#why did i have to go through thinking abigail died twice

[nhescio]

Murder Family

[vanillasakura]

RDRSW21 Day 2- Epilogue

Title: I Learned it All By Heart

Words: 2098

Pairing: Abigail/Sadie

Warnings/Notes: NSFW

(Title from comme tu dis by Pomme)

≿━━━━━━━━━━༺❀━━━━━━━━━━≾

I'll try to believe in myself. Like you say that you believe in me

“He almost loo.. Loo-kehd? No, that’s not a word.”

“You sure you don’t need any help, Ma?” Jack asked, looking at Abigail from across the kitchen table.

“I’ve got this, thanks though. I know this one, I know I do, it just always trips me up.”

“I can just read it to you, if you want. Or if you’d prefer that I wait until Miss Gaskill is able to come over, I don’t mind at all.”

“Jack, I wanna read what you wrote. I know I can’t offer as good advice as Mary-Beth, if I can even offer any at all, I just need to work on my readin’, or I’ll never get it at all.”

“That is true.” Jack clicked his tongue. “Do you want me to give you a hint?”

Abigail sighed. “Sure, that might help.”

“Two os next to each other don’t always make an ooo sound. Sometimes, like in the word ‘good’, they make-”

“Looked! ” Abigail exclaimed triumphantly, grabbing the pencil she kept next to her and writing down the word, its pronunciation, and Jack’s hint in her journal. She knew the alphabet by now (largely thanks to a mix of help from Jack, Charles, John, and, whenever she could make the trip west, Mary-Beth), but still struggled with bigger, more complicated words. Still, Jack told her she was doing great, and she supposed that was true, given that she could read through most of his old penny-novels now.

“Anyways, where was I.. ‘He almost looked like someone you would expect to find in a bib… bib-li-cal story, but this was not the bib … oh, bible, this was real life. This was a real man, and one who had lived... through his fair share of hardships, if the scars and the lines that marred his face were anything to go by.’ Jack,” Abigail put the paper down for a moment, looking her son in the eye, “this is amazing so far. I could never formulate words the way that you do.”

“Thanks Ma, I appreciate it.” Jack smiled, and Abigail did too. She was blessed that, despite all of the hardships he had gone through, Jack was still a happy and polite kid. He still loved reading more than anything (she doubted that would ever change, but why should it, when it provided him a way to pass his time and gave him a way to be happy?) and had been working on writing since he was eight or nine. Ever since John had run into Mary-Beth about six months ago, however, she had been coming out to Beecher’s Hope every few months, not only helping around the farm, but also doing her best to work with Abigail on her reading and giving Jack pointers on his writing. Honestly, as long as Jack was happy, Abigail was content. She wasn’t alone anymore, like she had been for so long, she had a wonderful lover, a husband who cared for her even if the romance had faded away, and said husband’s lover to lighten up her life in ways she had never dreamed possible for someone like her.

“You two been okay while I was gone?” The door swung open, and Abigail turned around to see Sadie walking in, a pleasant smile on her face.

“Sadie!” Abigail cried, getting up from her place at the table and running over to the other woman, practically throwing herself into her arms and kissing her cheek gently. 

Sadie chuckled, smoothing her hands over Abigail’s hair. “Oh come on, Abi, I didn’t leave you alone for that long, only eight hours or so.”

“Still, I missed you.” Abigail insisted, pulling back a bit to give Sadie some space. “D’you need anything? I bet you’re exhausted.”

“I’m alright, just need to rest a bit is all.” Sadie walked over to the table, peaking at the paper in front of Jack. “You still working on your story?”

“Yep. It’s coming along pretty well, too. Miss Gaskill said she should be able to make it over in two weeks or so, so I’m trying to get three more chapters written before then.”

“Ooh, Mary-Beth’s on her way? That’s great news! I hope John and Charles will be back from… wherever the hell they are before then so we can have a real party.”

“I’m hopeful they’ll be back too. It’s always great when everybody’s here.” Jack smiled.

“That it is.” Sadie agreed, moving to sit down in the empty chair to Jack’s left.

“Oh, I figure we should tell you; Ma’s been getting a lot better on her reading!”

“Hm, is that so?” Sadie glanced in Abigail’s direction, a small smile forming on her face as their eyes met.

“I mean, I suppose.” Abigail blushed, embarrassed by the attention. “

“Suppose? Ma, you got through three pages of my work in about fifteen minutes, and that’s including the time you took to write down the hard words and your notes and such. You’re doing amazingly well! Just wait until Mr. Jones and Pa and Miss Gaskill all find out, they’re gonna be blown away!”

“I’m pretty blown away too.” Sadie said, her eyes still locked onto Abigail’s. “You should be proud of yourself. Readin’ ain’t easy.”

Abigail somehow felt herself turning redder, and spun on her heel to go and work on sewing. She heard Sadie laugh behind her, the sound ringing out like brazen bells.

--

Abigail watched as Sadie changed into her nightdress, entranced. She was gorgeous, her sun-kissed figure nearly glowing in the low light. Something about the way that she went about unbuckling and unbuttoning every piece of clothing was enough to put Abigail in a spell. She still didn’t know how she had gotten so lucky so as to be with a woman so wonderful as her.

“I meant it when I said I missed you, y’know.” Abigail said.

Sadie turned around pulling her nightdress over her head. “And I meant it when I said I was proud of you.”

The comment had Abigail blushing again, biting her lip as she tried to avert her gaze from Sadie’s piercing eyes.

“I’m serious, Abi.” She walked over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge next to her. “Let me compliment you, please.”

“It ain’t anythin’ that really warrants a compliment. It’s pretty straightforward, I just need to get around to doin’ it more often.” Abigail laughed. “If I had started a bit earlier, I would probably be literate by now. And if I had more time I could dedicate to it, I’d be a hell of a lot closer.”

“I’d already say you’re pretty damn near literate now.” Sadie pressed a kiss to Abigail’s temple. “You can read Jack’s old books without a problem, and with someone’s help, you can read bigger works, like his work in progress.”

“I appreciate it Sadie, I really do, I just don’t know if it’s somethin’ that really warrants this much.”

“Well I sure as hell do.” Sadie reached her hand out, rubbing it softly in circles on Abigail’s thigh. “If anything, I think this kind of progress deserves a reward, don’t you?”

Abigail made a happy noise, resting her head on Sadie’s shoulder. “Not sure I’d say that much, but I’m the last person to be complaining.”

“Good.” Sadie reached her free hand out, turning so she faced Abigail and letting it rest on her cheek. “Because I’m gonna force you to be proud of yourself.”

Abigail wasn’t sure just who leaned in first, all she knew was that their lips eventually met and they were kissing, slow and warm and relaxing. Sadie slid the hand on Abigail’s cheek back, letting it tangle in her hair as she undid her braid. All the while, the hand on Abigail’s thigh kept stroking.

They broke apart momentarily, Abigail lifting her night dress up and over her head, casting it somewhere off the side of the bed. Sadie’s face lit up, and she eased Abigail down onto the mattress gently, kissing her once more, catching her bottom lip and nibbling gently.

“‘M gonna make you feel so good, Abi.” Sadie drew her hands up and along Abigail’s breasts, smiling at the breath that caught in her throat as she did so. “Just like you deserve.”

“Mm, why don’t you show me then, instead of tellin’ me?” she teased, unable to help herself. “Don’t you think that would be better?”

“Hm, maybe you’re right…” Sadie traced the outline of Abigail’s left nipple, smirking at the shaky gasp she let out. “Need to get you nice and wet for me first, though.”

“Then touch me where I need it.” Abigail sighed again as Sadie kept teasing her nipples, spreading her legs in an attempt to entice her lover. “Sadie…”

“Fine, you do deserve it after working so hard today.” Sadie let one of her hands dip down between Abigail’s legs, finding her clit and massaging in slow, steady circles. “This feel good?”

“Yes.” Abigail breathed out, arching her back into Sadie’s touch. “Don’t stop, please.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Sadie eased herself down, using her left elbow to support herself as she leaned over Abigail and whispered in her ear. “You’re so smart, d’you know that? You pick up on things so quickly, you always take the time to teach yourself about things, you think things through logically…” Sadie trailed off, scraping her teeth along the side of Abigail’s neck. “It’s attractive. It’s so attractive, Abigail. You’re so attractive.”

“Were you thinkin’ that earlier?” she asked, smiling as pleasure fizzed through her. “You sure were lookin’ at me like somethin’-- fuck, Sadie -- somethin’ was on your mind.”

“I sure was. Damn near wanted to kick Jack outta the house and take you right there on the table. But that’s not all. You wanna know what else I was thinkin’ about?” Sadie’s breath fanned down Abigail’s neck.

“What?”

Sadie pulled back a bit so she could get a better look at Abigail, smiling down at her as though she were the only thing in the world.

“I was thinkin’ about how lovely you are. How cute you are when you blush, how perfect you always are… you’re so attractive, Abi. You always have been.”

Sadie’s words drew a moan out of Abigail, who began to grind against her fingers. “Sadie, my love…”

“Shh, I gotcha. I’ve always gotcha.” Sadie moved her finger down Abigail’s slit, circling her entrance once, twice. “I think you’re wet enough now, my darling.”

Abigail had to bite down on her lip to try and keep herself at least somewhat quiet as Sadie slid into her, stroking at that soft spot. “Sadie, goodness…”

“I know, that feels really good.” Sadie added a second finger, leaning in and capturing Abigail’s lips with her own once more, this kiss more heated than any previous one.

Abigail felt her legs begin to shake as she neared her peak. She pushed Sadie off of her lightly to try and warn her, but Sadie was already a step ahead, moving her mouth down to Abigail’s neck and sucking gently on a spot her collar would cover.

When Sadie’s thumb pressed into her clit, both of her fingers crooking just right, that was all, the coil in Abigail’s stomach coming undone as Sadie covered her mouth with hers, lips and tongues crashing together as Abigail rode out her high. She couldn’t remember the last time she had come this hard for seemingly no reason, but she wasn’t about to complain, not when everything felt this good.

