what could happen if brewed incorrectly. Now those were fascinating. Some of the things in the book Remus didn't understand, certain phrases that sounded odd when he said them, but he brushed that aside. They were probably things in another language altogether.
Shaking his head, Remus glanced to his window, frowning slightly at how dark it was outside. Had he really been reading for so long?
His eyes drifted to the flowers and he felt himself relax a bit. He supposed it wasn't that bad, reading for a few hours. He wondered if Janus had visited the castle library yet?
Remus shook his head. No, he was not going to start thinking about what Janus might like. He wasn't going to get attached. Surely he could find some way to get Janus to leave, and leave without Remus. He grabbed the book and moved it to his nightstand, climbing off his bed to change into his nightclothes. Pulling the covers over his head, Remus burrowed into his pillows, falling into a relatively calm sleep.
---
Almost another week had gone by. Janus was still living in the castle. Remus was surprised when he realized Janus wasn't leaving his room much outside of meals. Sometimes one or both of the guards would enter the room when the third, Janus's main guard named Ethan(something Remus was very surprised to have learned his name), would ask for them to come help with something. What they were helping with, Remus didn't know.
Sometimes, another book would be left outside Remus's door. Always part of the Oddities in Nature books. And always with a new, strange thing. Janus still gave him rare plants, but he now also started giving Remus little gems that looked boring at first but then would shimmer and cast rainbows on the walls or what looked like blood spatter on the ceiling if angled right.
Remus would return the books by handing them to the guards. Often Ethan. Remus didn't know the names of the other two, they wore helmets that covered all but the bottom part of their faces. A bit unnerving, and it made Remus curious, but he hadn't decided to ask yet.
"Maybe he thinks I'll go to him?" Remus asked his reflection one morning, running a hand through his greasy hair. Well, not as greasy as it normally was. He was making a bit more of an effort to keep it relatively clean.
His mother was happy with the small bit of effort. She was also delighted that Janus had yet to leave. Evelyn believed that Remus would like this one eventually.
Remus hated how she might be right.
There was no denying that Remus was curious about this prince. A bunch of secrets, Janus was, and Remus wanted to learn them all. And he despised that he was fascinated with Janus, finding himself biting back questions he desperately wanted to ask.
Remus never realized how hard staying quiet actually was.
Orion didn't mind Janus. But Remus knew that his father didn't like him as much as he liked Roman. And maybe that was another reason he liked Janus.
He shook his head. He should stop worrying about this, or else the streak in his hair might grow.
Remus grabbed his morningstar along with a small bag of snacks he'd stolen from the cooks. He clipped the bag to his belt and slung the morning star over his shoulder, making his way to the door.
When he walked out, he was surprised to see Janus also leaving his room, cane in hand along with the bag he always carried everywhere except to meals. Janus blinked at him, tilting his head and smiling gently.
"Prince Remus. Going somewhere?"
Remus clenched his morningstar tighter, swaying from side to side as he answered. "Just the woods."
Janus nodded slightly. "Mind if I join you?"
Remus frowned. "I don't know. You don't look like you'd last long where I'm heading."
One of Janus's guards laughed softly, and the other smirked. Remus felt heat raise to his cheeks as Janus rolled his eyes at them. "I can handle myself. Besides, there's some plants I've yet to find in the parts that I have explored and I really need these other plants."
Remus averted his gaze from the brown and yellow one staring at him. He forced his shoulders to relax. "Alright then, it's your funeral."
It really would be, considering where Remus was going was a few miles from the castle where there was rumor of a dragon. It had claimed the lives of some guards and Remus wanted to try and fight it himself, or at least see it. He wasn't going to try and keep Janus safe though, when he would be too busy watching his own back.
Remus turned down the hall without another word, hearing one of Janus's guards tell them to be careful. Janus walked with confidence as he followed Remus, heels clicking against the polished floor a good distraction for Remus. The steady beat kept his thoughts from spiraling, because while Remus might not be inclined to protect Janus... He didn't want to imagine what could happen to him.
One of the guards near the castle entrance stopped them, lifting their helmet to talk to them properly.
"Now where do you two think you're going?" They narrowed their eyes at Remus. "Not going after that dragon, are you?"
Remus smiled sheepishly as they eyed his morningstar. "No one said I couldn't go look at it!"
The guard glared. "That's just as idiotic as trying to fight it, my prince." They looked to Janus. "Surely you know this, Prince Janus."
Janus tilted his head. "It is indeed. Luckily we weren't going to go that way. Prince Remus was going to bring me to this flower he found the other day and we'll be back soon."
They raised a brow. "And he's bringing his morningstar because?"
Janus shrugged, crossing his arms and holding his head high. He was asking them to challenge him as he spoke, Remus realized, watching. "Defense, obviously. There are creatures everywhere in the woods aside from a dragon that could harm us. It makes sense to bring a weapon. Plus, Prince Remus brings it everywhere."
Remus almost pulled away when Janus slipped their arms together, almost tried to argue for Janus to back away. But then he saw the fading confidence in the guard's eyes and found a small smile gracing his face. "Now, can we go?"
The guard sighed, slipping their helmet back into place before stepping back. They walked in step out of the castle and Janus didn't let Remus go until they were out of sight of any palace guards and at an unmarked part of the forest.
"So, a dragon?" Janus hummed as he followed Remus into the brush. There was almost a natural trail, but it wasn't worn enough to really be considered a pathway. Janus noted the many broken branches where the guards probably walked without care, slashing their way through the lush part of the forest. Remus spared a glance his way before turning his attention back to the ground.
"You can always turn back."
"No, I still need those flowers. And I'd like to at least try and find them."
"Are they worth a run-in with a man-eating dragon?" Remus asked, glancing up at the barely visible sky. The canopy is already very thick, the trees standing tall and prouder than Remus has ever stood. He remembers one day when he had tried to climb one, fell, and broken his arm upon landing.
Remus was startled when Janus laughed. It was soft and Remus's heart jumped into his throat as Janus quieted. "I'm afraid to disappoint, but dragons aren't man-eating. Territorial, yes. But they don't eat humans."
"They kill them." Remus pointed out, watching Janus out of the corner of his eye as Janus walked beside him. Janus was keeping his eyes on their surroundings, just in case he did spot one of the plants he needed.
"Some. Most don't. This one must have built its den close to where those guards found it, if it killed them. Or they provoked it. Dragons will kill if pushed over the edge."
Remus frowned. "How do you know so much about dragons?"
Janus swung his cane slightly, moving it so it didn't touch the ground. "They're common where I'm from. You've gotta know about them or else you might end up six feet under."
"They're common?!"
Janus chuckled at Remus's astonishment. "Yes. Very common. It's hard to go anywhere without spotting one. Their dens are further away from us humans but the dragons like the free food and stealing things for their hordes."
Remus bit his lip. He was going to regret this.
Drawing his morningstar closer so it wouldn't hit anything, Remus sighed softly. "Can you tell me some other things about your kingdom?"
Janus tilted his head, smile twisting into a small smirk. "Oh, finally interested?"
Remus huffed, closing in on himself a bit more. "Nevermind."
Janus chuckled. "No, no. I'm sorry. Anything you want to know in particular?"
———————–
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#dukeceit#demus#romantic dukeceit#janus sanders#remus sanders#sanders sides#ts sides#ts janus#ts remus#tw injury#tw blood#(gonna tag in every chapter)#you're something else#amberskywrites#ambersky#(ask to tag)
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Mental Squall
Inaudible whispering caused Requal to join the realm of the conscious. As she opened her eyes, the whispering vanished, and silence filled her ears. She slowly sat up on a medical cot in the infirmary, no one else to be seen in the large room. She looked out the nearest window as a dove cued in the windowsill, having made a nest in the alcove, and only being slightly startled by Requal’s sudden movement. Morning’s light bled through tree branches onto her face. She smiled at the sight for a few seconds before she started to recall why she was there. She looked at the bedside table and saw her clothes and equipment neatly folded and placed on the table, which caused her to notice the long white dress she was wearing. It was soft to the touch, and she found the dress had druidic and clerical ruins formed in the lace that edged the collar, the short sleeves, and, after pulling aside the blanket that covered half her body, the bottom of the skirting. The ever-curious student had always been graced with getting out of her explorations and endeavors without injury, so she was naive in personal experience, but nothing of the sort had been used while treating her brother, she noted. While Requal admired the detail of the lace, she found bandages placed and wrapped around her legs, red marks staining the center of each. Bandages? When healing spells and medicine are the common solutions? Not a good sign. She noticed they speckled her legs at different points going up to just above her kneecaps. She tried to peak under one of the bandages and promptly felt pain, and blood started to run down her calf. She gasped a little from the stinging sensation and immediately put the bandage back. As soon as the bandage was placed properly again, the pain went away instantly. If it wasn’t for the bandages gaining more red color, she wouldn’t have guessed she was hurt at all.
The smaller door, near the front of the room and on the adjacent wall of the Main Hall doors, opened slowly, Reya came out with a package of new bandages. Upon seeing Requal, Reya gave a soft smile. “Good, I’m glad to see you’re awake.”
Requal nodded but stayed quiet as Reya made her way to the bed and started to replace the bandages. As before, when the bandages were shifted or removed, the pain emerged. Requal gasped each time that one had to be removed, but she watched Reya as she went, who was surprisingly fast and adept at it replacing the bandages.
Reya noticed Requal watching intently. “It looks like you were wounded somehow during the headmaster’s battle with the minotaur. I think it might be shards of bone, but I can’t be certain. I don’t want to risk the wounds getting bigger and bleeding to intensify for me to try and locate whatever might be in there.”
“It can’t be healed?” Her voice was raspy, she presumed from all the yelling she had done in the vault.
Reya shook her head. “I tried healing the headmaster’s wounds, but they seem to open back up or just get worse. The most I can do is stop the pain and stem the bloodflow at this point. Luckily for you, the wounds are small enough that bleeding out likely won’t happen unless you go a very long time without a transfusion, or have the bandages off for too long.” Requal then looked at Reya with worry, and as Reya finished the last bandage and looked over at her patient, she recognized the concern. “The headmaster is full of surprises. He will live, he’ll just be leaving red fingerprints till we can find a way to heal both of your wounds,” said light-heartedly, in hopes to keep Requal’s spirits up.
Requal felt no such comfort, only guilt, frustration and a feeling of helplessness she knew all too well. Her head fell and she started to tear up. “I just messed things up again...”
Reya sat down in a chair next to Requal and put a hand on her shoulder. “Despite whatever had happened down in those ruins, it wasn’t intentional, and I have faith the headmaster will be able to fix it.”
Requal’s hands curled into fists. “You don’t get it! I needed to get into the vault! It was my decision!”
Reya was taken aback by the sudden outburst, retracting her hand from Requal’s shoulder.
Requal lifted on of her hands up a few inches and slammed it back down against her thigh. “Everything I do is wrong! Everyone close to me gets hurt!”
Reya was quiet for a few seconds. “I know I’m new to the school, but I am the school healer now. Maybe…if I can’t ease your wounds, would you like me to try and help ease your mind?”
The comment took Requal off guard. Was she asking if she could talk with her? Why would she care? She put her and the headmaster’s lives in danger in her pursuit. As that thought settled, she realized if she agreed, Reya would be the first person she would have confided in at the school, only her brother and her mom.
Requal had been silent, tears on the precipice of her eyes, for roughly 10 seconds before Reya noted, “You don’t have to if you feel uncomfortable, I just want to try and understand.”
Requal’s mind continued to wage war with itself over the idea.
Reya gave Requal another half a minute before she patted Requal softly on the student’s nearest hand, slowly getting up from her chair. As she reached the end of the bed, though, her left wrist felt like it was being grabbed. It was a gentle, warm sensation, like being held by a warmed cloth. She turned to look at her wrist to find a faint ethereal silhouette of a hand, a dull shimmer from a soft red mist forming its features. She followed the “arm” back to Requal’s hand, the mist swirling slowly around her hand, in the same position of the phantom hand. Tears slipping down her face as her eyes still couldn’t connect to Reya’s. Reya gave a soft smile, let the shaded ephemeral hand lead her back to the chair, and she sat, looking at Requal in silence.
It took five minutes. “Things weren’t always this bad...”
________________________________________________________________
There once was a young girl who lived with her family on the edge of town. Her father was a firm but loving father, serving king and country as part of the Royal Guard. He was paid well for his loyalty, and provided for the family. Her mother, kind and affectionate towards all, grew fruits, vegetables, and flowers in addition to her beloved children. She would use the food to help feed the family, and what was left over could be sold at the local market. The girl’s brother, her only sibling, was a number of years older, but had a free spirit the girl only dreamed of having one day. He would make leaves and twigs dance in the wind to play with his sister, having new games to play with her every time he returned from school. The family was not wealthy, but were content, they found happiness in each other.
One day, the father was called away. Rumor told of a potential attack on the king, and the entire Royal Guard was called to the courts. The father kissed his family goodbye, promising to return with gifts from the capitol, and that it shouldn’t be long before he returns to protecting the village again with his comrades. Days passed into weeks, and no letters came. The mother continued to sell what she could from her garden while still making sure the daughter and herself were fed, using funds the family saved to pay for other foods they needed. The mother stayed hopeful, but the little girl knew her mother well, and would see her pacing in the garden at night out of worry when she too couldn’t sleep. The girl would help her mom tend the garden, and they would still find ways to play in the garden. The brother would visit more frequently, playing with the girl, and would also help their mother work on expanding the garden for food storage and to sell at the market.
After forty days and nights passed, a soldier arrived at their house, but it was not the father. The girl watched her mother break down in the garden from the house window. She didn’t go outside due to the man not having worked in the village, but after he left, she ran out to hug her mom. She asked her mom what happened and what the strange man had said. The mother collected herself enough to give a smile, saying that the man wasn’t bad, but was a part of the guard at the capitol. She explained the father had finished his duty in service of the king, but was going to visit his parents. The mother reminded her that her father’s parents lived far away, and that her father would be gone for a long time. The little girl was confused, but the mother said he had sent word that he loved them dearly, and hoped to one day see them again. The little girl didn’t understand why he had to go away, and her mother reassured her that they would see the father again, but that the little girl and her brother would have to help out more till they could see their dad again. The girl agreed that she would help however she could so she could see the father again. The mother and little girl cried together in the garden, but eventually returned inside and slept till morning. A few days later the brother returned, and was met by the mother. She told him of what happened, and when they came to the garden where the little girl was, and they embraced each other, all three promising to do their best to help each other till they could see the father again.
A few days later a tall man with dark hair and elegant clothes came to visit with her brother. The little girl was hesitant to greet her brother until her mother explained that he was her brother’s teacher. He was a kind man who, after having a side conversation with her mom, helped the family with their gardening, had brought food for the family to use, and even played with the little girl and her brother while her mom watched from her garden chair. The little girl was so happy that she asked if the man could come play again soon, and the man agreed, patting her head and left to return to his school. The girl then asked her mom why she was crying as the man left, and her mother said that she was glad the brother’s teacher was such a generous man.