Sadie pulled back as Abigail began to calm down, her breath hot and heavy on Sadie’s forehead as Abigail pulled her flush against her chest.

“That good, Abi?” Sadie asked, kissing the top of a breast lightly.

“Stop sellin’ yourself short.” Abigail panted, running a hand through Sadie’s undone hair. “That was amazin’ and you know it.”

“You really did deserve it, Abi. I’m so proud of you.” Sadie kissed Abigail’s breast again, wrapping an arm around her. Abigail hummed.

“I’ll take your word for it, then. If every time I do well on somethin, this is the reward I’ll get, I’m gonna be readin’ until I pass out from exhaustion.” she laughed.

“Just keep it at, Abi. I know you’ve got this, and you’re only gonna get better. You’ll be literate one day, and that day just keeps on gettin’ closer with every bit of progress you make.”

Abigail sighed happily. “Let’s both look forward to it, then.”

[buchananbarnes1991]

Unus Annus Sentence Meme Starter

“Hey buddy buddy buddy buddy!”

“Our long time colleagues are 419 hours a day deny you here!”

“Peoples dream, must first be full of blood!”

“When we arrived in my backyard, we stopped the fire.”

“We quickly eliminated the enemy, and the fight was depressing.”

“Boy am I hungry!”

“Zip zap zop!”

“I don’t know if this was your idea, but we’ll roll with it.”

“This wouldn’t be the first time like, ‘hey I’ve got an idea.’ when we told you it weeks ago.”

“With the guidance of a guardian angel, you can do anything.”

“What am I teaching you how to do?”

“You don’t need to make it! I’m making it!”

“Have you washed your hands? You should wash your hands.”

“You can have the knife when you need the knife.”

“Close the door and never go back!”

“I want you to do something for me. Take a balloon, stretch it out..nice and wide.”

“Some of us are more gifted than others.”

“Okay, so what are we doing here? What is this?”

“I think that the way that I’d kill you is..’take you by the hands. come this way. I’ve got something to show you. just something you HAVE TO SEE.’ “

“In highschool. I dated a girl...her name was, Abigail. Very smart and driven. I was a stupid boy.”

“I still hadn’t let go, but they called me to tell me. She’d let go.”

“She looked down at the ground and then looked back up me. She giggled a bit and then said ‘Oh, don’t you know? I have feelings for Troy.’ “

“When you’re a late bloomer and you spend most of your time alone in a dark room with various ‘websites’,  it turns out that feeding my entire adolescences with perverted thoughts from various unsavory sources makes a distorted impression of the act of making love.”

“After about thirty minutes of dry thrusting, I found myself incapable of completion.”

“The first time I ever had sex, I had to fake my own orgasm..just to get it over with.”

“I too was a late bloomer. I didn’t know anything about intercourse or foreplay or anything.”

“We heard the tent unzip, her thirteen year old brother came through the tent! He didn’t see us. But, we were there. He said ‘Dinner’s ready.’ Under the protection of the sleeping bag we were replied ‘OKAY!’, He exited and I-- *giggles* exited.”

“I think that’s enough therapy for one day. Remember, it’s okay to talk about embarrassing of your life.”

“You stand here..I’m gonna take my shoes off.”

“I need to climb around you.”

“Using teamwork and trust and...t-t-t....team work, you get one person from one end of the body, all the way around to the same end.”

“You think you know us, but we only show you what we want you to see.”

“Let’s get climbing.”

“I thought we were gonna watch a movie.”

“And then I PILE DRIVE YOU’RE SPINE...paralyzed for life.”

“I AM ALWAYS STABLE. Don’t even try to unstablize me.”

“Felt like an emotional burden unloaded.”

“Death comes for all of us and we’ve gotta prepare.”

“It’s a beautiful world, with a lot of caskets.”

“I’m just thinking about America...it’s not a great time to think about America.”

“Can we see some different caskets? Can you show us some metal ones, some wood ones?”

“Let’s start with the highest! And then we’ll work down to where we’re comfortable.”

“Why is Mahogany like the universally known wood? It’s used in all the movies, everyone talks about it. If they want quality, they want a Mahogany.”

“Obviously it’s a beautiful wood, but what makes Mahogany so special?”

“With Mahogany if you look at it. If you pass your eyes to the side, it changes. It goes with you.”

“You are supposed to be buried in dirt. From dust to dust.”

“I don’t want it to be too comfortable. I’d like to stay alert.”

“I don’t know, what does it mean to be afraid? I’m not afraid of death.”

“I don’t like the feel of velvet. I mean, I’ll touch it.”

“Mmh....velvet...”

“That’s the thing! Like old production stuff was built to last, FOREVER!”

“For now you can kneel.”

“They’re Nigerian dwarf goats. They’re gonna be your yoga partners today.”

“I twisted a man into a pretzel. I could do the same to you.”

“I twisted myself into a pretzel.”

“It’s so much more fun to do a plank with a goat on your back.”

“The goats come to you. The motto that we like to have it ‘trust the goats.’ “

“Oh, wait. Wait! I didn’t know we were competing.”

“When I did hot yoga. I kicked everyone’s ass.”

“There’s a lot goatin’ on.”

“You flinchy bastard.”

“Alright, there’s a goat there.”

“I always tell people that they will fire their massage therapists because goat massages are way better.”

“Yeah, it’s real firm.”

“Ow, oh god. Your tallons!”

“Oh, tight pants..tight pants!”

“Those are quitters who think that you have to have the perfect conditions to do things but if you can do things in times of adversity that’s when you know you’re really committed to a cause!”

“Anyone want kisses?”

“It’s okay to show emotions.”

“CRY LITTLE BITCH, CRY!”

“No one’s crazy enough to do it!”

“We knew this year was going to be hell.”

“Hey! Seven days..”

“There’s always still time for things to go wrong.”

“We’ll save them for the future.”

“No, there’s no future.”

“I hope I die in a hilarious way. I hope my death can be told as a joke, like it’s so funny how I died. People can get one last joy. One last laugh.”

“I’m not afraid of death, but I am afraid of dying.”

“Okay, we only have our sixth sense to see with. Okay? Much like Bruce Willis in the show Sixth Sense, spoiler, I know it’s new. He sees dead eggs everywhere.”

“You can do it with dominoes too, but be careful with that one cause once to get a hundred or more dominoes and you spill ‘em all over, it’s gonna take all afternoon to set ‘em back up.”

“So you better fucking see with your brain or else you won’t be able to have a good time.”

“Ouch ouch ouch! That’s not an egg.”

“I think you need to go a little slower.”

“Oh...Puppies!”

“Should we turn on the emergency camper light?”

“I’m just such a neat freak.” “You know we need to try and escape.”

“What a profound man, that shot out the load that is Tony Stark.”

“This is a literal don’t show it. Oh god, all of his nudes are right there!”

“Gone gone, forever.”

“Two idiots cause ten care pile up from buttplug dropedge.” 

“Hook car batteries up to my nipples? I’ll say yes every time!” 

“I’m not a masochist. I’m really not. I’m glad I have this uninterrupted moment to talk about this. I’m not a masochist. I’m just curious.” 

“I’ve never been hit by a car, outside of my car? What’s that like? I DON’T KNOW!” 

“Sometimes, I am an idiot and..I match your intelligence level. THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!”

“We’ve been edging father time for a year.”

“Recognize my face, thank you.”

 “Oh it was terrible. You didn’t tell me about all the bears along the way.”

“Nice camel toe.

“Do you want me to get nurse Tracy?”

“When we tried to crush those melons, SHE TOOK TWO!”

“I was thinking the other night, what if the next melon is [insert muses’s name here] skull?”

“I just like doing what I’m told.”

“A man of few words, a man of action.”

“Are our faces being used as Capchas’ now?”

“Thank you god, thats’s a good idea.”

“God said we could!”

“Doesn’t matter what you do, to keep it from ending. Once it ends. It’s gone forever.”

“I don’t know you but you’re here, a lot. I guess you’re fine.”

“I couldn’t get it off, I felt like I was gonna rip your skin off.”

“YOU WERE GONNA RIP MY SKIN OFF.”

“We got all this time that we can relax! We’ve got like a week to relax...”

“Neither of us have ever been pepper sprayed. Let’s get pepper sprayed!”

“It’s burning as if there’s some hot oil.. on my eyes.”

“My eyes are okay now.”

“This fucking sucks so bad.”

“I would not recommend getting pepper sprayed.”

“When I was a young lad. All I had was my imagination and the woodland creatures.”

“You shot me twice! I get to shoot you with a paintball at some point in the future.”

“There is no easy!”

“Math wasn’t my strong suit, nor was anything.”

“He’s an idiot but he can read well.”

“Look at me in the eyes boy, you’ll never be stronger than me.”

“How do you have time for anything, do you not sleep?”

“Your shirt needs to be off.”

“I think you just want me to take my shirt off.”

“Ugh...I’m fine.”

“I need gloves, I need gloves, hang on, I gotta get gloves!”

“I don’t wanna do anything with drainage.”

“What bone would you say hurts?”

“That’s what the picture said to do, breast feed your patient.”

“Your bed’s not very comfortable.”

“THE GONGOOZLER!”

“It not over, it’s close.”

“In six hours, we’re done.”

“It’s hard to say goodbye, but it’s important.”

“Beautiful, a sailor’s dream to come across the mermer.”

“DELETE ME!! CUT ME OUTTA HERE!!”

“I’m being an asshole now.”

“It’s not hope, it’s delusion.”

“You can’t speed your way into heaven!”

“Have you ever looked at your tongue too long in the mirror and it no longer looks like it belongs to you?”

“Biology is just a constant nightmare.”

[incorrect-sdv-quotes]

Okay so I know this is a SDV Incorrect quote blog but I really wanted to show off my SDV headcanon’s so you may ignore this post if you wish (I’ll go back to the normal posts after this, I have like 13 quotes queue’d up right now) 

Headcanon’s under the cut:

1.Alex’s real first name is Alexander he just prefers to go by Alex

2.Alex is a trans male so he was born female but transitioned to male at age 13

3.The bachelors ages are (listed youngest to oldest):

 Alex: 19 

Sebastian: 19 (one month older then Alex)

Sam: 20

Harvey: 25-30

Elliott: 36

Shane: 38

4.Despite Sam being older then him Alex is taller (if you put them side by side Sam looks taller but that’s only cause of his hair if you flattened it you could see Alex was taller)

5.Sebastian is secretly a vampire (He does look like one anyway)

6. Haley and Alex kind of have a Hazel and Xander from Bunk’d relationship where they’re kinda friends but one of them *cough cough* Haley *cough* has a huge crush on the other to where it’s at yandere point- Haley is not QUITE as crazy about Alex that Hazel is about Xander and unlike Hazel Haley can hide the craziness she does have around people but when it’s just her and Alex she’s all crazy and clingy- 

Like, she’ll call him pet names like “My jock prince” or “Alex-zandy-” or “My knight in shining armor” Etc. etc- or hug him and never let go until someone LITERALLY prys her off- Talk about nutty nutty nut-so-

7. My headcanon voices for the bachelors are: (Well some of them, if a name is in strike through that means I don’t have one for that one- yet)

Alex: Shining Armor from MLP

Sebastian

Sam: Rottmnt Leo/2020 Sonic the Hedgehog/Dewy from Ducktails (this one might change)

Harvey: Fozzie Bear (Harvey: WaKa WaKa (I’m sorry))

Elliott: Gunther from Shake It Up

Shane

8.Shane is basically the god of chickens he’s such a good caretaker of chickens that he could summon an army of chickens to peck the eyes out of everyone in town with one “Babock” CHICKEN ARMY!!

If you decided to read this post and you liked my headcanons then this is it for now more might be added later as I play the game and scroll through the SDV tags on Tumblr more 

EDIT 1: More headcanons!:

9: Elliott is an amazing actor but a horrid horror-movie actor (It’s just his screams are unrealistic he will literally just say “Aaaah” otherwise it’s the same as the rest of his acting) (This scream-glitch is an easy fix if you yell “Ghost” more on that in 10)

10: Elliott is TERRIFIED of ghosts even those cute and/or clearly fake ghosts (Why else do you think Spirits Eve/Halloween has Skeletons every year and not ghosts? No one wants to scare anyone Too bad.) Actually Alex dared Elliott to watch the Disney Junior show Vampirina which went fine until Demi came on screen- Elliott literally wet himself and screamed for 3 whole hours- (Poor Alex who had to listen to that the whole time-)

11: Elliott treats his pocket crab as his ACTUAL son, not as his pet but as his actual biological son (it’s actually really cute)

12: The portraits in this video for a portraits mod is how the characters actually look to me (Excluding Elliott Sam and Sebastian they still live in my brain with their cannon looks): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cmBW8BzSZpU&list=WL&index=1&t=5s

13: Krobus is Sebastian’s father (yeah you THINK it would not make sense along with Hc numb.5 but if you think about it if his father is a monster and his mother is human he’s gonna be born as a human-looking monster! Which is a Vampire!)

EDIT 2: Damnit. I was scrolling through this and I realized I missed a Hc and it slipped through the original post and the EDIT 1!

14: Alex has Dyslexia (this bugger Hc belonged in the original post but it slipped through both edits)

EDIT 3: MORE HEADCANNONS-

15: Both Abigail and Sebastian used to have hair to match their parents (Abby’s was brown (Like said in game) and Sebastian’s was Ginger) but due to their “Unusual” parents (Abigail: Wizard Sebastian: Krobus) their hair changed color when they got older and their mothers just pretended they died their hair so both the towns people and Abigail and Sebastian themselves would not freak out 

16: Sebastian has snake bite piercing's but he only wears them when he’s alone (he got them in the first place cause 1: Sam dared him and 2: he decided it would be a fun way to rebel against dead to Sebastian Demetrius, he didn’t have to keep them but he ended up liking the look) 

17: Sebastian owns a giant frog plush, it’s twice the size of him, is really soft and is incredibly fat (it’s to the point it’s just a circle that has stubby legs) he loves it more then anything Excluding Alex but he does not want anyone finding out he loves it let alone owns it so he stuffs it under his bed when people are in and/or near his room

18: Sebastian’s first word was literally “Froggy”

Ex:

Robin: Can you say “mama”?

Baby!Sebastian: ...Froggy!

Robin:

Robin: Out of all words your first word is “Froggy”? Really?

19: The shortest to tallest Bachelors are:

Shane

Sam (If you take his hair and go *Squishes flat*)

Alex

Sebastian

Sam (If you count the added height from his Mullet)

Harvey

Elliott (Tall stinky sea dude)

20: Sam got Sebastian to scream “Bubbles” for 5 hours straight 

Details on that:

Sam: It’s impossible to say “Bubbles” threateningly

Sebastian:

Five munities later:

Robin: Uhhhh Sam? Why is my son on the roof screaming “BUBBLES”?

21: Sebastian owns a biker jacket but he only wears it when riding his motorcycle cause the jacket makes him look way more goth then emo and he prefers the emo look over goth look despite he acts more like a goth

22: One Feast of The Winter Star Sebastian got everyone an empty box and when they opened it Seb said: “It’s a void of nothingness. Just like life.” He did not get in trouble or nothing cause your allowed to give what you want but he did not do that again

23: Sebastian requires glasses to read, he can see perfectly but when it comes to reading on a computer or on paper he needs glasses

24: Sam does a perfect Darth Vader voice and Darth Vader breathing noises

25: Sebastian has vampire powers (cause he is a vampire (Hc 5)), he knows about them and is chill about it but he does not use them unless necessary cause he just does not feel the need to use them otherwise (His powers include, immortality (he also can’t be killed cause on my take on Vampires the stuff that “Traditionally” harms/kills them is just a mith and actually does nothing to them), super strength, increased speed, fast self-healing, telekinesis (I know this is not “Traditionally” a vampire power but Seb does have it) and the ability to change into a bat)

26: Both Sebastian and Elliott are actually pretty jacked (Not Alex level jacked but still) you just can’t see it unless they’re shirt-less (but in Seb’s case at least loose the hoodie)

27: Harvey’s doctor’s mallet weapon is just as heavy and as big as himself so he rarely goes into combat cause he has trouble welding his own weapon- 

Harvey: Time to explore the mines! *grabs his giant doctors mallet*

Harvey: Nope going down. *falls backward with a thud*

28: Elliott carries at least one very sharp pencil with him at all times so if he sees a very annoying person or a slime that escaped the mines he’ll grab it and go *StAb*

29: Everyone else makes Hermit jokes around Elliott which he finds funny and annoying at the same time (They used to do the jokes about Sebastian as well but they stopped cause when they did Seb strangled them Darth Vader style) Ex of the hermit jokes:

*singing* Someone’s on the beach with a hermit! There’s a hermit on the beach I know I know! Someone’s on the beach with a hermiiiit! And the hermit’s name is Elliott!

30: If you think Elliott’s cannon SDV schedule is anti-social you should see how anti-social he gets when writing a book-

EDIT 4: Surprise, there’s more

31: Elliott is a mermaid merman (he’s a human by day half human half fish by night but he’ll change forms sooner if you dump water on him- found that out by Haley throwing water on him in hopes he’ll melt-)

32: When in ‘fish’ form Elliott’s tail is incredibly strong (if you get hit by it you’ll go flying 900 feet in the air in 5 seconds at full strength)

33:Elliott only lets Harvey call him “Elly” if anyone else does so expect Elliott to dump water on himself then hit you with his fish tail)

34:Vincent will sing The Little Mermaid song “Under the sea” around Elliott and Sebastian (Sebastian cause think about it and Elliott cause he’s an IRL Mermaid)

[jazy3]

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 17X10

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

I loved this episode! It was so so good! I loved seeing Mark and Lexie on the beach encouraging Meredith to return. I knew Lexie was going to be back based on last week’s promo, but I literally screamed out loud twice when Mark appeared on screen! I was shocked! I like what Mark and Lexie said to Meredith about the sand not being real and that the beach was in Meredith’s head and was her happy place and that it wasn’t real. She was in control even if she didn’t feel like it. Seeing her lost loved ones comforts her in her time of need. When living people she loves come to talk to her she sees them because it’s comforting.

I have a theory about who we see and why. Since this episode establishes that the beach is in Meredith’s head and she can go back if she wants to I think DeLuca appearing on the beach and them getting closer and her watching him reunite with his mother was her brain’s interpretation of people coming into her room and telling her that DeLuca had been injured and needed surgery and that he was stable and then telling her that he wasn't and had died from his injuries.

She needed closure on a tumultuous relationship so her COVID wrecked brain gave it to her in the form of a peaceful COVID fever dream during a difficult team. She sees and hears Hayes because she’s falling for him the same way that he’s falling for her and because he’s talking about her kids who she loves. She wants to go back but she’s doesn’t know how. She sees Richard and Bailey and hears their concerns and how worried they are about her because Richard is like a father to her and Bailey is a maternal figure in her life.

She wants to go back and as George says to her if she doesn’t it will break Richard. She sees Derek because he’s the love of her life and he represents death and passing over which is a real possibility and option. His presence comforts her in a way that no one else’s can. She sees George because what he did and how he died changed her life and they never got to have that closure in life. She never got to tell him that, but in her fever dream she does. She gets that closure and gets to re-examine why she did what she did. Why she goes all out for everyone like he did.

Seeing Mark and Lexie gives her closure too. Lexie provides that joy and that sunny optimism Meredith used to hate but eventually grew to love and missed so much when she died. Mark provides laughter and gives her the matter of fact tough love that she needs to hear in her time of need. Everyone plays a part and brings us joy and closure in the process. I loved Mark’s lines about how sometimes he yells in everyone’s ears to try and get them to listen and see reason. How sometimes people listen to him and think it’s their own idea and sometimes they don’t. How Callie and Arizona’s divorce made him shout.