As the days went by, the family tried to continue as usual, and when they went to the market, they found the people in the town to be worried, concerned and attentive to her, her mother and her brother. They helped how they could, and even people the little girl had never met were asking if she needed anything, and other children offering to play. She gained many new friends, her mom seemed very happy, and they got a lot of new things for the house and the garden. The girl still felt bad, and there were days her mom would break down, but the days were better, and her mother began to smile again.
Time went on, and the family was able to keep their house, as well as feed themselves. The little girl and her mother worked hard to pay for their needs. One day, the girl had finished her chores before her visiting brother, and asked her mom if she could walk in the forest near the house. This was not unusual, as the girl loved to explore, still wishing to be like her brother. The mother agreed, as she usually did, but reminded the girl, as always, to not stray too far from the house. The girl agreed, and left for the woods behind their house. She ran around the trees, knowing well the path she took, leading to a clearing in the woods. In the usually open clearing, stood a man, dressed in strange clothes, mumbling to himself in a trance. The little girl, curious by the man, asked him if he was feeling well. The man shook his head, gave a silly face, and said that he had never felt this good in millennia. The little girl laughed, finding his funny face & strange behavior entertaining. They both chatted for a long time. The man talked about strange things the girl couldn’t understand, but always found ways to make her laugh. He used magic like her brother, and with it they played many strange games. After a time the little girl realized the light was leaving the sky, and she needed to return home. She offered for the man to come visit her family, and the man agreed.
The little girl led him back to the house and introduced him to her mom. Her mom greeted him happily despite his weird appearance and presence, but her brother, who was visiting at the time, seemed wary of the man. The girl helped her mom while the man danced and laughed around the garden, watched by the girl’s brother, until dinner was ready. While they ate happily, the man carrying on about fantastical things he had seen in his adventures. About strange worlds and strange beings, all things that the family had never heard of before. He would suddenly speak gibberish half-way through his sentences, causing the little girl to giggle, her mother to smile, and the son seemed to calm a little. At the end of the meal, the man complimented the mother on her cooking, and complimented the family. He noted that he would offer them a chance at a boon, and pulled out from his pockets a set of dice. He rolled the dice on the table, and the strange man frowned. He snapped his fingers, and the brother’s legs disappeared from the knees and below, while the mother immediately fell ill, her mouth turning red. The daughter, who saw what happened to her mother and brother leaped from the table, running to her mother’s side. The man got up and reached a hand out and stroked the little girl’s cheek. He said to her that he had given the brother the gift of limitation, for him to learn to overcome, and her mother the gift of hardship, to learn how to be more resourceful. The girl was in tears and asked what he was going to do to her. He stated that he had already taken her self-worth, to help her learn to be cautious in a world so cruel. In his other hand the held three crystals now, and after removing his hand from her cheek, said some magic words and the crystals fused to a black crystal ball. He placed it on the table and stated that it would help them in the future. He started humming a tune as he left the house, walking away into the woods again, but not before defeating some town guards that had come at the behest of the little girl’s neighbors. The man was never seen, or heard from, again.
________________________________________________________________
“...And that’s the story of how I ruined my brother’s life,” Requal’s voice began to trail off. “And how I became the worst sibling in existence.”
During the story Reya had gotten both Requal and herself from the corner of the room where fresh water flowed on a magical cycle, a small apothecary, a kettle and a tiny fireplace could be found. She had finished her tea, and Requal hadn’t touched hers, lost in the story she was telling. It took a little time for her words to formulate, but she finally responded. “It’s awful what transpired those years ago, and a terrible burden on your shoulders.”
Requal’s tears had dried up during the story, and now only held self-contempt as she now looked out the window, ignoring the scenery and instead at the faint reflections from herself in the glass. “This is the part where you either tell me I should’ve known better than to talk to a stranger, let alone lead them to my house. That, or try and comfort me by telling me it’s not my fault, despite it being entirely my fault the mage tortured all of us, not just me.”
Reya didn’t let the misplaced-anger-turned-curtness impact her response; a calm caring tone. “What have you learned so far?”
That was a first for Requal, and she didn’t turn back till after disclosing the different attempts. “Moderate restorative magic was the most potent magic used, and that grew back his knees, but nothing further despite continual treatments. The next most effective was the healing because of the cuts and wounds he had, but it hasn’t done anything to help him get back his legs. They tried transplanting legs, but the transplants didn’t work, the legs were limp all throughout the process, attaching to removal. Finally there was curse-breaking magic, since the order determined the mage might have cursed my brother to never regain his ability to walk. Not only did it not work, the cleric assigned to perform the cleansing had his hands vanish from his body. No blood, no pain, just like it was never there at all. Just stumps.”
Reya sat back and thought about the matter for a minute. That was a curse beyond curses. Most curse at worst weaken the person trying to break a curse, more often rebuffing them, but even then, those are some of the strongest laid by known civilized cultures. Then it clicked and she sat forward again. “So is that why you were so eager to search the vault? Seeing if there was a demonic way to break the curse?”
Requal nodded, looking back down at her knees as tears started to form again. “I know it was dumb and reckless, but it’s the best shot I had at finding something. When that man showed up on campus, talking to us about us gaining knowledge and power beyond our dreams if we helped him get to the vault, it was too good to be true, but with Wynd’s condition getting worse, what choice did I have?”
Reya looked at her hands for a few seconds before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “It was a reckless decision, which ended with a bad outcome, but it did come from a desire to help. It doesn’t erase what happened, but it’s understandable why you did what you did.” Reya’s head lifted before she asked, “Would you mind if I shared some of this with the headmaster? I don’t know all, or if, he even knows about the matter.”
“He knows about the incident with the mad sorcerer, but he hasn’t checked up on me or my family in months. He doesn’t even know about the infection or mom’s troubles affording the treatments for Wynd. Being a mediator for the war has kept him busy over the past couple months, and he’s been in his office for most of the time he’s been back on the grounds.”
Reya sat quiet, thinking about the situation. Alister would determine what was to happen to Requal, but something had to be done about the situation. She wasn’t versed in curses, only in how to discern them when working with a patient. But something came to her. “Is there a blacksmith on campus?”
Requal, once again confused by the sudden seemingly random question, responded “N-not on campus, in the nearby village. He has a student here as a second, goes by the name ‘Nebacca’. I’ve never met him, so I don’t know his full name. I think the smith’s family name is Wrenzan.”
“Good. I’ll track him down and have him take me to his mentor,” Reya muttered to herself. When she looked up she saw Requal’s still confused expression, and mentally reminded herself to not mutter around people. “Sorry. I have an idea that might work as an alternative till we can get a professional cursebreaker in to see your brother. One of my mentors had a theory a few years back that he was going to collaborate with me on, given my talents relating to the field. We hadn’t been able to get together due to work so far, but if this is something your brother’s willing to try, it might make it so he can have his mobility back.”
SHE’D NEVER EXPECT IT.
“How? As of now any way to heal him has either failed, or backfired severely, nothing else will work.” Requal was hesitant to believe any solutions at this point, but was willing to hear out the idea of someone who had helped save her from being a scorched snack for that beast.
“It would require making false limbs for him and powering them somehow. I would need to talk with my mentor, but it might be able to work. Would you be willing to let me talk with your mom and brother about it?”
WE NEED BLOOD, CHILD.
Requal pretended to look like she was thinking as she tried to quiet the voices, running her left hand slowly through her hair. After a few seconds, “Sure I guess.”
“Ok. I’ll reach out to him and see if he can come to help me with working out specifics. But it will take time, and you have a meeting with the headmaster after you’ve rested and are in better shape.”
Requal nodded solemnly, looking like she was being reminded of having an appointment with the executioner.
Reya gave a weak smile and got up. “How about I get you some food? It’s been a while since the fruit, and it’s past lunch. What would you like?”
BLOOD!
“I’ll take anything.”
Reya reached over and put her hand on Requal’s shoulder for a few seconds before turning and heading to her office, saying as she went in, “I had made a ham, broccoli and cheese soup yesterday. It turned out well, I’ll warm some for you.”
Requal didn’t have the heart to tell her that she didn’t have an appetite, with the voices talking about blood and whatnot. She also wasn’t going to risk Reya finding out about the voices and have claims of demonic possession put on her. It would go away after a while, right? Requal quickly put on as much of her original clothes as possible over top the white dress. Afterwards she collected the rest in her arms and gave a small chant, immediately becoming invisible. She left via the main entrance of the infirmary, not even the door making a sound as it opened and closed.
Reya returned to the room with two bowls of soup on a tray, only to find the infirmary bed empty, Requal’s items gone. She gave a brief sigh and set the tray on a stand near the bed and slowly began changing the sheets when the main doors opened again, giving their usual creaking and stained sounds from years of use. Through the doors came a 18-year-old boy in a damaged sparring outfit and a kite shield on his back carrying a 17-year-old boy, shirtless, torn pants of the same kind, and injuries all over his upper body. The older one she didn’t recognize, but the younger... “Get him over to that bed.” She pointed to the bed next to her as she ran into her office to grab supplies. When she came back the younger boy was laying on the bed and the older one, standing nearby. As Reya reached the bed she looked and saw a lot of minor, albeit large lacerations and bruises not only covered his chest, but his legs and face too. “Good gods Adam, what happened to you this time?”
“J-just...m-my luck,” Adam said weakly, with a small smile on his face.
She brushed his moppy light brown hair aside so she could get a better look at his eyes, and all appeared normal, she rolled her index finger in a bowl filled with a powder, and tapped the side of the bed where a ritual circle was carved into the wooden frame. A flash of blinding light, and as it receded, Adam was now only in a white set of shorts, ruins still present around the edges, and the scarf. Reya examined all the wounds and went to work. “Thank you for bringing him...”
“Denver, ma’am. Denver Harken.”
“Thank you, Denver, I can take it from hear.”
“A-actually,” Denver hesitantly approached the bed. “Would it be ok if I stayed? I want to make sure me mate’s ok, and if I can be of any help, I’d be at your beck-and-call.”
Reya paused momentarily and looked up at Denver, curious.
Adam quietly stuttered, “H-he wants t-to learn h-how to be a c-combat m-medic someday.”
Reya, not having broken eye contact with Denver, smiled and nodded. “Sure, but you get to tell me what happened to Adam here, ok? Stay quiet otherwise.”
Denver gave a hesitant but genuine smile and pulled up a chair of his own. “So, it’s gonna sound daft, but what happened was...”
________________________________________________________________
Requal quickly made her way through the halls, heading for her dorm as quick as possible. As she passed through the halls she came across the practice fields and was halted only by a small explosion of ice that had landed not feet from a young man she had passed a few times in the halls. He was blasted a few feet from the explosion, and shards of ice cut into his armor. His sparring partner was far enough away that the shards bashed off, but he ran to his friend, and the professor overseeing the training ran over as well. Professor Xenoroth, the head of the field and defense classes, made sure the two were on their way to the infirmary before sprouting reptilian wings and flying up to the castle bridge where the initial projectile had come from. Requal hurried on before she potentially got mixed into the incident. She heard stories and rumors of the professor having a draconian fury when angered that matched the scales on his skin and spikes running down the back of his neck, and didn’t want to see firsthand.
MMM, FRESH VICTIMS.
Requal staggered, gripping her head, and wincing as the voices throttled her mind with pain. Some of the items she was holding fell out of her arms.
A small set of hands raised the shirt and a few daggers that had fallen out of her hands, neatly folded.
Abruptly the pain and voices subsided. As Requal’s eyes opened again, she saw a boy, no older than 9 with muddy brown hair with emerald green eyes, gazing up at her. Despite her spell still in effect, his expressionless eyes kept contact with her. Only when the boy brought his arms up closer to her did Requal gingerly take the items from the boy’s hands. She mouthed ‘Thank you, Arden.’
The boy’s eyes shimmered green momentarily, and beside him a form slowly appeared. The figure was forming from a purple mist with what appeared to be stars shimmering within. The form shaped itself into that of a fully grown velociraptor, the mist dissipating as the shape took final form. The reptile was fully formed, clicking and making subtle noises, but shown no inclination towards doing anything aside staying next to Arden. The boy looked away towards the woods and slowly began to walk towards them, putting a hand on the velociraptor’s side, who followed in toe.
Requal watched the boy and his summoned companion walk through the tree line, feeling simultaneously content with how infrequent her run-ins with Arden were. She knew he was an odd kid ever since he appeared at the academy, but he always behaved strangely. Him not talking and manifesting beasts of all kinds at random didn’t help his case either...
No matter. Requal continued to her dorm room unimpeded from that point on. She made her way up into the girls’ dorms, which was at the end of a long hallway. Requal walked through the filter barriers, as well as the wall of Silence that was ever-present around the dorms, and she walked up to the door. It appeared ordinary, but the grain slowly contorted into the shape of an elegant woman, adorned in a regal ball dress with dress slippers, as the student approached.
Phelorian Wine. Requal pictured the bottle in her mind in addition to the words.
The lady on the door appeared to smile and give a bow to Requal. As the woman stood up, cradled in one arm was the outline of a bottle of wine. The lady began to unravel as the grain lines returned to their original positions, and the door unlatched. Requal walked through the door, and found herself standing in a large, circular room, stairs spiraling up to different doors, but with no railings. She casually walked off the edge, not falling but stepping onto the invisible platform. She walked to the center of the gap, and with the Silence spell no longer effecting her, whispered “Benjile berries.” All the other doors vanished, and ahead of her a door materialized on the other end of the platform. She walked over to the door, opened, and walked in. Her room had been just as she had left it; her bed slightly made, bookshelves overflowing, her germs getting sunlight in the window, and the counter tops littered with different powders and components for different rituals. She went over to a cupboard next to the counter and pulled out some jerky to eat while she put away her things. The voices slowly started whispering again, and her head started to ache again, but she touched a little amount of the blue powder that was formed into a crude circular shape, waiting to be formed into her ritual homework. She touched the powder to her tongue, and after washing her hands in the bathroom, he headache had subsided. The voices remained despite the pain relief, but it had diminished to a dull roaring in her brain. Requal began to hypothesize about the link between mental pain and the voices, and if so, she’s not dealing with insanity, but instead a possession? A parasite? A parasitic psionic possession?
Requal groaned in frustration. No matter what it was, she wasn’t equipped for it, and didn’t know anyone who would be...
“Except...maybe the headmaster...”
She started beating herself up about the matter, but shook herself out of it and decided to take a shower. Maybe if she wasn’t as messy and disgusting as she felt, it might improve her outlook of what was to come. She gathered a fresh set of clothes and went into the bathroom. She turned on the upper faucet to the shower as a stream of warm water ran out of a wooden nozzle that Requal could never determine to truly be a cut root of a tree, or just had a similar appearance. She stepped into the moss-covered flooring in the stall and felt refreshed as the water hit her. She began cleaning herself, but her thoughts about what possible results of the meeting with the headmaster could be. The returning result was expulsion, with deviations to being turned into the Fenral guard, and getting academic probation. The probation was wishful thinking, she determined, but she doubted that the headmaster would be malicious enough to have her jailed. But she loosed an ancient evil, that, with it’s ilk, almost razed the entire world. That isn’t something you just get thrown out of school for.