It made me think of all the times when Lexie and Mark and other characters probably shouted at the living characters for their stupidity. Meredith deciding to waste her time dating DeLuca? Lexie and Derek definitely yelled in her ears for that. Every stupid fight, divorce, break up, date, and bad decision the characters have made since Derek, Mark, Lexie, and George died? They’ve definitely screamed their ears off at them. We now know that George tries to shake the grief out of his mother and Mark and Lexie make a habit of yelling in the ears of their loved ones making horrible decisions. I love it!

There’s something so hilarious and reassuring about the dead who have left us yelling and shaking us from beyond the grave and us taking that as a sign or our own idea and moving forward and making better decisions. I loved seeing Meredith talk about Bailey’s birthday party with Lexie and how what he really wanted for his birthday was for all of them to laugh. That establishes that Bailey’s birthday is in March or April. Which again makes that gelato DeLuca comment from Episode 8 literally impossible because he couldn’t have brought Bailey gelato for his actual or half birthday when he and Meredith only dated for a few months and he only met her kids officially a few weeks before they broke up.

Hayes’ storyline with his sister-in-law Irene was everything! We learned more about her, got to see what her relationship with Hayes is like, and learned more about how his boys are handling everything. He got his own storyline and development. I love it! His tour of the hospital on the way to the OR was hilarious! “And that is a supply closet!” LOL! I loved how supportive Irene was of him moving on. She really wanted to meet Meredith this great General Surgeon he keeps talking about all the time to his boys to the point that she knows all about her and knows that Hayes is definitely smitten. I loved her line when Hayes told her she couldn’t meet Meredith because she was on a ventilator and she looked at him and said, “Again?”

The fact that she knows he likes her because of the way he smiles every time he talks about her to the point that the boys have picked up on it and told her? My heart! Irene really came through for us in this episode! Bless her! Hayes was so distraught this episode. I like that they really showed his process and how upset he was that Meredith was still on a vent and that Irene was sick. His pain when he talked to Jo about how he couldn’t bear to tell his boys that they had lost another person that they love whose been taking care of them was heart wrenching.

Irene is a total badass. The information we’ve gotten about her shows what a fiercely loyal and supportive person she is. Cormac and Abigail meet at the Surgical Innovation Conference in LA when Abigail is a starving artist and Cormac is early on in his medical career. His conversations with Meredith show that he’s unfamiliar with American medical terms and colloquialisms and he talks about growing up in Ireland and how every day is Pro Bono Surgery Day there. We know that after his wife died he took his boys and moved to Zurich, Switzerland where he worked for two years before moving to the U.S.A. to take the job in Seattle.

We also know that Irene was Abigail’s POA when she was sick and that prior to the pandemic she was back living in LA. All of which implies that sometime after Abigail and Cormac met she decided to move to Ireland to be with him and they got married and she gave birth to Liam and Austin while Hayes was a practising surgeon in Ireland. But that when Abigail got sick Irene gave up her life in LA to move to Ireland for several years to be her sister’s POA and support her nephews and brother-in-law.

Abigail ultimately died and following that Cormac took Liam and Austin and moved to Zurich at which point Irene moved back to LA where she was living during Season 16 when they went to visit her during the Conference Episode. When the COVID-19 Pandemic hit the U.S. Irene then insisted on moving to Seattle to care for Liam and Austin while Cormac worked at Grey Sloan. Cormac and Irene drive each other crazy and agree on nothing and her own sister called her crazy before she died and yet she picked up and moved her whole life across the Atlantic and then to a different state for them. That’s love. That’s badass. You keep doing you Irene!

The scenes with Jo and Catherine in the OR cracked me up! "Child, who throws away a kidney? Lord." Haha! I loved Jo’s reaction when Catherine brought up switching careers. At first, I was confused as to why Jo lied, but then my friend Amy who I watch with pointed out that maybe Jo doesn’t want her boss to know she’s considering switching specialties just yet. I’d honestly like to see Jo switch from General to Urology. As Catherine says there are few women in the field and there are a lot of general surgeons on this show.

Jo switching from one surgical specialty to another to find joy and challenge herself makes sense to me. Her switching from general surgery to OBGYN does not. I thought she was going to adopt that baby Luna but then she told Jackson and Link that she doesn’t want to have children now or maybe ever and their scene this episode was pretty short. I thought when she was considering switching to OBGYN that either Carina or Hayes would train her.

But they’ve moved Carina over to Station 19 so completely that her brother died on Grey’s Anatomy and we only saw her briefly at the end of Episode 8 when she attended her brother’s memorial. Prior to this episode I would have described Jo and Hayes as friends, but they were pretty adversarial this episode and at this point they seem to be two people that like each other well enough and who respect each other’s surgical skills and that’s it. So, based on this week’s episode Hayes definitely isn’t going to step up and train Jo in his specialty. They’re not close enough and he’s got enough on the go.

I loved the scene where Jo and Jackson were in bed together and Jo started talking about how scary his Mom was and he was like why are you talking about my Mom when we’re naked together? It reminded me of how April thought his Mom was the coolest and walked on water and would talk about it when they were together. Made me laugh! I love seeing Maggie innovate and find a way to help those poor patients and double the hospital’s ventilator capacity!

Seeing Richard dance it out at the news and then again when him and Owen successfully took Meredith off the vent and she began breathing on her own was glorious! Such joy! Winston’s proposal and Maggie’s acceptance of it surprised me! I like them together and want them to get their happy ending, but this feels a bit sudden likely brought on by all the stress they are experiencing.

I mean Amelia and Link have a child together and are also co-parenting Leo and Allison with Teddy and Owen and are raising a boatload of children during the pandemic and they’re not married or engaged.  It was nice that Teddy and Owen finally stopped fighting after half a season of nonsense! That was nice. I loved how Amelia stepped up and supported Teddy and told her what she needed to hear. Yeah therapy sucks sometimes. It can be uncomfortable. So are mammograms.

We still get them! You have to put in the work to get better otherwise it doesn’t happen. I like that they are showing us the process of Teddy getting better while making sure that the kids are looked after. Teddy is doing a bit better, but she’s still not well enough to be looking after Leo and Allison by herself without supervision and since Amelia is at home anyways she might as well help.

Plus, it’s probably good for Leo and Allison to play with Zola, Bailey, and Ellis. They’ve only seen Owen and his Mom for two months. I liked the moment where Teddy said that Ellis looked like Amelia and that they really are sisters. She’s Meredith’s daughter, but she’s clearly picked up some of Amelia’s mannerisms because Amelia’s helping to raise her. Which does happen. Also, she’s Derek’s daughter too and since Amelia and Derek are siblings and share a resemblance it makes sense that she might also share traits with Ellis. I like that we are learning more about Bailey and Ellis this season.

Seeing the joy on everyone’s faces, including Zola’s, when Owen came in and told everyone that they took Meredith off the vent and that she was breathing on her was palpable. Such a great moment! I loved the moment where Tom was holding a rosary praying for Meredith and Owen finally stopped being a jerk for five seconds to comfort him and tell him about his own experience with survivor’s guilt after coming back from Iraq after his entire platoon was killed.

I’d like to see them explore Tom’s relationship with faith more. Something else I loved? The texts from Cristina! Loved it! Owen was like I can read her charts myself and Cristina was like I don’t care take a picture! I love that we’ve seen Cristina through text messages the last two seasons. I really miss her. Also is anyone updating Alex? I feel like they are, but I would love to see them mention or show it on screen. Same with Callie and Arizona. I felt like Hayes was the obvious choice for keeping Cristina up to date but seeing as he has a lot going on this episode my guess is that she texted him and he didn’t respond because he was too busy worrying about Irene so she texted Owen and asked for an update.

Did anyone else feel like it was hypocritical for Owen to be so mad at Teddy for still being in love with Allison and not telling him about their relationship when he’s apparently been texting Cristina about Meredith’s condition and talking to Amelia regularly this whole time? He clearly still has feelings for both of them and they are still very much alive and in communication with him and he’s mad that Teddy didn’t tell him about a dead lover? Jerk.

I loved seeing Levi step up and step into his own as a doctor. He’s no longer the bumbling fool of seasons past. He’s got his crap together and he’s going to do what needs to be done to keep his patient alive and healthy. His song about hump day cracked me up! Link was so happy to be operating this episode LOL! His comment about the poop diaper explosion was something else. Seeing Richard’s anger and frustration and seeing him explain how he was feeling to Link felt raw and really expressed how we’re all feeling like now. The fact that being low on ventilators is a real problem that hospitals have been facing ever since the pandemic started is enraging! I hate that this is real.

I hate that real hospitals with real patients have to make these kinds of calls. Health care providers are real superheroes. I could never make a decision like that. How do you decide who lives and who dies? How do you decide who needs a ventilator most and live with the consequences for you and the patient? I couldn’t do it. I love that Meredith appears to be waking up in next week’s promo. My bet is that she’s going to reunite with Derek one last time and then wake up. I’m interested to see Richard fill her in on what’s being going on and to see Amelia and Link talk about the possibility of getting married at some point. Also, can we take a moment to appreciate shirtless Link? Hot!

Until next time!

[theheartsmistakes]

The Last Night Part XVII

A/N at the end

Part XVII

“Into town,” said Lucie, her voice pitching on the last word, in answer to her mother’s question. “We thought it might refresh Cordelia’s memories if we went to the location of the attack.”

Cordelia balked at the idea of returning to the place where she and Alastair almost died. She must have been making some kind of expression because Lucie deemed it necessary to deliver a kick to her ankle. She hissed but forced a smile.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked Sona. “You’ve only just woken up. Perhaps you should rest a bit longer. Your injuries are not yet fully healed and you look in pain, darling.”

That’s because she was, but not for the reason her mother thought. Her ankle throbbed where Lucie had kicked it.

“I’ve rested for nearly a week,” said Cordelia. “I think some fresh air and a bit of walking will be beneficial. Besides, James and Matthew will be joining us.”