Requal’s brain cycled these stances as she stained into blank space ahead of her until...
Scrape.
Requal looked down at her scrub and hand as blood streamed out onto them, and as the soap seeped into the wound. The first bandage on her leg shrank and withered on the moss.
“Oh no-” she got out before gasping. The sting of the soap mixed with the pain of the open wound, flooding into her mind despite the painkillers’ effectiveness at dulling a portion of it.
WE WANT BLOOD! WE WANT BLOOD!!
The voices came back quickly after, and Requal quickly grabbed a towel nearby and wrapped it tight around the wound. As she got out of the shower. She quickly got dressed and knew she had to go try and see the headmaster if she had any shot of getting the voices out of her brain. She quickly got dressed, careful not to break any more of the other bandages. She rushed out of her room and emerged in the hallway, taking off towards the headmaster’s office.
As she rushed around a corner, she brushed past her friend Vivian. Vivian was surprised, but was excited, which was a notable rarity.
“Ray! I’ve been loo-“
Before Vivian could get any more out, Requal had continued briskly forward. Vivian, confused started to follow. “R-Ray?!”
Requal stopped abruptly.
KILL.
Requal slowly grabbed one of the knives on her clothing, and tears coming down her eyes as she realized what was happening.
DO IT. KILL HER!
She regained her faculties and control just as her body had turned sideways and in motion to fling the knife directly at her friend. She flung her hand down to change the course, a knife burying itself into the cobblestone floor, and the tormented Requal fled as fast as she could down the corridors. Vivian stopped in her tracks when the knife was thrown to the ground, but when Requal disappeared, she came over and picked up the knife. She examined it and looked where Requal had disappeared.
“Ok, well if you didn’t want to talk all you had to do was say so...” Vivian took the blade as she went to her next class.
Requal continued to rush through the tower as quickly as her leg would allow her without creating too much pain. She didn’t encounter anyone between there and her destination.
As she reached the office, she noticed the door was open, and knocked on the doorframe.
“Headmaster?”
No response. She walked in and winced as the voices pounded in her head, the medicine wearing off. She staggered through the room to the balcony, where she promptly lost what little was in her stomach. The pain didn’t help with the following nausea, and her thoughts began to get hazy. She staggered back to the wall next to the balcony doorframe. She was breathing heavy, as loud as the voices were getting.
YOU WILL GIVE US BLOOD, SOON. THE BLOOD OF THE WOLF.
Her body once again moved on it’s own, casting a spell she knew, but in a different way. Words she didn’t know spilled out of her mouth, and veil of glistening fabric appeared above her, draping over her, and nothing could be heard or seen besides the voices in her head, making her scream in a silent space.
SLEEP, PAWN. SOON YOU WILL EXTRACT WHAT I DESIRE.
Requal passed out from the pain shortly after, till voices woke her again.
Sorry this took so long to get out, so many more things going on that I couldn’t post till now. Hope everyone enjoys ^_^
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May 8th - Lyn's Writing Event - Thorin
Prompt - Sanctuary
A/N: I treated this as another setting... Opps.
Summary: Thorin thinks he's died when a beautiful woman is taking care of him.
Warnings: nsfw themes? No real smut. Fluff? A bit of angst...
His whole body was cold and stiff. Pain radiating from his thigh through his whole body, icing over his veins with frozen fire. He kept hallucinating, feeling wave after wave of hysteria creeping. He was dying, this he knew.
Where he was, he didn't. Somewhere warm and inviting. Whispers of many voices rang, confusing him. Sometimes he could pick the words out of it, but it was so hard to focus and nothing made sense.
He can feel the cold sweat rolling down him. The only thing that cut through the pain, that grounded him was the warm, soft hands that caressed his face. He was dreaming, he knew it. No creature could be so beautiful. Such innate beauty didn't exist in this world. He would be meeting Mahal soon, maybe Yavanna had come to guide him into the halls of Aüle.
It felt like he was falling through his haze for ages. This fumble of images and colors must be death. There was no way this cozy room was the last destination.
When the room shimmered in dizzily, Thorin groaned as the pain still wrecked his leg, but the ice didn't stretch through him like it had before. Instead, he twisted, regretting it when his head screamed in protest.
The woman humming in the corner, curled into a big cozy arm chair, glanced up from her stitching to look ay him. Her humming stopped upon seeing his eyes gaze at her in confusion. She was still just a beautiful bathed in this candlelight as she was when she was surrounded by ethereal light of another world. "Water?" She asks him softly.
He winces when he tries to speak, finally croaking a low, "yes." She reaches beside herself to settle her needlework down. Then she scoops up a waterskin and moves toward him. She cradles his head and he feels his head throb as she slowly aids him in drinking.
When he's had his fill, he is lowered back onto the pillow. She murmurs in a delicate voice, "rest." And he complies.
The next time he woke, she was mixing medicine in a bowl, grinding it quietly. "I thought death would be easier," he groans. It earns him a chuckle.
"Nothing is easy." When she turns around, she's moving closer. She sinks onto the little bed beside him with a wicked grin. Thorin realizes he is very much naked. The soft fur covering the important bits. "It's good your not dead yet."
"I'm not?" He asks Yevanna, confused.
"No," she chuckles, "you've fought through the worst of it. I've never seen someone come through festering that bad. But then again, I've never healed a dwarf before." He barely felt her gentle hands on him, pulling the packing from his leg. He winces but holds through.
"You are not Yevanna..." It makes her giggle and beam.
"No, darling." Thorin felt confusion filling him as she repacked his wound. He'd never had such a gentle touch when it came to healers. Oín was so rough, this was a treat.
"How long have I been here?"
"A few weeks. You should drink." She used the washing basin near by to clean her hands quickly before reaching the water skin for him. Water yet again tastes better than it ever has. He's still exhausted as she lowers him back down.
"Who are you?"
"It's not important. You need more rest." Thorin closed his eyes, sinking against her fingers gently brushing the hair from his face. He gave a soft rumble, not wanting to fight the gentle caress of her hand.
The third time he woke, she wasn't there. Still he lay within this tiny, cozy room. There was someone there however. A prepubescent boy hung over him, tilting his head curiously at him. "Oh, you're awake!" He gasps excitedly. Thorin probably glowers at him, disgruntled.
"Lady Katherine says we shouldn't bother you, but we weren't!" Thorin looks and sees a second boy, a little younger. Thorin manages to push himself onto his elbow slowly.
"Where is she?" Thorin demands. The two boys grin.
"She had to go with our Nan."
"Orcs attacked the next town. They're bringing the injured to the sanctuary." One of the boys climbed up on a stool and eyed some of the herb jars curiously.
"Sanctuary?" Thorin asks and reaches for the waterskin that had been left within reach for him.
"This used to be the home for a noble family, Lady Katherine is the last of her family so she turned it into a sanctuary to help the sick."
"She's really nice."
"And pretty."
"So pretty." The opening of the door has them all looking. Lady Katherine stood there, unamused as the two boys grin sheepishly.
"I told you boys not to be in here." They duck there heads and move beyond her hurriedly. "Go help your Nan. Go on." She shakes her head and moves toward him, smiling softly at him.
"Katherine," he rumbles and it makes her smile softly. She moves closer, settling beside him.
"How are you feeling, Master Dwarf?"
"Alive." She smiles at him.
"Would you like to sit up fully, eat something?"
"Aye." He replies and with her cool hands help push him up by his back. He adjusts the blankets, her touch stirring him uncomfortably. It makes her chuckle and the king blushes. "I apologize, Lady Katherine. It is not honorable for me to-"
"Nonsense. I know there isn't much control you have over that part of you. Besides, it's not as if you have not asked to warm my bed." Thorin's eyes widen.
"I did not!" His response makes her laugh.
"You were under the duress of an infection. Though, your constant comparison of me to Yevanna and the poetry you recited to me was quite the touch." Thorin groaned into a palm. So apparently Kíli wasn't the only Durin to have a reaction such as that to festering. "You're quite charming it would seem."
"It is unbecoming of me." She smiles at him, rather mischeviously and stands.
"Well, Master Dwarf, I should be getting you something to eat." She stands and he's certain the brush of her hand on his thigh is purposeful. She moves to the door, pausing. "Master Dwarf?"
"Aye, my lady?"
She sends him a filthy smirk. "I was perfectly capable of keeping you clothed you know..." That was an invite if there ever was one and she swept from the room.
@tomisbaeholland
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DWC 2020 - Day 11
May not be suitable to some readers, viewer discretion is advised.
Passion
Post Warlords of Draenor, pre Legion prepatch
Curled up on the floor at the foot of her bed, wearing the same rags she's been in for four days, she didn't want to cope anymore.
A soft rap at the door to her cabin on the Greyshield's ship, Drax'ara Duskrunner sighed softly to himself. "Jiroki, it's me, I'm coming in."
The tall Kaldorei, with deep blue hair pulled back and swirling blue eyes, pushed his way into the room. She had secluded herself in here after her supposed wedding date with the Highborne Sasil, yet he never showed to claim his bride at the altar. Most of the other Shields in the mercenary group were too hesitant to approach, but Drake had volunteered to try and keep her under his watch, but more for personal reasons than for the Greyshields.
The room was a mess, Jiroki having spontaneous tantrums and having thrown and broken things, food on the desk he had last left previously remained untouched. At first he was startled not to see her right away, then realized where she was.
"You haven't eaten in days. I'm going to force feed you if you don't eat this now." The man had brought with him a plate of bread, cheese, and bacon, trying to entice her hungry she kept denying but also bringing something light. Jiroki gave no response, something he had learned for some time now she's prone to do when upset, and he got down on his knees beside her.
"Come on, up and at em." Setting the plate down he reaches over to help sit her up, Jiroki shifting slightly but for the most part unresponsive. He raises a brow, but thinks she must be exhausted, letting her body lean against his as she slumps towards him.
"Jiroki?" Something seemed off, and his gut clenched as it agreed with him. Bringing a hand to her cheek she tilts her head up, hearing the very faint of gasps breath, and beside her body he notices a small empty pouch.
The hairs on the back of his neck as shock starts to settle in, recognizing that pouch. Quickly he scoops Jiroki in his arms and tilts her around, setting her down on her back. He sees her face then, silver eyes half lidded and glazed over, her body overdosing. No no no-" His first instinct is to get it out of her, a bit familiar with drug usage. Quickly he rolls her onto her side and shoves two fingers down her throat. To his luck her body reacts as intended, her body gagging and starting to heave up the contents in her stomach. A grisly task, but Drake immediately scans the contents for any of her ‘medicine’ that he learned she frequently takes, and abuses. He could spot some of the white capsules she had recently swallowed that had barely started to dissolve, but there were bits that looked like she had taken some earlier… “How many did you fucking take?!” Drake growls out angrily as he starts fishing for his communication device, Jiroki coughing and remaining laying on her side while he access a specific frequency. “Draxia?! Draxia! I need you!” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jiroki felt dull, out of her skin, not of this world. Did it work? She couldn’t tell, but slowly she was fading back to consciousness. Something cool soothed her skin, her whole body, and she felt weightless. That feeling became more physical as she can feel gentle laps of water touching her skin, being held aloft by someone as there were the faint mutterings of the Darnassian tongue. Slowly she peels open her eyes, a Kaldorei man with purple hair having a hand hovering over her body, and she could see the weavings of druidic magic around the hand. Not only that, she could see a luminescent glow from the waters she floated in. Turning her head she could recognize she now floated in a Moonwell, but how did she get here? “Drax’ara, she’s waking up.” His voice calls out, and Jiroki can start to recognize this druid as Draxia, one of Drake’s brothers. To the side she can hear some movement, and Drake himself comes into view as he peers over the edge of the Moonwell. “Gods, praise Elune…” Drake lets out a heavy breath, relieved that she seemed alright. Jiroki felt her head swim and she reached up to grab hold of it, feeling droplets of the water run down her face. “Can you sit up?” Draxia moved his hands to help her, having her sit upon a rock in the well so that she could keep her head above water. “That was certainly a close call. You need to stay in these waters for a time.” “How… How did I get here?” Jiroki knew for a fact she had been in the Swamp of Sorrows, where her ship was docked in Marshtide, yet the area around them felt like home. “Drax’ara brought you here, we are at the well in Duskwood.” The closest portal to the Emerald Dream, of course, Jiroki should have known. Drake continued to stand nearby, a hard look on his face as he stared at Jiroki, and Draxia noticed. “Brother, come and help me, would you?” Draxia asks. Drake gets taken aback by the sudden question, but he kicks off his boots and climbs into the well. The healing waters slosh a bit from Drake’s body submerging, but he comes in and gingerly takes Jiroki from Draxia, helping keep her steady. Once Draxia is freed from his burden he moves back, letting out a tired sigh and looking exhausted. “I need to rest…” Draxia says as he starts to climb out of the well. “That was very taxing. Watch her for an hour, make sure she doesn’t get out. If she doesn’t next hurt herself by getting an aneurysm…” Jiroki and Draxia didn’t exactly clash well, already the female starting to get riled up by his words and leering towards him, but she felt weak and remained put. Soon enough the druid had left, and she sat alone with Drake in the pools. “What were you thinking?!” Drake starts to scold her in a hushed whisper, she having anticipated it. “You could have been killed!” “That’s what I was trying to do before you came along!” Jiroki snaps back, glowering at him. “How dare you interfere! You had no right to!” “Bullshit I had no right to!” Drake snaps right on back, not afraid to yell at her in turn. “You’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met! Did you even think about how this would affect the Greyshields?! How it would affect me?!” “Why do you keep interfering in my life?! This isn’t what I wanted!” She hits his chest as she tries to pull away from him, but he keeps a firm grip on her shoulders, and her strike had so little power behind it anyways as her body recovers from her ordeal. “What do you want then?! Come on, Jiro! You can’t just… You mean so much to people!” His words falter; it was no secret between the two that he had deep feelings for her. “Is that why he didn’t even show up?! Because I matter so much?!” Jiroki couldn’t stop the sobs from coming. She had cried so much already the past few days, but it came wave after wave. “All this time I been- I been w-waiting for him and, and hanging on, j-just to not show up, on a day that HE picked?! What the fuck?!” Her fists hit his chest again but he just takes it, watching her carefully and with pity as she breaks down before him. “A-And you, you just k-keep getting in the way! Y-you even tried to t-take me from him! But-” It all seemed so silly now, his little pursuits for her while she remained engaged, diligently brushing him off in hopes of something she thought would be better. “Y-You don’t have the right to interfere!” “I think out of everyone I most certainly have that right.” Drake also had a stubborn streak like Jiroki, which resulted in his romantic pursuit of her in the first place. He liked a challenge. But as time went on he got far more than he bargained for, developing deeper feelings for her then he could say he’d had for anyone he’s ever met. His hands come up to cup her face as she cries. “You still have so much to live for. I’m sorry he did that, he’s the most insane person to leave someone like you at the altar, I would kill to have you. But please don’t do this to yourself, I know you’ve lost a lot, but we’d be losing so much if you killed yourself. I’d be losing so much. Look at me, please.” Her gaze had stayed downcast, but he gently coaxes her to look up, and her shimmering eyes do as such while her face is scrunched up in sobs. “I-It hurts s-so much…” Jiroki hiccups, his thumbs wiping away fresh tears that come down. “I know, I know it does…” Leaning forward he rests his forehead against hers, and her eyes shut too as she sobs some more, though his hands don’t leave her face. They sit in silence in the healing waters of the Moonwell as she lets out her emotions, though the waters slowly give back her strength as their Mother Moon resides high in the sky. “Y-You’re stupid…” Jiroki hiccups once again, and once more diverting some of her anger at him. “You c-could’ve gone for, for anyone, a-and you had to bother me…” That makes him chuckle however, his blue eyes half lidded as he grins softly at her. “What can I say? I’m a stubborn man.” His thumbs gently run back and forth over her tear streaked skin, and soon enough her own eyes open. For a time they stare at each other, unable to pull their glances away. But something lures her in. Perhaps his charm, his looks, his personalities that’s a little similar to hers. Or perhaps it was his devoted passion to her that ignited her own, and she begins to lean in. Already having been holding himself back, he takes the cue right away and meets her, their lips meeting for a tender kiss. And the kiss deepens from there, Drake gently pulling him into her lap to hold close the woman he had almost lost, and they stay tangled together for the rest of the night. (( @daily-writing-challenge ))
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Dragon Dancer: Saving Erii
Erii tilted her head up to gaze in wonder at the towering ferris wheel. It was ablaze with lights that shimmered in colorful bright patterns, flashing, strobing lines, spinning hypnotic circles.
“Akira...” Chisei took the moment to approach him while she stood entranced. “If you’re serious about Erii...”
“I am serious!” He blurted.
“Then tell her the truth.” Chisei interrupted him before he could say more. “If you do then... I’ll let things fall where they will.”
Akira lowered his eyes. He took a deep, halting breath and walked away from him. Erii returned and dragged him off to get in line.
They weren’t the only couple on the ride that night. Some where already kissing in line. Erii broke out her notebook. “Are you going to kiss me again?”
Akira turned away, his head growing hot. ‘I-...If you want.”
She held up her notebook to him but he couldn’t bear to look at it. Her hands grabbed hold of his face. He squeezed his eyes shut.
Her lips pressed against his.
He leaned away, glancing nervously in Chisei’s direction. The man was staring at him, still as a statue. The jaunty carnival music may have well be hundreds of tiny death knells.
Erii waved at Chisei. He smiled a little, turned and walked away.
They got into the Ferris Wheel car and let the ride operator shut and lock it.
It was plush and comfortable. The ride moved to let other people on. Erii looked down on all the people milling about below. She was suddenly serious, contemplative.
Akira racked his brain. How was he even supposed to start this subject anyway?
The ride rose higher. She then took her notebook and started writing. She held it up. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Oh... yeah, I have... something to say too... but you go first!”
She continued to write. “I’m very, very sick. You don’t know because you’ve never been with me for very long. While we were having fun, I wasn’t taking medicine. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to go back. I wanted to stay out with you.”
“What?! Erii!”
She looked down, twining her fingers.
Akira wanted to stop the ride and go down right now! “We need to get home right away!”
She nodded.
But there was nothing he could do. That’s why she waited until now to tell him. “Don’t... don’t do this again...”
“I’m not sure if we’ll see each other again.” She wrote. “My illness is very advanced.”
Inside, a sudden heaviness weighed on him. “What... no... Erii...”
She took his hand and ran it up and down her bare arm. It didn’t feel like normal skin even though it looked normal. It was rough and pebbly. She picked up her pen. “I knew this would make you sad. I’m sorry I troubled you. For the first time in my life I felt like a normal girl.”
Akira tried to hold back his tears, but he couldn’t. The sobbing rose up in his throat. They forced their way out of his eyes. She patted his back. She didn’t cry.
They’d reached the top. The city of Tokyo spread out before them in an endless sea of lights. She took his hand and traced into his palm. “Pretty.”
“N... not as beautiful as you.” He said, broken. He hated that he was sniffling and falling apart. She raised his chin again.
“You had something to say too?” She held up the notebook.
He nodded, drawing his sleeve across his eyes. “Yeah. I’m... My name isn’t really Akira.”
She wrote. “Mingfei.”
He nodded. He felt himself coming back slowly, not suddenly, like a flash of lightning, but like the sun coming up after a long night. “Yes... that’s my name. Mingfei... L... Lu... Mingfei.”
“Why did you pretend to be someone else?”
His lips parted. Pain and grief rose in his chest. He backed away from mentally, focusing his mind on her. “It’s... something terrible happened. I have a hard time thinking about it. It was easier just to forget everything.”
She wrote. “I understand. Will you go back home too?”
“Yes. I think... I have to. But I don’t want to leave you.”
She reached over and took his hand and looked into his eyes. She wrote down one more thing. “I always knew this wouldn’t be forever. But we always have memories.”
She suddenly dropped the notebook and pen. Her hand flew to her mouth and a trickle of blood came out from under it. She doubled over.
“Erii!”
---------------
After the two rose into the Ferris Wheel, Chisei took a walk to the bench to wait. His cellphone buzzed. Unknown number? His number wasn’t listed, not even among spammers. He picked it up.
“Who is this?”
“Johann Chu. Good to hear your voice. Carli was worried you were dead.”
“I need to talk to you about Carli. It’s important. I remember what you two said to each other on the Trieste. I’ve found out a few things about her that you need to know.”
“Her bloodline is very similar to mine, high concentration of dragon purity and stable. Essentially, she’s an emperor hybrid. There’s a man, Herzog, who wants to amass an army of us to take over the world. For that reason, I’ve been tasked with finding Carli and killing her.”
He was silent.
“I know this is hard for you to hear. But you must understand that so long as she’s alive, there’s the potential she’ll be used this way. And if she ever does have children, there’s a fifty percent chance that they will be unstable, violent. They will be unstoppable with our combined genetics. Hundreds of people could die. I don’t think Carli would be capable of killing her own children, when she couldn’t even kill strangers who were unstable. Perhaps you could... but you would have to fight her to do it. I’m not sure you are capable of that either.”
“There’s a chance that Herzog has already produced infants.” Johann replied. “Killing Carli now would be useless.”
“The bloodline must be eliminated. I’ll destroy any and all traces of Herzog’s research after I get rid of him.”
“Do you plan on killing yourself?” He asked.
Chisei chuckled in amazement. He doubted that Johann knew of his origins. The man had a sharp and far-seeing wit that he never failed to appreciate. His logical shot in the dark hit the bull’s eye. “I’ve... thought of it. I’ve experienced what it was like to kill one’s own family. Our bloodlines produce twins. One stable, one violent. My brother, the violent one, seemed normal for a while. But he turned into a serial killer once he reached high school. I... I killed him.”
“It was the hardest thing... and haunts me to this day. I won’t make you do that to her, Johann.”
Johann’s voice was calm and even. “There’s something you don’t know about Carli. What you don’t know is she’s actually the one best equipped to handle her children. What you fear will not happen.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not authorized to disclose it to you. Her secret is only hers to disclose. She’s not with me now, but I can arrange a meeting.”
“Even if this is true, what happens after she dies? Do you think her children, her grandchildren or her great-grandchildren won’t attempt world domination?” Chisei asked. “Ending the bloodline is the best thing to do.”
“Humans have also committed atrocities. If it’s suffering in general you wish to prevent...”
“I’m doing what I can to prevent the rise of a super race of hybrids!” Chisei hissed. “If you’re not with me on this, I understand, but the next time we meet, we will be enemies!”
Silence on the other line.
“I don’t... want to kill her. If its mercy you want, sterilization is also an option.”
“I will talk to her about it. But this is something all of us need to discuss. Together. Talk to her Chisei.”
Chisei’s eyes wandered over as a couple passed him. He massaged his forehead. “Call me back in the morning.”
He hung up. He leaned back and looked up at the stars. If only he could just run away...
After a few minutes, he heard voices and shouting from the ferris wheel. Among them, the frantic cries of Akira. He sprinted to the scene where a small crowd had gathered. “Someone call a medic!” The ride operator cried.
Erii was on her hands and knees, unable to stand. Akira was being accosted by a man who grabbed hold of him, demanding to know what he did to her.
“I didn’t do anything! She’s sick!” He raised his eyes to Chisei. “Aniki!”
Chisei muscled his way through the crowd and picked Erii up off the ground. “We’ve got to get her back to the clinic!”
Erii’s eyes were flickering with yellow light, the pupils widened and contracted. Chisei raced for the fence bordering the amusement park and both he and Akira easily cleared it, landing on the other side.
They spotted a valet waiting next to a convertible, rushed it and leaped into the vehicle. Before the valet could move, Chisei had put Erii in Akira’s lap and screeched away into the parking lot.
“Aniki! I told her!” Akria shouted over the roar of the engine.
“Good!”
“And... I remember my name! Lu Mingfei!”
He held her tight in his lap. “Aniki... I know she’s dying! I know who can save her!”
“What?!”
They careened out of the parking lot and into the street.
“Remember I said I saw someone turn into a dragon servitor before? She survived! Her name is Carli! She can heal Devils!”
Chisei glanced at him with wide eyes, stunned silent.
“I’ve seen her do it! She can stop the progression of Erii’s disease! We need to find her before its too late!”
Chisei pulled into an alleyway and cut the engine and the lights. He grabbed Mingfei by the arm, pulling him hard towards him. “Is what you say true?” His eyes glittered in the dark.
“Yes. The first time she came to Japan, she turned servitor. Six months later, we find her and she walking around just fine. She never turned again. Her speaking spirit helped another friend of mine do the same thing. She even saved children from the Hydra asylum and they’re living normal lives now!”
Chisei gaped for a few seconds then his eyes narrowed. “Get out of the car.”
“What?”
“Erii needs immediate medical attention.” Chisei took out his phone. “I’m sending you a phone number. Call it. Your friends from Cassell will pick you up. Once they do, go back to them.”
“But...”
“I will arrange a meeting with Carli to see if what you say is true. But if its not... then, she’ll have to die. I’m sorry, Mingfei.” Chisei reached around him and opened the door.
“Chisei-”
His former Aniki’s blade was suddenly at his throat. “Consider this my last order to you.”
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The Shield and the Sword: Chapter 11: Goddesses and Glamour [Alucard/Reader]
You’re a witch that is skilled in herbology, one that has been persecuted by the church for practically your entire life. In spite of this, moving throughout different towns has allowed you to pick up some chatter about a woman in a village called Lupu. She is supposed to be a wonder when it comes to medicine, and this immediately perks up your interest. So after plucking up some courage, you’ve made it to her door… hoping that she takes you as her apprentice.
ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16724856?view_full_work=true
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Deep inside, you truly believed that it was more than simply fate that those who were now practically your family just happened to vacation in Caliacra of all places every year.
When you and Adrian had decided to return home--that day you had been lead back to your village-- you were bounding through the forest, skipping and hopping along to the hum of the magic that surged around you.
The nymphs had rejoined you as well, the group of you twirling and dancing together as you weaved between branches and skimmed across the surface of tiny puddles. At that moment you had been so happy, at that moment, you truly believed your life to be perfect.
Telling Lisa and Vlad had been the most exciting part of it all. You had burst through the door with such vigor that it wobbled on its hinges, your grin practically splitting apart your face.
You found the two of them out on the patio of one of the many parlors that were spread throughout the castle, Lisa and Vlad cuddling up next to each other on a long wooden lounge chair. You thought it a bit comical with Lisa being in the half exposed to the sunlight, her pale skin glowing under the light of the mid-afternoon sun.
Vlad had been covered by something you would later learn is called a ‘parasol’. He tells you that it had been a gift from the head of a vampire clan in the east where they specialized in making them with beautiful silk, patterned with flowers and intricate landscapes. He told you that she was coming to the party so you should make a mental note to find Chō; he promised that even though she might look very intimidating, she was a delight to be around as soon as you got to know her!
Once you finally managed to tell them (in-between gasps) what it is you discovered, they were elated at the news. They were both so happy to find out that your coven had found peace and the forest you once called home was still alive and well. At one point, Lisa offhandedly mentioned that she would love to visit said woods, and you couldn’t have thought of a better idea yourself!
So, that’s what you did the following morning--you took Lisa to the magical forest of your childhood. When the two of you finally ran into the nymphs, they could instantly pick up the healing energy that practically oozed around Lisa’s aura, and they fell in love with her almost instantly. They babbled on and on about the plants they could smell and that her ability to cure the ailments of not only the body but the soul as well, were par to none.
They showed the two of you around the woods, pointing out special plants that they knew did not grow anywhere else but here and showing off flowers that would make even the most luxurious royal garden weep in envy.
Lisa was absolutely enamored with the place, and she later confessed to you as you walked back that evening, the sun beginning to set beyond the horizon, that she could have stayed there all night too. It was as if she had stepped through one of the fairytales that her mother read to her as a child, she was still in disbelief that a place like that was even real.
It had been so special to share that with Lisa, and it made you smile whenever you thought back to that first wondrous journey into the woods; memories you would forever hold dear in your heart.
How Lisa’s eyes had glowed under the fairy lights that had been dancing across the still surface of a large pond beneath a towering, serene ancient ash tree. Or when the nymphs had led you two into a secluded alcove, a sacred area, one that trickled with a small waterfall between shale slabs of stone that had been covered in thick layers of moss.
They explained that this is where they came to pay their respects to the forest spirits and showed Lisa how to properly do so. It was amazing, watching Lisa dip her hands in the crystal clear water and wash them under the gentle trickling waterfall as she went silent, and took her few moments to silently thank them for whatever she so chose to.
You were so grateful that even though you had only been there a week, so much had transpired within that time.
Being back home was finally giving you the chance to properly heal with all of the tragedy you had endured, to finally make peace with it all. It was such a liberating feeling to let go of a little more hurt every day as you found yourself enveloped in the soft embrace of the poppies.
It was so nice to talk to them, to tell them about everything that had happened in your life since losing them. Call you crazy, but you swore that they would turn their stems up towards the direction of your voice as if they were eagerly tuning in to what you were saying.
These private sessions especially gave you time to think about what it is you wanted in life. It was hard, coming to terms about certain truths you’d made yourself believe for years, and you knew it would take time, but the progress you were already making certainly had you happy.
You also sensed that things were slowly returning to normal with Adrian. You could tell it took a turn for the better when you caught a glimpse of his expression as you sat down beside him for breakfast that morning after arriving in Caliacra. He had been so shocked that even Vlad had made a comment curiously asking why Adrian was making such a face.
Hatred had been right in calling you childish, for you had avoided eating with the Tepes family for almost a week due to your anxiety over seeing Adrian again after his… confession.
But after that morning, he appeared to “bump” into you more, and slowly these awkward run-ins turned into time you two actually spent hanging out with one another.