Both boys jolted at the mention of their names as if they hadn’t entirely been paying attention to the conversation unfolding in front of them.

“Of course,” said James with a nod. “The streets were calm during our patrol so there shouldn’t be much to worry about, Mrs. Carstairs.”

Sona’s eyes shifting between James and Cordelia and Cordelia could swear she saw a glimmer of hope in her mother’s eyes at the two of them standing together in the center of the room. “Well, that should be fine, but not for too long.”

“We’ll be home in time for supper,” said Lucie.

“I’ll alert Charles that we’ve permitted the four of you go out for a while,” said Tessa, turning back towards the dining room door. “If it’s in an attempt to retrieve Cordelia’s memories, he shouldn’t throw too much of a fit about it. But I feel inclined to say, please do not give him any reason to see through with his threats.”

“Don’t worry,” said Matthew who threw an arm around James’s shoulders. “We’ll make sure these girls stay on their best behavior.”

Tessa turned to as if she was going to say something sharp to the two boys, but Will gently urged her through the dining room door before she could.

Alastair escorted his mother to her room so that she could have a rest. He’d abandoned the pinstripe pajamas for a pair of dark tweed trousers and a simple white buttoned shirt that he left untucked. His feet were bare, with the one still wrapped in a thick cloth bandage, as he offered one arm to his mother and the other rested on his wooden crutch that lightly tapped the ground as he walked. Cordelia felt a sharp twinge of pain in her chest for leaving him alone to help look after their mother when he needed assistance himself, but she knew he wouldn’t accept such assistance. The broad slope of his shoulders caved slightly as if the weight of the world rested upon them. It occurred to her in that moment when he was walking their mother to her room that Alastair didn’t bear the weight of one single world upon his shoulders, but the weight of many. Her own included.

The thought made her ache.

“Cordelia?” A hand gripped her elbow, drawing her back to the sitting room, and she turned to find James looking down at her. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” she sniffed and blinked the tears away from her eyes. “Just a bit of pain in my ribs is all.”

“Do you need Jem?” he asked and his hand slid down her elbow to grip her hand. “Or an iratze?”

“No,” she squeezed his hand to stop him from pulling her along. “No, it’s alright. It’s nothing. We should prepare to leave since we’re going to the place of my attack apparently.”

Lucie grimaced. “I’m sorry. I panicked and it was the first thing that came to mind. We don’t have to go there, Cordelia. Perhaps you and I can go for a nice stroll through the park, maybe do a bit of window shopping.” Lucie glared down at James’s hand still holding Cordelia’s and then her gaze slithered up to her brother’s.

“I have an idea,” said Matthew. “Cordelia, have you ever driven in an automobile?”

“No!” Both James and Lucie shouted at Matthew who barely batted an eye at the other two while he waited for Cordelia’s response.

She grinned. “No, I can’t say that I have. They seem dreadful.”

“Quite the opposite,” said Matthew. “The epitome of absolute freedom and mobility. I think a spot of fresh air will do all of us some good. Come along, Luce, you can help me bring Algernon around.”

“Algernon?” Cordelia asked.

“Yes, he’s named his vehicle after an Oscar Wilde character,” said James.

“His vehicle?” Cordelia balked.

James nodded. “We’ve quite a bit to catch you up on, Daisy.”

“I’d say so,” she sighed and watched as Matthew dragged a disparaged Lucie along with him out the front door.

“I would like to give you something,” said James, his fingers flexed against hers. “If you’ll come with me for a moment.”

Cordelia turned so that they were facing one another. “What is it?”

“Come along, Daisy” said James nodding his head towards the hallway leading farther into the institute. “We won’t be long.”

She gathered what semblance of courage she had left in her and let him guide her down the hall. The crystal orbs that hovered above them in a line down the length of the hallway flickered and waned to life upon their approach. Witchlight, she noted, by the warm glow it emitted like magic in their presence, lighting the darkness and displaying the vibrant red wallpaper with gold hand painted brush strokes of two swords crossed over each other in a pattern. Each sword, Cordelia noticed, had a different hilt. No two were the same. Some of the weapons were French with the delicate, ostentatious metal hilt. Some were Scottish with the curved blade instead of straight. She expected nothing else of Will Herondale’s house but to have weapons painted on the walls.  

“Just through here,” said James as they came to a stop in front of an old door that appeared to be made of oak or some other type of ancient wood. Three swords, two crossed like those painted on the walls and one down the center hung in the middle of the door. Upon closer inspection, Cordelia recognized them to be the same chosen weapons of Jonathon Shadowhunter and his parabatai David, the sword going down the center belonged to Jonathon’s sister Abigail.

“Exact replicas,” said James as he shouldered open the heavy door. “Useless in battle since they’ve been welded to this door since the birth of the Institute, much to my father’s great chagrin, but a great conversation starter.” He gave the center sword a tug for emphasis.

The temperature dropped significantly on the other side of the door. Gooseflesh prickled along Cordelia’s skin as she stepped into the dark stairway going down towards the basement of the Institute. She knew now where he was taking her. The weapons room. She’d been there before with Lucie, but she couldn’t imagine why he was taking her there now.

A witchlight burned in James’s hand, illuminating the curves and plains of his face, as they started their descent down the stone steps. There wasn’t far to go, the stairwell curved twice and then spit them out in the stone walled room. Covering the walls from floor to ceiling was every type of weapon made under heaven. Cordelia felt a familiar tingle run up her spine.

“Cortana,” she whispered as James crossed the room to a wooden chest and retrieved the blade from inside, still secure in Cordelia’s gilded scabbard.

“I found it where you fell,” said James, walking back over to where she stood in the center of the room. “I’ve been keeping it safe for you.”

Once in her hands, Cordelia grabbed the hilt and drew the blade out, relishing in the song it sang as it was freed like the first draw of a violin bow across the strings. She swung it once, the hilt rolled across her hand deftly and back into her palm. She drew her finger along the edge, thin as glass, but stronger than stone.

“Beautiful,” breathed James.

“I always thought so,” said Cordelia and sheathed her beloved weapon.

When she looked up, her breath hitched. James stood only a few inches away from her, his eyes were not on the blade, but on her. She knew the expression on his face, she’d seen it before, had dreams about him looking at her the way he was now. It was the same expression he wore after he kissed her in The Whispering Room. When she’d allowed herself—really allowed herself to be vulnerable enough to believe that his affections went farther than just friendship towards her.

And when she found his affections held firm for someone else, it nearly broke her.

It was time to set aside the fatuous ideations she’d held for James since childhood and start accepting that they would never be more than the dearest of friends.

She slid the strap of her scabbard over her neck so that it lay across her shoulder. “Lucie and Matthew are surely waiting for us by now. We should go.” She turned to leave, but James reached for her hand pulling her gently back towards him.

“Wait,” he said. “Cordelia there is something I must ask you while I still have the courage to do so.”

Cordelia felt a burning, sick feeling in her stomach, but she didn’t pull away.

“That night, when you left London, you told me that you loved me,” he said, his eyes wide searching hers. “I need to know—”

“There you are,” said Lucie from the entrance to the weapons room. “How dare you leave me alone with Matthew and his precious metal trap. Come along before someone sees the mobile sitting on our lawn and reports us to the Clave.”

Cordelia turned from Lucie back to James. She could feel the heat in the tips of her ears. She suspected that they would need to have this conversation, but she hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Her heart pounded in her chest as if screaming her answer.

“We’ll be right there, Lucie,” said James, his eyes still firmly held Cordelia. “A minute longer.”

Lucie, having realized she interrupted something rather personal, did not argue but rather turned on her heels and walked back up the stone steps. They listened to the echoes of her shoes against the stone until the noise disappeared, but Cordelia still suspected that Lucie was not far away and had an ear towards the conversation.

“You want to know if it’s still true?” asked Cordelia. “Of course it is, I’ll always care about you, but that does not negate everything that’s happened. It was selfish of me to agree to your proposal when you so clearly loved someone else. You only did it as a favor to my family and while I am extremely grateful for that, please don’t feel that because I am back for the foreseeable future that you are obligated to uphold that promise any longer.” She exhaled and dared to look at James again. His expression remained impassive giving her the courage to place a hand on his shoulder. “You should be allowed to pursue the one that you love; not feel indebted because I soiled my name. We both know it hasn’t been fully intact in some time. I would have done it for any of you.“

James reached up and covered the hand that was resting on his shoulder with his own and she saw that where the silver bracelet usually hung from his wrist was now gone. She looked to his other wrist, but found that it was bare too.

“Come along, Daisy,” said James. “There is still quite a bit we need to catch you up on.”

(Author’s Notes: This chapter gave me so much trouble, I’m not really sure why. Forgive me, I don’t feel like it’s one of my best, but I wanted to have something for you all to read tonight. With helping my sister, starting work again, I’m going to start posting bi-weekly, every other Sunday, so that I have a bit more time to work on each part. I hope you guys enjoy something in this messy, inconsistent chapter. I promise that the next one will be significantly better and with more Jordelia. Next post coming Sun, Oct 4)

[beophota]

State Morrigan: Mallory’s Loss Part 1.

[I wanted to draw scenes with this but I’m so tired ;v; I don’t know when I’ll finish the next part but I’ll do my best to make it soon!]

Keep running.

Keep going.

The thoughts were like lightning in her mind, her lungs burned with the need for rest, but Bo pushed on, the terror and adrenaline coursing in her veins like white fire.

Every wave of destruction that tore through brick and wood, sending splinters and shards of glass ahead of her pushed her forward.

Don’t let her catch you, find something, anything that may help you.

Kingmaster’s voice, filled with rage, echoed through the destroyed halls of her school behind. It bounced of the walls, and Bo couldn’t help but compare it to the call of death as she burst through a set of double doors.

The mess hall.

Bo kept running, but her blood turned to ice as familiar bright green scales entered her peripheral. Mallory.

“Mallory!” Bo screamed, her voice like sandpaper, broken and torn. “RUN!”