One of the first things you had done was bring him to the tide pools that emerged from the deep as the ocean receded with the fading moon. You had fashioned a net out of seagrass you had tied together by using your magic and you nearly burst into laughter every single time you got a look at the face he’d make whenever you showed him your catch. His favorite had to have probably been the sea urchins you found hiding between some rocks in a smaller pool underneath a bizarre rock formation.
A couple of days later, he offered that the two of you go horseback riding on the beach together. At first, you thought him mad. But then you realized that the stables were technically connected to the castle so…
Truth be told, you did not even think to look for the stables once you arrived in Caliacra, and you suddenly felt so guilty for practically ignoring Clara for over a week! She had been a huge help during you and Adrian’s mild fall-out, as you often confided in her while you brushed out her mane or leaned against her large back while you thought out loud.
She had been so happy to see you again, stomping and shaking her head so vigorously you were worried she might just trample through the door. After you had managed to calm her down with a series of kisses and perhaps a solid five minutes of petting and scratching, you and Adrian headed out to the beach together.
When you gazed upon his handsome black stallion, you recalled the conversation that you had with Diana a month or so ago, and mentally shook your head in agreement for he was handsome--and he knew it.
Adrian’s horse pranced down the hill leading to the beach with such poise, but there was a hidden sense of pride and smugness underneath it all that made you smile mischievously to yourself; they were a perfect match.
That day had been so much fun, for what started off as a gentle ride along the side of the calming waves, turned into a full-blown race, almost mimicking what you and Adrian had done together. Your laughter ran out into the chilled evening air, and as you both finally pulled your horses to a stop, you had to reprimand yourself several times because you could just not stop… staring!
Adrian’s long hair danced around him as a cool sea breeze that rolled off the waves mingled between the two of you. It shimmered almost silver in the low light of twilight and his eyes glimmered like the stars that had slowly begun to emerge in the sky.
He looked so serene, so beautiful … it took your breath away.
Unfortunately, that image of him on the beach seemed to not only haunt you as you bid each other goodnight, but it also followed you into your subconscious as well.
That morning you awoke in a huff, a blush to your cheeks when you realized that you had dreamt about the two of you alone, on that beach. It was like you were a lovesick little girl again or something!
Ugh! You ran your hands across your face in distress and let out a melodramatic moan as you began getting ready for the day.
How embarrassing, you grumbled to yourself as you got out of your now lukewarm bath and started patting yourself dry.
You need to start making up your mind, you chastised yourself while you finished drying your hair and started to brush it out. You have to come up with a decision once and for all. It’s not like you to play with someone’s feelings.
You gave a heavy sigh as you slipped on the flowy white sundress you decided to wear that day. It was cute, falling off the shoulder slightly as the puffy sleeves ended in a delicate satin trim of embroidered flowers.
Perhaps you could entice Adrian to another round of hunting in the tide pools? That would be an activity where you could actively work together, but you didn’t have to really look at one another. It might work, right?
You rolled your eyes as you walked down the hallway leading to the kitchen—your emotions were really starting to get on your nerves.
As soon as you turned down the corner that hid the enormous kitchen, you come to a halt when you notice that it wasn’t just the Tepes family occupying the long wooden table.
A tall woman with long black hair and gorgeous golden eyes sat across from Vlad, a lascivious smile on her ruby-colored lips. She wore a stunning dark blue suede dress that faded into a black gradient near the tips of the sleeves and the edges of the skirt, her long nails shimmering a deep turquoise in contrast to her outfit.
Beside her was another woman. She was slightly paler in comparison, her icy blue eyes and bright white hair creating an ethereal sense to her. She sported a magnificent red dress that clung tightly to her form, intricate embroidery, not unlike your own, decorating the bust and hem.
You were rather unsure how to approach them and stood awkwardly at the entrance for a few moments before your eyes landed on Adrian. He appeared to be the only one who noticed you and he gave you a smile before he patted the open spot next to him as an invitation for you to sit down.
You returned his smile with one of your own and started to quietly walk over to the table. About half-way to your destination, you hear the woman with black hair say to Vlad, a smirk on her face,
“So, are you going to introduce me to this apprentice of yours, or are you going to ignore her for the remainder of breakfast?”
You froze mid-stride as both Lisa and Vlad’s heads whipped around to stare at you, surprised by your sudden appearance.
“Oh!” Lisa exclaimed. “I didn’t even hear you come in my dear, I’m sorry.”
You shake your head and take your seat beside Adrian. “No, it’s alright. You were in the middle of a conversation, I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
“Nonsense,” Vlad replied. “We weren’t discussing anything of importance.”
“So catching up with your sister is seen as unimportant now?” the woman across from Vlad said as she took a sip of her strong black coffee.
“You…” Vlad sputtered and sighed as he shook his head. “You know that’s not what I meant--”
“Relax,” she teased. “You know I only jest.”
“Wait,” you whispered to Adrian. “Did she just say ‘sister’?”
He gave you a playful smile as he took a bite of his buttered bread. “Don’t you recognize her?”
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the question. How were you supposed to recognize her? You had never even met her before! You found yourself risking another glance over at her, and as you got a second look, that’s when you remembered the paintings.
“That’s Stefana?” you spouted out.
“Indeed it is, little witch,” her rich voice sent tingles up your spine and you could not help the flush that rose to your cheeks at what she called you.
“I see my reputation precedes me,” she leaned forward in her seat and gave you a coy smile. “I sure hope my brother hasn’t been bad-mouthing me in my absence.”
“She only knows what Lisa and Adrian have told her,” Vlad replied coolly, as he took a bite of his eggs. “It’s not my fault if she’s already made presumptions about you.”
Stefana turned to look at Adrian and gave him a half-hearted pout as she wrapped an arm around him. “Now what have you been telling this lovely lady about me, nephew?”
“It was only a few passing comments,” Lisa filled in from across the table after she noticed how absolutely mortified Adrian looked. “She had stumbled upon that portrait you did with Vlad and Dumitra.”
“Ah,” Stefana said and relinquished her grip on her embarrassed nephew. “Gods, now that’s a blast from the past.”
“I know!” Lisa exclaimed out in laughter.
“Those portraits had been an absolute disaster to sit through,” she grumbled. “Dumitra’s constant griping made me want to stake myself.”
“We’re going to have to deal with her at the party aren’t we?” asked the white-haired woman beside her.
“Unfortunately,” Stefana replied softly.
“Enough,” Vlad snapped. “We shall deal with her when the time comes. For now, I think, you should properly introduce yourselves.”
“A fine idea, brother,” Stefana leaned forward again so that she could get a good look at you, which wasn’t exactly difficult considering how tall she was. “My name is Stefana Maria Tepes and I am the lord that oversees this city alongside my partner,” her gaze softened as her attention turned to the woman next to her.
“I am Carmilla of Styria,” she said to you, a smile on her thin red lips. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you all,” her gaze shifted to Lisa and Vlad, who sat in front of her. “Stefana has told me so much about you.”
“She must have wanted to keep you a surprise,” Lisa gave the two a playful grin. “Because all that we’d had heard is that she had found a new beau.”
“You said that you were from Styria?” Vlad queried, and a hush fell over the room.
Carmilla awkwardly cleared her throat and nodded her head. “Yes, I am.”
“That’s quite a ways away,” he said and folded his hands together to rest on the table. “Howabouts did you two meet?”
Stefana’s eyes narrowed slightly, the lines of her face sharp as she did her best to bite back a retort to her brother’s prying.
“Darling,” Lisa whispered to her husband as she nudged him with her elbow. “They just got here! Can’t we save the dramatics for another time?”
“No, it’s fine,” Stefana said, a low growl rumbling in her chest for a brief moment as she took a deep breath. “I’m assuming you’ve heard of the recent death of Duke Leopold?”
Vlad took a sip of his tea, one of his pointed black eyebrows raised up in questioning. “Yes, he died about a year ago, did he not? I heard there was an uprising within the kingdom and they beheaded him.”
“Well,” Stefana drawled and began to trace a pattern on the table with the residue left behind from her chilled glass of orange juice. “That story is partially correct.”
Vlad let out a long, exhausted sigh, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Please tell me you didn’t have anything to do with that?”
Stefana looked towards Lisa and shrugged her shoulders, who could only blink slowly in absolute shock while Adrian whipped around to shout,
“You killed him?!”
“Shout it from the rooftops why don’t you,” she snapped at him, but then smirked and pinched his cheek. “He was a stain,” she said, her expression turning much more serious as she turned back to face her brother. “See, I had heard rumors about Styria during my year of traveling, long before I even arrived. Other women that I would run into, trekking through the cold on nothing more than their own feet, would warn me about the place. They said women that found themselves there, were never to be seen again.”
“What do you mean?” you asked.
“I would go on to learn that the one who ruled over Styria, this Duke Leopold, would have women kidnapped, and then either turned or eaten--I suppose it just depended on his mood,” she hissed, her face contorted into a grimace. “I couldn’t just stand there and let these people be treated like this!”
“So you killed him?” Vlad exclaimed in an exacerbated tone. “We could have done this diplomatically, Stefana. You could have arranged a meeting with the council so that we could have dealt him a proper punishment.” “Oh don’t sit there and spout those formalities to me,” she rolled her eyes. “You and I both know that you participated in your own fair share of crusades.”
Vlad opened his mouth to say something, but then quickly shut it as Lisa muttered,
“She’s got you there…”
“Auntie, what did you end up doing?” Adrian asked, clearly still wanting to find out how exactly his aunt did in this so-called Duke Leopold.
“Well this is actually where I met Carmilla,” she explained, a smirk tugging on the corners of her lips as she rested her hand on her partner’s thigh. “Taking care of all the guards posted near his chambers was no problem. It doesn’t hurt being a member of the Tepes family,” she grinned, her long, pointed fangs shining in the sunlight. “I found her inside with him--”
“And what a sight that was to behold,” Carmilla all but purred. “She was covered head-to-toe in vampire blood,” she took a gentle grip of the hand on her thigh and interlocked their fingers as she raised it up to show off Stefana’s long nails. “And all she had used were the nails on her fingers.” she seemed almost giddy as she revealed this to everyone, which, honestly, made you a little uncomfortable.
Stefana gave Carmilla a stunning smile, her eyes hooded as she nodded her head. “Yes, those fools were so sloppy I didn’t even have to stoop to using their own weapons against them.” she chuckled. “I initially wanted to be the one to kill Duke Leopold, but when Carmilla explained to me what he had done to her, I decided that she’d have the privilege of delivering that worthless piece of scum to his death.”
“So you beheaded him?” Adrian grimaced at the thought. “That’s a bit messy, isn’t it?”
“Not if he gets beheaded from being hung outside the bedroom window,” Carmilla replied, a maniacal shine glimmering in her icy eyes.
“Oh dear,” Lisa quietly whispered to herself and took a couple of sips of tea. “No one wanted ramification for killing him, I suppose? What with the kingdom being in a state of anarchy?”
Carmilla nodded her head. “Yes, you are correct. In fact, nearly the entire kingdom rejoiced when a few villagers brought along his body they found early the following morning.”
“So who rules Styria now? I haven’t heard any news from over there since Leopold’s death,” Vlad stated.
“Carmilla is actually in the process of becoming the lord of Styria,” Stefana replied.
“Is that so?” Vlad rubbed his chin pensively. “Do you have any experience managing a town? It’s an awful lot of responsibility.”
“She’s been helping me here, in Caliacra,” Stefana clarified. “She’s quick at getting a hand on things, I’m sure she’ll be ready to rule over Styria soon,” she gave Carmilla a loving glance and pecked her on the cheek.
“Um, excuse me?” you waved your hand in Stefana’s direction to try and get her attention.
“Yes, little witch?” she asked with a smile on her face.
“You said that you ruled over Caliacra?”
She nodded her head. “I have been for over a year now.”
“Do you…” your voice faltered, nervous about asking her what had been gnawing at the back of your mind this entire time; you were dying to know if she had ever heard about your coven. “Do you think I could ask you a couple of questions? In um… someplace more private?”
Her thick black eyebrows furrowed together for a moment before her visage relaxed and she smiled. “Of course,” her gaze then snapped over to Lisa. “We should probably head out to get ready, don’t you think?”
Lisa ran her fingers through her hair as she chuckled. “The build-up to this is making me so stressed, but I know I have no reason to be.”
Stefana took hold of her hands and kissed the top of them. “You absolutely don’t, because I will be taking care of everything. The only thing you have to do is sit back and make sure that both you and my brother are the most dashing at the ball.”
Lisa’s eyes crinkled with the relieved smile she gave Stefana in return. “I am eternally grateful for this. The idea of trying to decorate this place in anticipation for over two hundred guests is rather daunting.”
“Did she just say two-hundred guests?” you whispered sternly to Adrian.
“It’s their twentieth anniversary,” he whispered back. “My family can be rather… over-the-top when it comes to celebrating important events. Apparently the party that was held in celebration for my birth had almost three-hundred guests.”
You looked at Adrian in disbelief. The biggest gatherings you’d ever held with your coven had been festivals honoring the arrival of Spring or harvest season, and even with everyone in your village attending those, that number paled in comparison to the parties the Tepes family was used to.
“What on earth am I going to wear…” you mumbled to yourself, feeling overwhelmed that such an extravagant night was only a couple hours away.
“That’s where we come in, darling,” Stefana said as she got up from her seat, pulling Carmilla up with her. “We shall take care of everything, so don’t you worry your little head off.” her long slender legs seemed to glide across the brick floor of the kitchen as she walked over to ruffle your hair. “I promise to bring her back in one piece,” she teased Adrian as she hoisted you out of your seat with a simple tug of her arm.
Your face burned under her intense stare and you swallowed a lump in your throat, meekly waving goodbye to Adrian before Stefana practically dragged you out of the kitchen.
It was difficult trying to keep up with her quick strides, but your curiosity started to get the better of you as the three of you remained inside of the castle. In spite of the fact that you were all but barrelling down hallways faster than you ever had in your life, you knew where you were headed. However, this raised more questions than it did provide answers, so when you finally came to a halt in front of Vlad’s study, you had to ask,
“What are we doing here?”
Stefana grinned down at you and pushed open the door, leading you over to a tall mirror that sat on the wall closest to the plush red armchair in front of the fireplace.
“A mirror?” you wondered aloud. You had seen it before, back when Vlad invited you here to talk about your coven. What was so important about it?
“He’s never shown you?” Stefana seemed genuinely surprised and squatted down a bit so that she was eye-level with you. “This is called a distance mirror,” with the wave of her hand the image reflected in the glass shifted from the three of you to the interior of a beautiful castle. “With it, we can travel anywhere in the world so long as there is another one connecting you to that location.”
Your eyes were blown wide from shock as you gaped at her. “So… where does this one lead to?”
“Several places,” she said. “But, we’re just stopping by my place for a bit. Maybe I can convince my brother to let you explore the other spots it can take you,” she chuckled and took a tight grip of your hand. “This may feel a little strange, but it’s perfectly safe.”
You gave her a determined nod as you slowly began to walk closer and closer to the mirror. You had no idea what to expect and your eyes scrunched together as you subconsciously held your breath when your foot started to pass through the crystal clear glass.