Her classmate looked up, red eyes bright and filled with shock. Her hands were stained in red up to her elbows, but Bo couldn’t stand to think of who it came from.

Mallory took off and met Bo in the middle, intercepting her exhausted form as that one moment of stillness offered her legs reprieve.

“Bo? Bo talk to me!” Mallory held her close, trying not to scratch her as she took Bo’s face in her hands.

She was absolutely exhausted, and the relief of Mallory’s arms around her was enough to nearly make her pass out. “We’ve got to go, now-!”

But then, an ear-piercing crack broke the stuttering silence inside the mess hall.

One, two, then three clean waves of trilling red energy cleaved through the doors, shattering them.

Pieces of the door and drywall flew past the two, sending chairs flying and upending tables. Bo screamed, suddenly pushing against Mallory, begging with a hoarse throat; “Run! RUN MALLORY PLEASE!”

But Mallory wasn’t listening.

Mallory’s eyes were hyper-focused on the blackened silhouette moving through the dust and debris towards them.

Pitch black eyes, two red pinpricks filled with savage anger. Her arms, tense and with fists clenched tight at her sides, were covered in vivid red cracks that disappeared under torn short sleeves.

Kingmaster stood silent, staring the draconic girl down. Or more so, the trembling girl in her arms.

Mallory’s eyes flashed down at Bo, then back to Kingmaster. It clicked then, like the flash of a radio switching stations- who this monster was after.

Bubbling up from her stomach, then to her lungs, Mallory felt anger roar into a bright fury that curled and thundered up her throat.

Bo kept begging, pleading for her to run, to escape, but she knew Mallory would not abide. Against her shoulder and side, she could fire the fire rising up through Mallory’s torso.

“Look,” Kingmaster’s voice severed the tense silence. “I don’t want anyone,” one gloved finger aimed at Bo, black leather worn and corroded. “But her. Hand her over, and you don’t have to die.”

Smoke escaped Mallory’s lips in billows as she grinned. Not kind, not a grin of glee.

The grin on her face told Bo all she needed to know.

“Where are my siblings, huh? Where are they,” Mallory pushed Bo behind her, but the smaller girl held on, desperate to keep her from harm. “And why are you so adamant on killing a kid?!”

Kingmaster stared at her for a moment, crossing her arms. In any other setting, Bo would have looked at her and thought of how that was so very like her.

It hurt her head trying to think of why Abigail King wanted her dead, but nonetheless it felt like being submerged in a vast, bottomless ocean.

The woman clucked almost mockingly, sucking at her teeth.

Then, with a sharp cock of her head, she fixed Mallory with a steely glare. “That’s none of your fuckin’ business. And I don’t know, and I don’t care,” a wild grin split her across her face, teeth bared. “Where your siblings are.”

As the two kept each other's fierce gaze, Bo watched as Mallory began stalking slowly towards Kingmaster. The tall woman began to mimic, heavy footfalls ringing loud in Bo’s ears.

With each step, Mallory was drawing closer and closer to the danger Bo had spent the last twenty minutes trying to escape.

“Mallory!” Bo yelled, her throat giving in at the last syllable. She sounded pathetic, and felt even more so. Wide, sun dotted blue eyes watch through hot tears as her classmate put herself between her and the Villain.

She could see them talking, but her ears began to ring at the rising panic that clambered up her spine. 

The dust was thick, lit with the thick sheets of setting sun pouring through shattered windows. It tasted like sand, the air was hot and smoke began to build within the hall.

Her heartbeat vibrated in her eardrums, as she watched Mallory’s flames erupt into a concentrated spiral towards Kingsmaster.

A hateful snarl twisted her face and she leapt to the left, raising her elbow past her jaw, and in the next second her body twisted. 

Bo had to brace herself against the after-shocks of Kingmaster’s quirk destroying nearly the entire left-side of the hall.

The action cushioned Kingmaster’s harsh shoulder-roll back onto her feet, narrowly avoiding a sweltering wave of dragon-fire. 

Mallory was quick, wings flaring and took off upwards.

Bo cursed. She may have a vantage point from up there, but so did Kingmaster. There was nothing in the air to absorb the brunt of Kingmaster’s destructive waves.

Two seconds passed and suddenly time slowed, it seemed, as Kingmaster completely disregarded Mallory’s new position and in a flash of black and crackling red, bolted towards Bo.

Bo screamed, knees nearly buckling as her moonside flared on instinct. Her right arm flying upwards as lunar energy coursed through her and up into a swirling barrier. “No!”

She felt her insides burn at the strain, felt the lunar energy tear into her blood.

Kingmaster had forgotten about her other opponent though, so blind to her goal, too eager to end Bo where she stood.

Mallory came spinning towards them, wings tucked in around her. At the last second, they shot outwards, parachuting Mallory into a dead stop. With this force, she made a concussive impact at the heels into Kingmaster’s side. 

A scream of exertion was ripped from Kingmaster’s lungs as she was sent skidding into chairs and tables.

The sounds of scraping metal and crashing, the walls around them threatening to fall with each swipe of the Villian’s hand, Bo’s temples throbbed.

Her right hand fell aching at her side. She had one, maybe two more shots at using her moonside before she couldn’t anymore. If she used it past her limit, she might boil herself from the inside out.

Her left hand twitched in tandem to the pulse thundering in every nerve in Bo’s body. Kingmaster wasted no time hauling back to her feet.

A cool rush of air ruffled through Bo’s hair as Mallory took off once more.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Mallory refused to allow Kingmaster another chance. She threw a right hook strong enough the fold a man twice her weight, but Kingmaster ducked quickly, merely managing to escape the blow. Mallory hissed, smoke pouring from heated lungs. Kingmaster smirked, throwing one hand outwards.

Mallory’s eyes followed her hand and that was all she needed, angry red cracks rippling up her arm as she reeled back with her other fist.

Bo knew she had screamed. She could feel it, the way it hollowed out her lungs and shredded the already sore flesh of her throat.

But all she heard was ringing, like the flat-line of a heart-monitor.

Move…

MOVE!!

Bo’s left arm recurred into a light pink as the solar current fed throughout the limb. It felt like hours but in the next second everything detonated into chaos.

Bo let loose a flurry of solar bullets. Three out of five hit their mark, allowing Mallory time to avoid the lethal blow. Mallory beat her wings, hovering as she carried out three punches to Kingmaster’s head in rapid succession.

This should have been enough to put her out, even enough to kill her. But Mallory was slowly exhausting, and her lungs screamed for oxygen. Smoke twisted uncomfortably in her lungs and Mallory leapt backwards. Landing, her knee came down roughly to steady herself.

She heaved a breath, dark smoke curling into the air.

Mallory glanced at Bo, sweat soaking the strands of her black hair to her cheeks. Kingmaster lay on the ground, still. But the two couldn’t relax until they knew the rest of their classmates were safe.

Bo ran to Mallory, hands trembling with fatigue. Her scaly skin was hot to the touch, and Bo could hear her holding back hacks of smoke.

“Mallory, are you okay?” she whispered, afraid that if she even spoke too loud, Kingmaster would be back on her feet.

Mallory sniffed, panting as she wiped her nose. Glancing at the crumpled body of the Villian, she nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I need to find Thomas and Mia-Jo, would you help me?” 

Bo suddenly felt her heart skip a couple beats as she remembered Jomei, lying on the floor amongst rubble and overturned furniture. “J-Jomei’s passed out in a hall over that way,” she pointed. “By the gym!”

Mallory’s brow creased and she nodded again. As she stood, Bo became keenly aware of how her torso bent slightly to the side.

Was she injured? Had she been too late?

“If Thomas and Mia-jo are hiding, the gym is where they’d go. We’ll get Jomei on the way, okay?” Mallory began to walk towards the ruined double doors.

That was another mistake, taking their eyes off the enemy.

As Bo nodded, and turned to move forward, there was the sound of trilling energy. Dread soaked Bo to the bone as she turned just in time to see Mallory sent flying to her right, crashing into multiple chairs and tables.

“Mallory!”

“You.”

Bo’s breath stalled in her lungs as coarse leather closed tightly around her throat. Instinctively, her hands shot up to grasp at her arm, but Kingmaster’s livid glare and warning sneer kept Bo from using her sunside to burn her off.

“You move, she dies,” Kingmaster pointed harshly at Mallory, who laid unconscious on the floor. Blood could be seen clearly making a trail down Mallory’s snout, and fresh tears began to bubble over Bo’s eyelids. If Kingmaster so desired, she could kill both of them right there.

“W-Why?” Bo’s voice came out as a strangled squeak, her toes leaving the ground and Kingmaster rose her higher.

She observed her with what appeared as unremorseful pity. “Why?” Kingmaster began to chuckle, that rolled into full blown, sarcastic laughter. It boomed inside that hall, reverberating inside Bo’s pounding skull. 

“Why?! Are you seriously,” she squeezed tighter. “That fucking dumb? What, did your murderer of a father scoop your brains out with that silver spoon?” she hissed, suddenly throwing Bo to the ground, seemingly unable to stand touching her anymore.

Bo fought the urge to vomit, cradling her neck with one hand as the other posted to keep her sitting up. The hall filled with coughing and heavy pants as her body tried desperately to recover from the assault.

“SHUT. UP.”

Bo jerked and yelped as the thick sole of Kingmaster’s boot made solid contact with her stomach. 

Kingmaster let out a wry giggle, it sounded strained. Like this was offering some sick catharsis.

“Y’know, with how much dad talked about how cool you were, and how powerful you were going to be with all his inventions,” another giggle. “I really thought you were gonna put up more of a fight.”

She sighed, head bent, glancing at Mallory. “Then again I did tell I was gonna kill that one if you did soo,” she shrugged, taking three large steps towards Bo. “Anyways, can’t dilly or dally and whatever the shit, time to die kid.”

The younger girl scrambled backwards in fear as Kingmaster rose her hand, face hardening into something akin to cold stone.