It felt almost like you had dipped your entire body into a freezing pond, a harsh gasp escaping your lungs when you landed back on solid ground. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself in a completely different room-- the one that you had seen within the mirror only seconds prior.
It appeared smaller than the average size of those within Castlevania, but it had such a cozy and inviting aura that it was almost impossible to not fall in love with the place. The walls were a rich violet, lined with soft watercolor paintings of flowers, noblewomen, and depictions of goddesses such as Athena, Aphrodite, and Artemis.
Three velvet chaise lounges encircled a white marble table, accented with colorful throw pillows that had all been strategically placed. Several dark wooden walnut bookshelves filled out the rest of the space, packed neatly with a wide array of literature from around the world.
“This is a lovely little room,” you commented.
“Thank you,” Stefana replied. “This is one of a few parlors I have. I tend to keep this one strictly business, which is why I hung my distance mirror here,” she pointed behind you to her mirror, which was equally as tall as the one in Vlad’s office, except Stefana’s was adorned in a lovely gold trim whose runes had been accented with a fine dusting of diamond powder.
“We won’t be getting you ready in here though,” she gave you a pointed grin and took hold of your hand again as she led you through the halls of her home.
The royal blue carpets that lined the hallways were plush and decorated with bright white floral patterns, the mauve walls complimenting the serene feel. The paintings in Stefana’s house were decoration pieces she must have sought out to help create the overall aesthetic she desired, for you spotted no family portraits amongst all of them. Perhaps she was less upfront about her personal life than her brother, an observation you found rather interesting.
She pushed open a set of double-doors at the very end of a hall, her arms outstretched as she twirled around and smiled. “Welcome to my humble bedchambers.”
Humble was an understatement. You guessed this had to be one of the largest rooms in the castle, with her bed alone taking up almost half of the entire space. It had no bedposts and instead had one large wooden frame made of balsa that curved around the circular shape of the mattress, which was adorned with a beautiful black silk blanket and a handful of feathery pillows.
An enormous vanity stood parallel to the bed, the same bone white color as the wood making up her frame. Boxes an array of sizes and colors littered the deskspace, each one filled with a variety of jewelry and accessories. Glass vials filled with clear liquids were scattered about as well, and a few plush vanity chairs were lined up in front of the vanity. The large accompanying mirror hung on the wall, and you were startled to discover that you could see both Carmilla and Stefana’s reflections.
“I thought vampires had no reflections?” you asked Stefana as she placed you onto one of the low chairs.
“Aren’t you the clever one,” she smiled slyly. “This one I had custom made to not have a silver backing. That way, even someone like me can use it.”
Your head cocked to the side as you took a good look at the mirror, and made an approving face while you nodded. “That’s pretty ingenious, actually.”
“Perfection like this,” Stefana over-dramatically framed her face as she took a seat behind you and leaned closer to your ear. “Requires more time than you might realize.”
You scoffed. “You know you two are some of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever seen, right?”
Stefana’s eyes lit up, her golden irises glittering exquisitely under the lighting of her room. Her lips curved into a mischievous smile and you felt her run her long nails through your hair. “If you keep being so sweet, I might have to snatch you up myself.” she chuckled when she noticed how red your face was, practically sneering at your flustered heart beat rapidly in her ears.
“It’s not every day we have someone as cute as yourself compliment us in such a way,” Carmilla’s sultry voice caused you to become even more flustered, and a nervous laugh bubbled up in your chest when she grabbed a hold of your hand and lifted your arm up closer to her face. “I think I’m going to enjoy pampering this one, my love,” she said as she gazed up at Stefana.
“Excellent,” she replied smoothly. “Then let us get started.”
_________________________
The next few hours were filled with so much primping, and styling, and teasing, and measuring, and adjusting that by the three-hour mark, you were starting to go a little bit crazy. Your face stung a bit--but you think it was just from this powder Stefana had used around your cheekbones--and your body ached a bit more than you would have liked, but excitement still managed to lace through you when they told you they were finished with your outfit.
Since you had made it clear how uncomfortable you’d feel if you wore no undergarments protecting your chest, Stefana had fashioned a single piece that began as a thin-strapped top of a chemise that changed into shorts near the bottom. It was light and made of fine silk, and you had to fight the urge to tell her she shouldn’t have bothered with that… you would have been happy if it was made of cheap hemp cloth!
You were rendered speechless when they finally presented the dress. It was spectacular, a form-fitting piece that was, to your delight, your favorite color! Most of it appeared to be made of wool, but the inside was lined with exquisite silk dyed a slightly lighter shade than the rest of the dress. The top was cut traditionally, with just a little bit extra off the shoulders so they could be a bit more exposed. Long sleeves decorated with an impressive array of delicate floral embroidery nearly touched the floor and your skirt flared out a bit, hiding several thin layers of silk beneath its wool exterior.
As the two of them helped you into it, you were giddy with happiness and you truly couldn't believe that this was happening. A gasp slips past your lips when you finally catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Reaching down, you pinch a part of your wrist still visible from underneath your sleeves just to ensure that yes--this is really happening.
A smile erupts on your face as you laugh, looking down to admire this beautiful dress that had been crafted just for you.
“So? What do you think?” Stefana wondered.
You heard the ottoman beside you huff as Carmilla took a seat on it, a hairbrush in her hand and an array of different colored powders in her lap. “It’s…” your attention shifts from what’s she currently applying to her finger back up to Stefana, your eyes shining with gratitude. “It’s so beautiful Stefana… I… I’m not even sure I deserve something this extravagant,” you confess sheepishly.
“Nonsense,” she quipped and popped open one of her jewelry boxes. “You’re a part of the family now, you deserve only the best I have to offer,” she took out a couple of pairs of earrings and a few necklaces and started to hold them up next to you, gauging which would be the best match. “And you make Lisa very happy,” she smiled, her expression earnest and heartfelt. “My brother is very fond of you as well--not only for that but… you make his family happy. He told me how thankful he was for you over breakfast.”
You felt your throat close up as tears welled up in your eyes, but you fought to hold them back, lest you ruin all of Carmilla’s hard work. Clearing your throat and taking a deep breath, you gave Stefana another smile. “Thank you… I… words cannot even begin to describe how thankful I am for them… for all of you, really.”
Stefana bops the tip of your nose with her long nail, and she reaches over to grab the hairbrush Carmilla neglected to finish up your hair. “Little witch?” she asked you, her eyes hooded as she focused on her task.
“Yes?”
“You said you had some questions for me. Care to tell me what they were?”
A flush rose to your now blush-dusted cheeks and you fidgeted slightly in your seat. “Oh, yes, right… that. ”
“There’s no need to act so shy,” Carmilla said as she dusted on some powder to your eyelids.
“I… I know,” you muttered and steeled your resolve as you looked at Stefana's reflection in the mirror. “You said that you’re the one who holds dominion over Caliacra, correct?”
Stefana nodded her head as she slid a necklace down your neck. “Yes. I’ve been ruling over Caliacra for a little over a year now.”
It was now or never. After taking another calming breath, you asked, “Have you ever heard of a coven of witches called the Sisters of Divine Teachings?”
Silence rang out into the room, Stefana’s hands freezing in place below your ears with earrings she was going to try on you. They dangled there for a moment before she snatched them away and tucked them back inside of their respective box. She was quiet as she dug around for another pair, her back turned to you and a long heavy sigh rumbling from her throat. “I should have known,” she quietly mused and turned around with the newest set she plucked from her collection. “I knew there had been something about you that felt familiar.” she settled on a large white diamond pair that dangled off the ends of white gold in the shape of a dewdrop.
You would have whipped around in your seat, but Carmilla kept a stern grip on your shoulder as she continued to work on your face, so you could only wiggle around helplessly as the enthusiasm from hearing this overwhelmed you.
“You knew them?” you cried out. “You knew my coven?”
She nodded her head and gingerly looped the earrings through your piercing. “Yes. You recall that I mentioned I took a year to do some traveling? Well, it was during that time I ran into them.”
“How long ago was this?” you asked. “I don't remember ever seeing you in the village.”
“No,” Stefana replied and grabbed a hold of one of the colorful glass vials. “I would run into them whenever they visited the city. They knew I was a vampire as soon as they spotted me, and they ushered me over with insights and advice I’m still shocked they knew I needed.”
“That didn’t happen to be a group of older women?” you questioned.
Stefana looked down at you, amused, and nodded her head. “Indeed. Were they known to go around, scaring people half-to-death with their accurate readings?”
You laughed. “Those were a group of women that my grandmother had been close with. Oftentimes they came home with stories of using their abilities to help people seek things such as closure or even guidance, but there would be times where they’d con an unlucky traveler or two. It was only ever to those they could sense were trouble though, so I think it’s safe to say they weren’t pulling your leg.” you grinned as Stefana chuckled in delight.
“No, they were not. They were actually extremely helpful during my short time in Caliacra, and I ended up buying quite a bit of medicine from the younger witches that would come selling their wares,” she explained. “I could tell that the town respected them and appreciate all the hard work they were doing keeping everyone healthy.”
“Yes…” you sighed wistfully, but then your smile cracked a bit and your eyebrows creased together. “I heard… is it true that Caliacra was subjugated to pillaging and attacks after word got out of my coven?”
You notice her lips pursed together in discomfort, her hands falling to rest on your shoulders. “Unfortunately… apparently, the church began to propagate the rumor that everyone in Caliacra were devil worshippers and doomed to hell because they had associated with witches.” her grip on your shoulders tightened a bit. “My initial plans after rescuing Carmilla were to return to Caliacra since the warm coastal beaches were the perfect contrast to the cold harsh Styrian weather. But when we arrived, it was utter chaos.”
“The town had been pillaged and ransacked with a new man in office,” Stefana spat. “He had been appointed by the church, which had most of the residents quite worried seeing as how they had supported a coven for decades, if not centuries.”
“And they had every right to be nervous,” Carmilla added. “We quickly found out that the church had an iron grip on this town and any sort of defiance was met with very little mercy.”
“In fact,” Stefana continued. “Those self-righteous bastards had been working in tandem with vampires.”
“What?” you exclaimed. “What do you mean?”
“Anyone overheard speaking about what happened to your coven as anything other than a just act of God,” she all but sneered. “Would be kidnapped, stolen during the night and sold to a pack of vampires that were nested within one of the nearby villages.”
“How did you find this out? I never knew any of this happened…” you replied.
“Don’t look so ashamed, little witch,” Stefana cooed. “I’m glad that you decided to leave Caliacra. It took quite a while for things to regain a small semblance of normalcy. The town was in a state of disarray, with so many people going missing and attacks on people’s homes being so frequent.”
“I just don’t understand... ” you seethed and your hands clenched together in anger. “I just don’t understand how they can call us evil and then go and do such heinous things to innocent people… selling them off as though they were nothing but cattle… it’s disgusting.”
“I agree,” Stefana concurred. “So when Carmilla and I managed to uncover what was going on, we took care of that nest the following night.”
Carmilla giggled beside you, smacking her lips together as she added the final touches to your visage. “They hardly stood a chance.”
“What about the church?” you wondered. “Surely the one running Caliacra would have noticed them go missing. I doubt they would have been pleased to lose such consistent income.”
“Oh we took care of them too,” Stefana clarified and spritzed you with a glass vial tinted light pink.
Your nose twitched as she sprayed your neck, arms, and chest, and you were surprised to find that it smelled exactly like roses.
“We paid them a visit that same night,” Carmilla said with a sly smile on her face, delicately placing rouge to your lips. “Drenched in blood and all, and we told them to head back to wherever it is they came from and tell their archbishop that the town was under new management.”
You blink, confused. “They never revealed to anyone that two vampires had essentially taken over?”
Carmilla instructs you to smack your lips together to get an even coating and you follow her lead and hear Stefana chuckle behind you.
“We told them that if they ever told a single soul, that we would hunt them down and… well, may or may not have threatened to have them strung up by their insides.”
“Oh,” was all you said and nodded your head. “That’s definitely a powerful motivator to keep quiet.”
“I’m glad that you agree,” Carmilla stated and leaned back in her seat, a sense of accomplishment lighting up her expression.
“We’ve been running the town ever since,” Stefana finished as she added the final touches to your outfit. “The people were so thankful for what we had done, they all but begged us to stay so, we did, and what an honor it’s been.”
“It makes me so happy to see that my hometown has been left in the care of someone like you, Stefana,” you take a gentle hold of her hand and give it a squeeze. “I know my coven would be very grateful as well.”
She leans down and pecks the top of your forehead. “Earning the approval of someone such as yourself means so much to me, little witch. Thank you,” her long fangs gleamed as she beamed down at you, the sight causing your heart to skip a beat.
“Now,” she whispered in your ear. “Why don’t you take a look at the glorious Caliacra beauty sitting before you?”
When you finally gaze upon yourself in the mirror, face decorated to perfection, your hair was done up beautifully, and your ears and neck adorned by extravagant jewels… you had trouble even recognizing yourself.
A delightful gasp rings out from you as you slowly reach up to delicately trace your fingers across the matching diamond necklace and earrings, and coquettishly flutter your eyelashes as you admire all of Carmilla’s handiwork.
“You made me look so beautiful,” you muttered, voice light with whimsy.
“You are beautiful.” Stefana corrected.
A blush creeps up your neck at her compliment. “You flatter me too much, Stefana,” you replied breathlessly.
“Nonsense,” she stated. “Seeing as you’re ready to court nearly everyone there,” she teased and pinched your cheek when you turned away from her in embarrassment. “Feel free to entertain yourself however you wish while Carmilla and I begin getting ready for the night. All I ask is that you have an accompanying guard with you should you wish to explore the castle grounds. Wouldn’t want you getting lost before tonight,” she said and then frowned as she mumbled, “Vlad would probably kill me…”
Your attention was instead drawn to one of the large bookshelves in a corner of the room, its shelves jam-packed with a varying assortment of novels you were certain predated even your own birth.
“I think I’ll just occupy myself with those books,” you said quietly and carefully stood up to test out the new shoes they had given you as well. They were fairly flat, thankfully, and your confidence slowly grew as you walked over to take a seat on the black velvet chaise lounge that sat beside the dark wooden shelves.
Your finger traced over the spine of a few books, unsure of what to pick since half of them appeared to be in languages you had no idea even existed. You finally settled on one called Le Livres de la Cité des Dames, a translated version of an allegorical commentary written by someone named Christine de Pizan. You quickly found yourself immersed in the prose, her lovely writing telling the story of famous women throughout the ages coming to guide Christine in building a city dedicated to women, celebrating their accomplishments. Now, this is something you could get behind!
You had no idea how much time had passed, comfortably laying on that chaise lounge, only occasionally checking in on your hostesses when you heard Stefana debating about which pair of earrings to wear or heard Carmilla griping about her hair not cooperating with her vision.
As you went to turn the page, you felt a tap on the top of your head and when you glanced up, you were face-to-face with Stefana.
Her eyelids were coated in a shimmering gold powder that made her look even more celestial, her lips a deep red rouge that contrasted greatly to her pale skin. Some of her long black hair had been pulled back by a clip made of white gold decorated in pristinely cut sapphires, that had a lovely sheer white veil trailing behind her on the end. Her dress was magnificent, pitch black in color with long, ruffled sleeves that were lined with layers of golden meshed lace. The same lace pattern was sewn around the edges of her top, which had been designed so that it hung off of her shoulders, and her skirt, which pooled around her feet. Her nails had been repainted a dark red and her neck, arms, and slightly pointed ears were adorned in dazzling gold jewelry.
Carmilla stood beside her, looking equally as stunning. She wore a rich red dress whose sleeves were slit near the top of her shoulder so that the rest of the fabric appeared to dance fluidly around her while she walked. The insides were lined with black silk and the trim with black velvet. The skirt was long and trailed behind her, a deep cut down the middle allowing her legs to easily show through its many layers, similar to her sleeves. She had blushed her pale cheeks and opted for a lighter, more natural color on her lips while using reds and pinks around her eyes. Beautiful ruby earrings dangled off of her ears on a thin golden chain and a long, golden arm cuffs in the shape of roses coiled around both of her slender arms. Her nails had also been done up for the occasion, with Carmilla opting to go for pitch black to seemingly parallel Stefana’s own dress and nail colors.
You could not help but stare at the two of them, in complete awe that these immortal goddesses allowed for a lowly mortal such as yourself to even gaze upon them. “You two look absolutely ravishing. I doubt any other couple is going to be able to compete with you.”
Stefana grinned and offered her hand to help you stand. “I’m sure that title will go to my brother and Lisa. However, I won’t complain about being a close second.” she offered the crook of her arms to both you and Carmilla and slowly escorted you out of the room.
As the three of you walked down the halls of Stefana’s home, you noticed that you weren’t heading in the direction of her office, where the distance mirror was housed.
“Shouldn’t we be heading back?” you asked and turned around to try and catch a glimpse of that parlor.
“Where do you think we’re going, little witch?” Stefana queried.
“But…” you said and frowned. “We’re not heading back to the distance mirror?”
Carmilla chuckled behind the lace fan she held within her hand. “Oh, you sweet little thing… it would be so rude for us to enter that way!”
Your eyes narrowed a bit as you squinted up at her in mild disbelief. “Wouldn’t… wouldn’t it be more efficient to travel that way?”
“It would,” Stefana replied. “But for occasions such as these, one must arrive on the premises with a bit of finesse,” she gave you a smirk and finally stopped at the end of a hallway that was blocked off by an enormous wooden door.
Two guards stood posted, their faces hidden behind their metal helmets and when they noticed Stefana, they simultaneously bowed before the three of you. When they finished with their greeting, they slammed their lances against the hard stone floor and the door slowly creaked open.
Waiting for you outside was an ornate carriage made of sleek black wood, covered in golden decals. Two large black stallions stood at the ready, huffing and puffing as the coachman adjusted their reins from his plush seat.
“Wow,” you gasped and stumbled a bit as you followed Stefana’s lead to the stairs that lead inside the luscious caravan. You felt your heart begin to hammer in excitement as you bundled up the edges of your dress to prevent it from getting dirty and ascended the stairs, finding a spot besides Stefana, who sat in between you and Carmilla.
Stefana tapped the roof once and after a moment, you heard the coachman make a clicking sound and the carriage surged forward as the two stallions whinnied and kicked into gear.
You had never been a huge fan of riding in these things, but the seats in Stefana’s personal carriage were so comfortable that you were almost certain you could have fallen asleep in there. Gently, you pushed aside the velvet curtain to get a peek outside, surprised to find that twilight was already beginning to creep on the horizon and the moon was slowly starting to appear within the ever-darkening sky.
The trip was much shorter than you had anticipated and before long, the carriage was slowing down to a halt.
“We’ve arrived, mistress,” you heard the coachman say.
“Excellent,” Stefana replied and pointed to the door to your left. “Exit through there, little witch. If you need any help, Christopher, my coachman, will be there to assist you.”
You nodded your head and pulled down on the golden handle, carefully stepping down the ladder as slowly as you could, even if your whole body was humming in anticipation.
When you rounded past the carriage, the sight before you left you breathless. Castlevania had been transformed from its usual gothic self into something that looked like it came straight out of a children’s fairytale. Large red banners fluttered in the gentle ocean breeze and you saw that even the windowsills had been decorated with golden chains or even a string of various flowers. Colorful bouquets sat upon every step that lead to the large ornate doors of the castle, which were currently ajar, allowing the warm, energetic glow that emanated from inside to seep into the chilled air.
The sound of several slamming doors snapped you out of your trance and you realized that the three of you weren’t the first to arrive. Dozens of carriages were scattered around you and the distinct cry of horses from down the hill alerted you that the influx of guests was far from over.
It suddenly dawned on you that you were about to enter a castle filled with some of the most illustrious people within all of Wallachia--within all of Europe, if not the world --and on top of that, they were Lisa and Vlad’s family… and possibly also vampires.
You swallowed nervously and took a step back, this whole thing beginning to feel a lot more daunting than it had a few hours prior. A sudden gentle grip on your shoulder caused you to jump, but you relaxed when you found Stefana standing beside you, a kind smile on her face.
“Are you alright, little witch?”
You took a shaky breath and chuckled quietly to yourself. “I think… I think I’m just a little nervous.”
“Don’t be,” she replied and urged you forward with a gentle push. “This is a night of celebration. Just be genuine, just… be you. I promise that everything else will come naturally,” she gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “How about we make our grand entrance, hmm?”
A smile tugged on the corners of your lips and you nodded your head, taking a tight grip of your skirts as you started to confidently trek up the ornate stairs of Castlevania to the party awaiting you inside.
#castlevania#castlevania netflix#alucard fahrenheit tepes#alucard tepes#alucard castlevania#adrian tepes#lisa tepes#vlad dracula tepes#reader#female reader#carmilla#original female character#original male character#alucard tepes x reader#alucard x reader#adrian tepes x reader#alucard/reader#alucard tepes/reader#adrian tepes/reader#fan fiction#multi chapter#romance#fantasy#magic#the shield and the sword#chapter 11#goddesses and glamour
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The Cabinet of Curiosity
Previous: The Inn at Journey’s Head
"Word's come in that Holminster Switch is requesting a refreshing and a bolstering of the guard for a little while."
"Are they now?"
It had been fairly quiet for the better part of the day. Only a handful of soldiers had come in to be treated, leaving everyone at the Spagyrics with a little more free time on their hands than they were used to.
Not that there weren’t things to do still. Like cleaning (Chessamile would use the word ‘spotless’ most often, even knowing this was nearly impossible.)
"There've been reports of eaters coming closer and closer to the fields where their animals graze. The townsfolk are starting to get rather worried, I assume." Chessamile continued, brushing a stray lock of hair way from her face after wiping off her glasses.
Hanameen hummed aloud as she thought about the news. "And you're telling me this...why? It’s not as though I can go rushing out there to defend the town all by myself."
Chessamile had this almost wry looking grin about her as Hanameen went back to dusting the shelves. "Well, for starters, I've been seeing you eye those tomes as of late."
"And? What of it?" She paused, narrowing her eyes with suspicion.
It had to have been months since she last picked up any book of incantations, much less practiced them. It was a frequent enough occurrence. Life kept her and everyone else nearly scrambling all the time to make end’s meet as it was. She simply hadn’t the time.
"Aaand there's a good chance Gennar will probably be sent there as well,"
Just the thought of it made Hanameen's mouth crumple into a squiggle. She knew better than to get her hopes up.
But she just couldn't help it.
"I'm no good at throwing spells and what have you Chessamile, you know that. They need actually skilled people. You know. Skilled in fighting??"
"Well it would be as good as any a time to practice wouldn't it?"
Feather duster still in hand, she turned to face her, "Even if I did go, purely on your insistence, then who will watch the boys? I can't just leave-"
"Why I'd be delighted to watch them in your absence!" The old woman offered very dramatically, clapping her hands together. "They'll be so busy helping me they wouldn't have any time to wonder about much else. And far too tired to fight, certainly."
Hanameen chuckled a little at that, before turning away again. "Still… they'd be heartbroken if I-"
"Come now, they're not babes anymore Hanameen. They can survive several weeks without you.
With Gennar and the others there, the town will be relatively well-defended. Large scale attacks out that far north are rare, if they happen at all.”
Again Hanameen hummed with indecision as she mulled it over in her head.
It was true. With work and the boys, she hardly had any time to herself to practice magic, or do much of anything else.
While she held little interest in the more offensive side of magic-casting, she found the healing aspects of it to be far more useful to her own needs (as well as others.)
When was the last time she'd tried to cast any sort of spell? Well- months of course, but she hardly remembered anything that she did at the time.
Letting out a breath she cleared her head, searched for a target and then closed her eyes. Slowly she raised her hands and focused on a nearby flower pot, willing a barrier to form around it.
The air shimmered brightly and distorted, as though the pot were caught in a soap bubble that engulfed it entirely. But she couldn't hold it there for long.
With a sharp exhale, the magic barrier shattered and faded away.
Hanameen looked dismayed as Chessamile came and patted her encouragingly on the shoulder.
"So,"
"I don't know,"
She clapped both hands on Hanameen’s shoulders and bobbed her back and forth in a teasing way. "Geennnnn will be theeerree~"
Hanameen couldn't even stifle a laugh. "Oh stop! I would just get in the way and distract him,"
"Trust me, that boy NEEDS to be distracted by his own family if that's what it'll take for him to realize he needs to come home more often. It's ridiculous. Twelve years of this nonsense, running around out and about saving the world, doesn’t even remember to come home to care for his own children! Or falls right asleep the minute he does!"
"I know...but… well, he has an important job- they all do out there."
"Bah, men's all time famous excuse. Important job or no, he has children that need their father, and a partner who needs him.
...Or at the very least you could start scouting out someone else!"
Hanameen snorted rather hard as they both broke out into laughter. "Wicked white- Chessamile! Why don't you go instead? So you can look for someone you fancy yourself?"
"Ohh you know I would, if we didn't have so many of our own running in here covered in bumps and bruises and anything else they can think of, begging me to kiss them better.
Though, I could just wait for the Exarch's new companion to come back. Now he's quite a handsome looking fellow with those adorably round ears of his,"
Hanameen wiped at her eye. "Goodness, you'll scare him away with that devilish side of yours."
"I don't make it easy for them, it's true." Chessamile nodded with all the wisdom of a sage.
"I should go find the boys, see what they think about all this." The last thing Hanameen wanted to do was upset them by suddenly leaving without any warning.
Fenick wouldn't have it. And Arval? She didn't even want to think about it (and no doubt all the crying and blubbering that would ensue.)
"They might be more willing if their father is involved." Chessamile suggested, sifting through a crate of clinking, colorful medicinal bottles. "You know how much they miss him. Even Arval, despite him never saying so."
"I know," Hanameen nodded in agreement. "...I'll speak to them after supper.
You'll be all right here on your own this evening?"
"Of course!" Chessamile waved her off. "Go on now! And let me know when I need to start preparing a spot for them in my apartment! We'll have a wonderful time!"
"I will. See you tomorrow."
As Hanameen left the Spagyrics, she couldn’t help but feel that tinge of worry, tainting every other thing that would come to mind.
To just up and leave like that...
What if something went awry? That was always the danger of going out into the field. What if something happened to Gennar if she didn’t go? What if something happened to her if she did? As much as she trusted Chessamile and Fae-Hann and the others… well…
Fenick and Arval needed her.
But, Chessamile was right too, in that they weren’t as little anymore… And how would she ever find time to practice her own magic in order to build her own skills?
There were no easy answers. And she was loathe to bring it up to either Fenick or Arval to begin with.
As the Rotunda came within view, Hanameen sighed loudly, drooping with the sound as she frowned at the aetheryte swirling around in the center. It was quite mesmerizing. But she willed herself to stay focused.
Rather than head off towards the marketplace as initially intended, she turned and walked the other way, to the lower levels of the Crystarium.
It had been quite some time since she paid the towering vault that was the Cabinet of Curiosity a proper visit.
________
The library tower in the Trivium had always been something of a marvel unique to the Crystarium. Hundred- no, thousands upon thousands of books sat there in shelves that went all around the room in a circle. Ones that had survived the disaster of the time after the Flood from ages long past, all meticulously cared for by a handful of archivists and scribes who worked relentlessly to protect them. Not even the gilded halls of Eulmore held such a collection.
Or perhaps they did. But Hanameen wasn't sure if they had had their own library to begin with (would there be any time to read? Living a life of luxury? Surely there would.)
The place almost echoed as she pushed the massive doors shut, once again sealing the relative silence back within the library's walls.
The Cabinet of Curiosity it had been dubbed by the residents from long ago, back during the beginnings of the city when it had first been built.
And what a fitting name it was.
In the center stood a column with stairs that spiraled all around it and up to the very top, sectioning off different levels with even more books along the way.
Hanameen took a few slow and aimless steps, merely enjoying the feeling of being able to have a leisurely look around at all.
Inevitably, several tomes caught her attention during her browsing, and she pulled one off of its shelf. A dark blue book with gilded letters and gold on the pages, and a well loved ribbon-bookmark dangling limply from the top.
She remembered the book. It had been one of her favorites growing up.
Flipping through it brought back memories of palaces in faraway lands with magical gardens and lords and their knights- not unlike the stories she had read to Fenick and Arval a hundred times over.
Gennar had been somewhat of a gentleman back then. Somewhat. What with the holding doors open for her, laying his coat on puddles for her to walk over, inviting her to dance in that funny way he would try… The memories made her practically swoon. And she would have done so aloud, had she not shaken herself out of the daydream and back into reality.
That's right...incantations… spell books.
Clearing her throat awkwardly (it wasn't like anyone was watching,) she climbed the column stairs to the top level. "Moren! There you are!" Only to startle the hume librarian with short green hair in even greener-robes into dropping a whole stack of books he'd been carrying. "Oh! Sorry-"
"Hanameen! Wh- I didn't even hear anyone coming up the stairs! You haven't been back in some time," He scrambled to pick everything up, only to offer a sigh of thanks as she stooped down to help him. "Is Fenick growing bored of the same stories? I might have a few he may be interested in-"
"Oh, no it's nothing like that." She dusted off her skirt folds once Moren had righted himself. "I'd actually come to see what your selection of spell books was. I still have that beginner's guide that you let me borrow months ago, though I'm afraid I haven't had much of an opportunity to study it all that closely."
Once Moren had set down the stack of books onto a nearby surface, he put a hand to his chin, gazing upwards as he thought. "Other spell books? Well… I can tell you that all of the knowledge builds upon itself. If you haven't mastered the basics you might have a harder time with the others…
N-not that I would know! My skills lie in the preservation of antiques and old literature!! Not casting spells to send eaters to oblivion!
I assume that's what you were aiming to learn anyway?"
"Not exactly…
Holminster Switch calls for aid and Chessamile recommended I test my skills out in the actual field. Which...would be a much quicker and more effective way to learn but-"
"Learn on the job with eaters about?! She's mad that one!! That's dangerous!