“Wait- stop! Please I don’t understand!” Bo cried out, hands shielding herself as tears soaked her cheeks. Kingmaster clicked her tongue and gave her a mock sympathetic shake of her head. “I’ll make sure he knows that after you’re dead.”

She swung, Bo screamed and what sounded like thunder directly above them joined in a cacophony of blind noise.

Bo sat trembling violently, staring wide-eyed through her parted fingers as a large, horned figure threw Kingmaster off themselves now twenty feet away.

As the stood up straight, Bo recognized the broad shoulders and plaited green arrows up the sides of his armor.

Reptosaur, it was Pro Hero Reptosaur, an angry grimace on his face. When his eyes caught sight of Mallory stirring on the ground, it twisted into an expression Bo could only assume was pure fatherly rage.

“Surrender now, Abigail King,” his baritone voice filled the hall sonorously, and Bo nearly passed out with relief.

Kingmaster’s black eyes flash and her pupils shrunk in rage. “Don’t fucking call me that! No one will call me that ever again.”

[my-random-ocs]

Rise Up Chapter 1: Percy Blows Up Another Building

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x OC (eventual)

Warnings: Mentions of Percy accidentally blowing up a school, betrayal, angst

<<< Previous || Masterlist || Next >>>

"You know this isn't as bad as you think," I told Annabeth, walking down the street.

"Of course it is!" Annabeth insisted. "It's awful!"

"You're being dramatic. Having feelings for Percy... it's great." Annabeth opened her mouth to protest, but I interrupted. "Look, he's a great guy. And it's obvious he's been in love with you since you nursed him back to health and announced he drooled in his sleep. What's so bad about having feelings for him?"

Annabeth looked down at the ground, kicking a pebble along with her feet. "I just- I feel vulnerable."

"Perfectly natural when you have a crush," I assured her.

She sent me a look. "Says the girl who's never had a crush."

"There was this one boy," I said, casting my eyes downward. I shake my head. "I was also ten and he was one of, like, two friends." The boy I was talking about was one I haven't talked about at camp often- even to Annabeth, though she was my best friend. Doing well in school was fairly uncommon when you're a demigod, what with a large percentage having learning disabilities, and skipping a grade was almost unheard of. I was an exception. I skipped the fourth grade, despite having ADHD and dyslexia. It also didn’t help that I’m on the autism spectrum, and that I had gotten kicked out of two elementary schools before Beacon Hills Elementary. I didn't have very many friends before I got to Camp Half-Blood, but there was this boy who was my best friend, and he always defended me.

“Zia!” Annabeth called, waving a hand in front of my face, breaking me from my thoughts. “Help, please!”

“What do you need help with?” I asked, smiling. “Gods, you’re dramatic! You’re not going to die for having feelings- what’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is- I just- what if he doesn’t-” Annabeth stammered.

“The last words out of your mouth better not be ‘what if he doesn’t like me?’ because I will be forced to kick your butt,” I said. “Annabeth, the guy is crazy about you- or was last winter not enough proof of that?” Last winter, Annabeth had gotten kidnapped by a monster and taken to Mount Tamalpais. Percy had just about gone crazy with worry. Annabeth looked at her feet. I nudged her shoulder with mine. “Look, you guys are…” I wave my hand around, looking for the right words. “Meant to be.”

Annabeth snorted. “Oh, yeah, you’re definitely Aphrodite’s daughter.”

“Shut up,” I grinned.

More serious now, Annabeth said, “This is the first time I’ve told anyone. It just- it makes it real.”

I smile softly at her. “Look, whatever happens… you’re going to be okay. Just tell him how you feel. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Annabeth widened her eyes. “He could hear me?”

I laughed, linking my arm through hers and walking faster down the sidewalk toward Percy’s school.

My friend Percy Jackson was recently accepted into Goode High School, the school his mom’s boyfriend teaches English at. I attended Abigail Adams Academy, a K-12 private school near my apartment that I managed to get a scholarship to. I tried to talk him up to the principal there, but they heard Percy’s reputation of getting expelled, and didn’t want to deal with that. Right now, he is at orientation. Why a school held freshman orientation in June, who knows, but he was getting let out in a few minutes. After that, he and Annabeth were going to go to a movie, and that would be my cue to head to Percy’s apartment to visit his mom, Sally. I was meeting my sister and niece there.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed and I pulled it out of the back pocket of my jeans to see a text from my friend Kira. While I was still in the city, I had decided not to wear my camp gear, opting for plain jeans, a long-sleeve gray t-shirt, black converse high tops, and my favorite dark pink hijab. In early June, it was too warm for a jacket.

Hey the text read. Do you want to hang out tonight? Just rented Star Wars

I smiled. Love to. Text you later?

See you

I turn my phone off and put it back in my bag.

“Who was that?” Annabeth asked.

“My friend Kira,” I answered. “We go to school together.”

Just as Annabeth and I arrived at Goode High School, I spotted Percy sprinting down the hill. “Hey, you’re out early!” Annabeth said, clearly excited. She grabbed his shoulders, steadying him. “Watch where you’re going, Seaweed Brain.”

Percy’s appearance was my cue to leave and head to Sally’s apartment. I was about to say goodbye to both of them when a redheaded girl came out. “Percy! Wait up!” She called.

I glanced behind Percy and gasped at the sight of the smoking school in the distance, fire alarms ringing out. “What did you do?” I demanded, my eyes still on the scene.

“And who is this?” Annabeth frowned.

“Rachel Elizabeth Dare,” I realized, recognizing her from last winter.

“Yeah,” she said. “Sorry, I didn’t get your name last year.”

Percy was flustered. “Oh, Rachel- Annabeth and Zia. Guys- Rachel. Um, she’s a friend. I guess.”

“Hi,” Rachel greeted us quickly, then turned back to Percy. “You are in so much trouble. And you still owe me an explanation.

Sirens wailed, getting louder as they made their way up the street.

“Percy,” Annabeth said coldly. “We should go.”

“I want to know more about half-bloods,” Rachel said as if she didn’t hear. I looked at Percy in surprise. He told a mortal about demigods? “And monsters. And then stuff about the gods.” She suddenly grabbed Percy’s arm, took out a marker, and wrote a phone number on his hand. “You’re going to call me and explain, okay? You owe me that. Now get going.”

Percy shook his head. “But-”

“I’ll make up some story,” Rachel insisted. “I’ll tell them it wasn’t your fault. Just go!”

Before anyone could respond, she ran back toward the school, leaving Annabeth, Percy, and I standing on the street.

Annabeth stared at Percy for a moment, then turned and took off down the street without a word.

I offered Percy an encouraging smile, then followed Annabeth.

“Hey!” Percy called, jogging after us. “There were these two empousai-”

My heart stopped. “Empousai?” I demanded. I immediately reached for my camp necklace, and to a locket charm that hung there. In the locket was a photo of me, Nisha, and our father before the attack.

Percy nodded reluctantly, knowing that my father was killed by an empousa. “They were cheerleaders, see, and they said camp was going to burn, and-”

“You told a mortal girl about half-bloods?” Annabeth demanded.

I flinched at her tone, suddenly wishing I was anywhere but here.

“She can see through the Mist,” Percy explained.

“She can?” I asked.

Percy nodded. “Yeah. She saw the monsters before I did.”

“So you told her the truth,” Annabeth said.

“She recognized me from Hoover Dam, so-”

“You’ve met her before?”

“We met last winter, when we were looking for you,” I explained. “Percy almost killed her, and she could see the monsters then, too.”

Annabeth’s expression softened only slightly at the mention of her kidnapping. “She’s kind of cute,” she observed.

I looked at Percy, who was slightly confused. Oh, gods, Percy answer faster, please.

“I never thought about it,” he said.

Answer better.

Annabeth just kept walking.

“I’ll deal with the school,” Percy promised. “Honest, it’ll be fine.”

Annabeth wouldn’t look at either of us. “I guess our afternoon is off. We should get you out of here, now that the police will be searching for you.”

I nodded in agreement, fingering my camp necklace nervously as I watched flames billow up from Goode High School. What had Percy said? Camp would burn.

“You’re right,” Percy said. “We have to get to Camp Half-Blood. Now.”

____________

Annabeth was angry the entire cab ride to Long Island.

All Percy managed to get out of her was that she had had a monster-infested spring in San Francisco, and had come back to camp twice. She wouldn’t tell Percy why, but I knew- I had gone to camp for the same reason. We told Percy that neither of us had heard anything about Nico di Angelo, this demigod son of Hades we found last winter. After his sister died, he ran away from Camp Half-Blood, and, despite our best efforts, we have no idea where he is.

“Any word on Luke?” Percy asked.

Annabeth shook her head. The subject of Luke was a pretty touchy topic for Annabeth. He had practically raised her since she was seven, and she always admired him. About two years ago, he had betrayed the camp and joined Kronos, the king of the titans. Last winter, we fought him on Mount Tamalpais, and he somehow survived a fifty-foot drop off a cliff. Annabeth refused to admit it, but I knew that she still believed in him, and wanted him to come home. Me? The jerk betrayed his girlfriend, two young girls he helped raise, and an infant daughter, though he hadn’t known he had a daughter then, not to mention an entire camp who loved and admired him. Annabeth might not have lost faith in him, but I certainly have.

“Mount Tam is still overrun with monsters,” Annabeth said. “I didn’t dare go close, but I don’t think Luke is up there. I think I would know if he was.”

“What about Grover?” I asked, because I hadn’t really heard from him either.

“He’s at camp. We’ll see him today.”

“Did he have any luck with the search for Pan?” Grover had been searching for Pan since he heard the god’s voice last winter, but hasn’t heard anything since.

Annabeth fingered her bead necklace nervously. “You’ll see,” she said vaguely. Percy and I exchanged worried glances.

As we headed through Brooklyn, Percy called his mom with Annabeth’s phone, and I used my own to call my sister to tell her what was happening. Demigods normally try not to use cell phones, since using one is like broadcasting a light up sign saying “EAT ME”, but I knew my sister would be concerned. As understanding as she is about how suddenly I need to go to camp sometimes, she has the tendency to worry.