And besides, who would care for Fenick and Arval??"
Hanameen let out a light sigh as she rolled her eyes. "I know- I'm in agreement with you there...but," Chessamile did have a point still.
"And she did offer to watch them while I was gone."
Moren looked slightly dismayed by the answer but held his objections nonetheless. "Well, if I were you, I would plan on studying every minute of the day just to even hope I stood a chance out there. For one minute even!
Let me see what I have…"
"I haven't decided yet, I was going to think about it tonight." She added as he motioned for her to follow him back down the steps to the floor below them.
There he perused through the shelves, plucking out tome after tome until he had another armful of books with him, letting them practically drop onto another nearby studying table (weren't you supposed to be delicate with old books?)
"You could branch off into these, from the one I gave you… If I'm remembering it correctly that is. I think I am."
Hanameen came forward, picking each book up and scanning through random pages.
"I think this will do. Thank you Moren."
"You're not going to lug all those out there with you? I suggest these, if you plan on it," He held two up out of the bunch and offered them to her, which she took.
"Well now if I wanted to be a big bumbling target I'd just tie a sign to my head. These two?"
"Yes, they review the basics well enough and delve into the more advanced aspects of barriers and such."
"Perfect! Just what I needed."
Moren looked relieved, at the very least. "Excellent then. Just...please try not to damage them, you know how finding copies is a nightmare."
"And since when have I ever not been careful with books?" Hanameen smiled innocently.
"Since Arval…" Moren muttered before hiding the comment with a cough. As if he could, from an elf. "A-anyway you'd probably best be on your way! You're going to have a lot of studying to do tonight!"
With renewed confidence Hanameen gave a firm nod as she turned to go back downstairs. "Oh won't I. Thanks again Moren, I'll be sure to bring these two back safe and sound! I promise!"
The hume nodded in return and gave a small wave as she left through the large doors and back out into the Trivium. Only after she was gone did he stop hiding the concerned look about his face.
#dovah writing#hana gets a turn now!#im actually really enjoying writing her#im also still getting over the trope of 'girl charas are only interesting when theyre masculine' cuz thats simply not true
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Men of their word.
The signal of the last trial manifests itself in the most radiant beam of light ever seen, just above the centre of the judgement plaza, where those who once were exiles come back to their people once more. Amidst the shining curtain of the Shimmer-pool, a crackle, and then a booming wave of dust washes the light away. The cloud settles. An enormous shadow stands over it. White haired demon of a man, in a golden mantle draped over a blue-and-red shawl, powerful set of horns, and skin darkened by the years waiting in the deserts of the exile.
He walks a few steps, and then collapses on his knees.
An ash-colored sap comes running to his aid. Soon, they embrace.
“I told you that one time…” whispers Oralech… “I would see you here or there, once again.”
“I know,” sobs Volfred, “I knew you were a man of your word.”
***
The alcove whitened under the slowly falling snow. The dark evening accentuated by the cold, had a single dot of roaring and warm red. The hearth besides the Blackwagon, with wood piled up high, provides a bit of solace against the incoming storm. Right on the top of the stockpile, full of stones and lumber, rests a very satisfied Ti’zo, smiling and tired. At the first sign of his trembling sleep, Tariq walks towards the little imp, and leaves his hat over the quivering body of the true winner of the match, with enough care that he can breathe. When Tariq turns around, he finds himself observed by Volfred, curious and smiling, and by Oralech, stifling poorly a laugh
- “I would say that you need your hat, Minstrel, since it’s confusing to ask where does the white of your head end and where does the snow start.” Volfred quips and Oralech loses control. His booming laughter is contagious enough for Tariq to trace a smile in his pale face.
- “Ti’zo earned this small boon.” Tariq sighs. “We wouldn’t want to make our little star of the night sick due to this cold day. Even Erisa felt the brunt of the weather up here, as she is finally fast asleep in the Blackwagon. The night promises an even colder time.”
- “You’re not wrong. Oralech, please fetch something to stoke the fires higher.”
Oralech, still smiling, ambles to the stockpile and brings out four of the biggest logs he can carry, throws them in the flame unceremoniously, and returns to the stone where he was sitting. A small pleasant silence fills the atmosphere, as the fire soon grows and rages. The storm placates, and the three men envelop themselves in their coats. Oralech and Volfred bundle together, the fire reflecting in their eyes. Tariq brings out a lute and plays a small song, the one about Plurnes.
- “You know… I think I’m going to miss Brighton dearly, all in all.” Oralech says with sadness.
- “We all will.” Tariq replies “But he earned his reprieve.”
- “And you will soon follow him.” Volfred adds. “Perhaps you will regain the chance to practice medicine, even.”
- “That’s somewhat a relief, if I’m honest!” Oralech beams with the chance, and the flame shines in his eye. “I’m afraid I could lose my healing skill… I only practiced on the battlefield. It’s not the same to be able to attend wounded soldiers, with a permanent sense of urgency, than to bring health to a child. I would very much like that.”
Volfred pulls his head lower into his coat. A tinge of bitterness in his eyes betrays the signal of fear and loss he might experience, but beyond that, a feeling that he may not be able to conceal anymore.
- “I would also like to return to the city, too… but I would be always afraid. Even if I were to be free, the literacy ban would just eventually return me to this place.”
- “If I were there, I would protect you. That’s why I think I need to return before any of us returns. I must protect those that would be sent to the downside for reading.” Oralech insists with fervor, looking at the diminished sap with interest.
- “Then you would be sent back too. You know how the ranks of the military are. You’ve told me before.”
Oralech is overcome by a cold anger. His memories come flashing by, uncalled. His eyes set on the flaring coals.
- “Forget the high ranks. I believe it is unfair how our soldiers die for the pleasure of older men who don’t see blood in their lives. Young men run a thousand miles to make war, in the name of people who wouldn’t walk ten meters to sit and talk with their enemies. I wonder how many wars would have been prevented if the great generals had made the right call at the right time… They enforce the literacy ban to make themselves necessary. Many years I wondered if the highway remnants were right when they attacked us, but now I’ve roamed this land, this endless desert, and now I believe their generals may not be that different. Fools, all of them. I damn them for sending us here.”
He stops to catch his breath. Volfred moves with his hand a strand of the brown mop of hair away from the man’s eyes. Tariq’s song switches to a slightly livelier tune about the old king.
- “I’m sorry that you feel that way. I understand your motivations, but a single nightingale won’t make our summer. We’ll need more of us up there”
- “So you agree with me, Volfred?”
- “Oralech, I told all about you my revolutionary plan. Of course, I agree with you. However, it requires both time, and faith. Faith in ourselves and faith in others to come.”
- “What do you mean by that?”
- “He states the obvious, Oralech.” Interrupts Tariq while still aptly playing. “The Nightwings are a barely working team as it stands right now. You are four. Were you to leave, that would make them three. Erisa, Volfred, and the Great Star, Ti’zo. What would happen were both you and Volfred disappear from the Downside?”
Volfred sits up straighter, and Oralech hunches back a bit.
- “The Nightwings would disappear.”
- “That’s very much right.” Tariq agrees with his small smile disappearing. “Volfred is Right. You need to set a legacy.”
- “And that will not be done by us sitting here wondering how to fix our situation upside, and not thinking of our remaining days here.” Volfred pleads. “The stars dictate our path, but that means we must grow. That is our purpose, here. To bring everyone under our wing and protect them. I want us to be more than the team that oversees and judges of the future liberation. I want us to be also a symbol of hope.”
- “But it will take time, and I might be discovered.” Oralech mumbles. “They might kill me. They might kill you. We need safety in numbers and in position.”
- “I know, but that’s why we need the plan.” Volfred turns and grabs Oralech by his hand. “We’re little more than aggrandized sphinxes, asking for others to solve our riddle. We must be on the proposing side. We must come to the light, and face it undaunted. If we do things right, I’m sure we will find each other eventually. I will be there. I will rejoin you.”
- “I’d hate to wait. Were you not to come, I’d seek you, and I’d find you, and I’d berate you for taking so much of my time.”
The two of them look at each other happily, and they recline one into the other. A thought crosses the mind of Oralech: a question he now gets the chance to answer.
- “Tariq. You’ve seen most of our wars, have you not?”
- “I have, though not gladly nor by choice. I do get to see their sons.”
- “What is your take on them?”
The music stops. The lute master opens his coat and produces a green, ethereal crystal, and looks deep into it. His voice is soft, and yet, it reaches into them as if he were right beside them.
- “I think nothing of wars, though I hate conflict. It’s easy to hate something that you can see, feel or touch, but wars, to someone forced to be in the sideline, are a shapeless thing. A mass of cut limbs, sad people, and strewn tears. In the beginning, all I could think of was how lucky I was to be paired with someone whom I love so profusely…” Tariq looks at the summit longingly. “But now, even love has become a medium line. It is what I breathe, what I live, and what I am. When you are eternally happy in your station, you see others justifying themselves in the horrors they perpetuate through the power of their love, and you ask yourself if the nature of love is one alone. Can we really be driven to war because we love too much? Is our love of our country dangerous? The territory, the people, the culture… is this a valid excuse to snuff one another? I soon saw that only the dumb believe in a destructive love. They are not ready for real love, and so, they hate, and they despair, and that is what they bring to others.”
He looks at the couple, and sees them in fear.
- “That is why I enjoy love in purity and simplicity. Love in the form of a postcard, a good meal, the commonality of community. I enjoy being with you, and I will ride it out with you for a little while more, if you allow me. That is, until I must return to Celeste.”
- “You’re always welcome.” Volfred responds.
- “And even if we lose each other… We will meet whenever the stars align.” Oralech agrees.
***
“Have the stars aligned, my dear?” Oralech asks innocently.
“I will see them once your eyes stop shining bright.” Volfred Replies.
“Took me long enough to find you, but Tariq is not with me…”
“I know, and it saddens me, but now, it’s up to him to find us.”
Fin. **************************************************************************
I really hope they appreciate it. I’m not a very good writer, so I took extra effort and it took some time in the making, so, as luck would have it, here it goes. @Venhediss
@supergiantsecretsanta
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Suda, the Half-Orc Sorcerer
Misfit D&D Characters #2
Suda stepped out of the circle of onlookers and toward the screaming figure and immediately felt foolish. What was he going to do? The only thing he knew about medicine was how to use a red hot knife to close a wound, and even if that was useful in this situation, he doubted the stranger would thank him for it. And that was the other problem. Why was he calling attention to himself? In most cities, it was wiser for half-orcs like him to avoid trouble by keeping a low profile. But here he was, thrusting himself into the center of a crowd.
The foolishness of this choice was confirmed when the injured stranger, a grey-bearded dwarf went wide-eyed at the sight of Suda approaching him. Even with his leg shattered from where the cart ran it over, the dwarf began trying to drag himself away, his screams of pain now tinged with anger and panic as well. “This is a bad idea.” Suda thought yet again. But he didn’t turn away. In fact as he moved closer, Suda felt a buzzing anticipation in his blood, strangely similar to the way he used to feel drawing his axe before a fight. “It’s alright,” he said, not sure he believed it himself, and knelt beside the dwarf.
For the first time, he got a close look at the dwarf’s leg. It was a mess, a mangled, twisted bloody knot that resembled a smashed sausage more than a leg. The dwarf trying to claw across the ground away from Suda and obviously causing himself more pain. “Stop moving,” he growled at the dwarf, and with a large, rough hand, pinned his chest to the ground. A few bystanders, one dwarf among them with his hand on a weapon at his belt, jumped forward at this seemingly violent behavior, but Suda looked up and glared at them. “It’s alright,” he bellowed. They all stopped in their tracks. Suda’s voice had rung out far louder than he expected and seemed to resonate off of the stone and timbers of the surrounding buildings. All the nearby onlookers went silent and still.
Surrounded by this sudden calm, Suda was a storm of emotion. Something had surged within him when he spoke. The only feeling he could compare it to was the surge of adrenaline in battle, and he might have panicked more if it weren’t for the strange certainty that grew within him as his own words echoed around him. He could do this. He still didn’t know how, but he could do it. With a one hand still on the chest of the red-faced, agonized dwarf, Suda reached his other hand to the mangled leg. In a voice that was barely more than a whisper, he said. “It’s going to be alright.”
He touched the shattered leg.
Light. Heat. Power.
Once before, Suda had felt this kind of energy flow into him. Now, he felt it rise up within his belly like a storm, and he somehow knew how to channel and conduct it into the agonized figure in front of him. There was a shimmering glow around Suda hands, and the dwarf suddenly grew calm. His breathing slowed, and most remarkably of all, his leg began to straighten. Suda felt bone solidify beneath his touch and in a moment, only the blood stains and torn clothes gave any indication that an accident had fallen.
“What… what did you do to me?” the dwarf asked, eyes now wide in amazement instead of fear.
Suda didn’t know what he had done. He didn’t know how he could be in possession of that kind of power. But he knew that it felt right. He knew that he had done a good thing, had done what was right. Then he looked up. Confused, shocked faces looked down at him. Faces of humans, gnomes, elves, dwarves, halflings, but no one who looked like him. He rose slowly. There was a commotion up the street. “This way!” a voice called. “Here! I’ve brought a cleric.” A ruddy dwarf burst into the circle, followed by a serene looking woman in ornate robes. They were amazed to discover that the victim they had come to save was now climbing to his feet with a goofy grin on his face. “What happened here?”
“I’m healed!” the older dwarf exclaimed, shuffling in a clumsy little dance. “That big fella’ - the orcish one, he healed me!”
Suda was trying desperately to disappear into the crowd, but it was impossible. “Miracle!” the second dwarf cried. “It’s a miracle! Thank you, sir. Thank you!” And Suda felt his large hand seized by a rough smaller one in a vigorous and grateful handshake.
“Indeed,” the cleric said, “most wondrous. Tell me, stranger, to what god’s favor do we owe this miracle?”
“God?”
“Of course. Such healing is assuredly the work of divine powers. Though… I see no holy emblem upon your person…”
“I don’t… I’m not…” What did they think he was? A cleric too? The thought was preposterous. But then, what was he? As Suda’s thoughts swirled in confusion, the cleric’s eyes narrowed. “I think perhaps you should come with me to the temple,” she said. “You are clearly a traveler. Come rest, and we can discuss what really transpired here today.”
Suda knew a threat when he heard one. “I need to go,” he said and began pushing through the crowd.
“I insist!” she called. Suddenly two figures Suda hadn’t noticed before, dressed in similar colors to the cleric but equipped with weapons and armor, pushed forward toward Suda.
Panic. It churned inside Suda and began to awaken whatever power it was that resided inside him. “Leave me alone!” Suda roared, and once more his voice rose supernaturally loud. Everyone around him, including the approaching soldiers drew back in shock. Seizing the opening, Suda turned and fled through the sudden gap in the crowd. He was briefly aware of shouting, but he didn’t look back. He ran and ran and ran and didn’t look back.
#misfits#suda#oc#my oc#original character#character concept#d&d character#future characters#fantasy character#half-orc#socrcerer#celestial soul#short story#fiction
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