After that, the rest of the ride was silent. I decided to text Kira quickly, and tell her I wouldn’t make our Star Wars marathon tonight. I turned my phone off without waiting for a reply. Sometimes I wished I was normal. I loved camp, and my friends, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything, but sometimes, like today, I just wanted to hang out and watch a movie without the fear of monsters attacking or having to ditch them to go to camp because another friend accidentally blew up their school.

Eventually, Annabeth had the cab driver pull over on Farm Road 3.141, the base of Half-Blood Hill.

“Ain’t nothing here, miss,” the driver frowned. “You sure you want out?”

“Yes, please,” Annabeth said, and handed him a wad of cash. The driver decided not to argue.

We hiked up the hill, where the young dragon Peleus was sleeping, coiled around the pine tree. He lifted his head as we approached, and allowed me to scratch under his chin.

“Hi, Peleus,” I said. “Keeping everything safe, baby?”

Last time I saw Peleus, he was about six feet long, and now he was at least twice that, and as thick as the tree. Hanging on a branch was the Golden Fleece, protecting the camp’s magic borders from unwanted visitors, like monsters. Peleus was relaxed, so I knew nothing was wrong.

Camp Half-Blood itself looked peaceful, normal even- as normal as you can get at a camp with monster-infested woods, a climbing wall oozing lava, and real swords.

Still, something felt off. You could feel the tension in the air, as if the whole place was holding its breath, waiting for something bad to happen.

“I need to talk to Clarisse,” Annabeth said as we walked through the valley.

“What for?” Percy asked in surprise. Normally, Annabeth and Clarisse never even got along, much less worked together. But this was important.

“We’ve been working on something. Zia, too,” she answered. “See you later.” She turned to me. “Z, stay with Percy.” I nodded.

“Workin on what?” Percy asked, looking between Annabeth and I.

“I’ll tell Chiron you guys are here,” Annabeth said instead of answering the question. “He’ll want to talk to you before the hearing.”

“What hearing?”

She didn’t answer, jogging toward the Big House without looking back. Percy looked at me.

“We’ll explain later,” I said vaguely.

“Does… does it have something to do with Luke?” He asked tentatively.

I nodded, fingering my camp necklace. “It has everything to do with Luke.”

____________

Eventually, we made our way to the sword arena to train. We walked into the amphitheater, and Percy threw an arm across my stomach, pushing me back. My eyes focused on what he spotted, and my heart stopped. Sitting in the middle of the room, chewing on a combat dummy, was a hellhound.

It hadn’t noticed Percy or I yet, but it would soon.

Percy took out his sword, and charged. “Yaaaaah!” He yelled, bringing the blade down toward the hellhound when someone came out of nowhere and blocked Percy’s strike with a clang.

The hellhound perked up. “WOOF!”

I drew my own sword, ready to jump in, but Percy seemed to be handling it fine.

“Whoa, there!” The man yelled. “Truce!”

“WOOF!” The hellhound barked again.

“That’s a hellhound!” Percy shouted.

“She’s harmless,” the man said. “That’s Mrs. O’Leary.”

“Mrs. O’Leary?” I asked.

At the sound of her name, Mrs. O’Leary barked again, and I realized she wasn’t angry, but excited. She nudged the soggy practice dummy toward the stranger, and he happily took it, saying, “Good girl.” He launched it across the room toward the bleachers. “Get the Greek! Get the Greek!”

Mrs. O’Leary bounded after the dummy and started chewing on its helmet.

The stranger smiled dryly. He looked to be in his fifties, with short gray hair and beard. He was in good shape for a man that age. He wore black pants and a bronze breastplate over a camp t-shirt. I noticed a weird-looking purple blotch on his neck, like a tattoo, but he covered it with his armor before I could ask what it was.

“Mrs. O’Leary is my pet,” he explained. “I couldn’t let you stick a sword in her rump, now, could I? That might have scared her.”

“Who are you, exactly?”

“Quintus,” he said, sticking out his hand. I didn’t shake it, and he pulled it back toward his side. I didn’t love physical contact with people that I am not comfortable around (for example, holding hands and hugging my friends is fine, but Quintus was a stranger). Plus, I was Muslim, and there were certain restrictions for physical contact between a man and a woman, though sometimes I ignored them when it came to my friends.

“Zia Banerjee,” I answered, giving a small wave.

“Percy Jackson,” Percy said, eyeing the hellhound. “Sorry about- How did you, um-”

“Get a hellhound for a pet?” Quintus asked. “Long story, involving many close calls with death and a few giant chew toys. I’m the new sword instructor, by the way. Helping out Chiron while Mr. D. is away.”

“Mr. D. is away?” I asked. Why would Mr. D. leave camp?

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” Percy whispered, making me snort.

“Yes, well… busy times,” Quintus answered. “Even Dionysus must help out. He’s gone to visit some old friends. Make sure they’re on the right side. I probably shouldn’t say more than that.”

I slowly stepped toward Mrs. O’Leary while Quintus spoke. Despite the hellhounds I’ve encountered in my life, this one didn’t seem dangerous. Or, she was, but not to me, at least.

She stayed calm as I walked over, happily nudging my hand, clearly wanting pets. I giggled softly as I scratched the top of her head. She sighed. It almost looked like she was smiling.

“Good girl,” I smiled. “You’re such a good girl.”

“She’s very gentle,” Quintus said. “She won’t hurt you.”

“I can tell,” I laughed. “She’s so sweet.”

Suddenly, there was a loud thump. Six very large wooden crates were stacked off to the side, and something was rattling inside. Mrs. O’Leary heard and started toward them.

“Whoa, girl!” Quintus called quickly. “Those aren’t for you.” To distract her, he tossed a large bronze shield for the hellhound like it was a frisbee.

The crates shook. They said something, but I was having a hard time reading the words due to my dyslexia.

“What’s Triple G Ranch?” Percy asked.

“A little surprise,” Quintus said. “Training activity for tomorrow night. You’ll love it.”

Along the bottom, I managed to make out a few sentences- a warning label, in all caps: OPEN WITH CARE. TRIPLE G RANCH IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR PROPERTY DAMAGE, MAIMING, OR EXCRUCIATINGLY PAINFUL DEATHS.

“Sounds awesome,” I said.

Quintus threw the shield again, and Mrs. O’Leary bounded after it. “You young ones need more challenges. They didn’t have camps like this when I was a boy.”

“You- you’re a half-blood?” Percy asked in surprise. I was, too. I’ve never met an adult demigod before. I didn’t think my sister really counted.

Quintus just chuckled. “Some of us do survive into adulthood, you know. Not all of us are the subject of terrible prophecies.”

“You know about my prophecy?”

“I’ve heard a few things.”

I wanted to ask what few things, but then I heard a clip-clop, and I turned to see Chiron step into the arena. “Percy, Zia, there you are! I see you’ve met our new instructor.” Chiron sounded casual, but I could see the uneasiness in his eyes. “Quintus, do you mind if I borrow Zia and Percy?”

“Not at all, Master Chiron.”

“No need to call me ‘Master’,” Chiron said, though he sounded pleased. “Come, both of you. We have much to discuss.”

“Well, see you,” Percy said to Quintus.

“See you later,” I said. I turned to Mrs. O’Leary, smiling and using the same tone I used for my little niece. “And bye, baby girl.”

As we walked away, Percy said to me, “I love how you barely talked to the human at all, but talked to the hellhound like she was Amara.”

I shrugged. “She was adorable,” I countered simply.

He smiled, then turned to Chiron, his expression becoming more serious. “Quintus seems kind of-”

“Mysterious?” Chiron supplied. “Hard to read?”

Percy nodded. “Yeah.”

Chiron nodded. “A very qualified half-blood. Excellent swordsman. I just wish I understood…”

He trailed off, apparently thinking better of saying whatever he was about to say. “First things first, Percy. Annabeth told me you met some empousai.”

“Yeah,” Percy said. He told Chiron about the two empousai he fought at Goode, and how one of them, Kelli, had burst into flames.

“Mm,” Chiron said, considering everything Percy had told us. “The more powerful ones can do that. She did not die, Percy. She simply escaped. It is not good that the she-demons are stirring.”

“What were they doing there?” Percy asked. “Waiting for me?”

You know, High School Musical really gave you unrealistic expectations about high school. Troy and Gabriella weren’t exactly fighting monsters in between musical numbers.

“Possibly,” Chiron frowned.

“It’s amazing you survived,” I said, thinking again of my father. “They’re wonderful at deception. Any male hero would’ve been devoured.”

“I would’ve been,” Percy admitted. “Except for Rachel.”

Chiron nodded. “Ironic to be saved by a mortal, yet we owe her a debt. What the empousa said about an attack on camp- we must speak of this further. But for now, come, we should get to the woods. Grover will want you there.”

“Where?” I asked, gladly taking the change of subject.

“At his formal hearing,” Chiron said grimly. “The Council of Cloven Elders is meeting now to decide his fate.”

____________

Chiron said that we needed to hurry, so Percy and I rode on his back. I thought I knew the woods pretty well after living at camp for four years, but Chiron took us an unfamiliar way. We galloped through a tunnel of old willow trees, past a waterfall, and into a glade blanketed with wildflowers.

Three satyrs were seated on rose bush thrones in a circle, with Grover standing nervously in the middle, telling them a story. I figured that this must be the Council of Cloven Elders.

Standing off to the side was Clarisse and Annabeth, who had an arm around Juniper, a dryad, and Grover’s girlfriend. I had met her once when I came back to camp during the spring for the project me, Clarisse, and Annabeth were working on. I liked her a lot.

“It’s going terribly,” Juniper sniffled.

“No, no,” Annabeth reassured her. “He’ll be fine, Juniper.”

“Grover’s girlfriend,” I whispered in Percy’s ear, and he looked at me in surprise.

“Master Underwood!” One of the council members shouted, interrupting Grover. “Do you seriously expect us to believe this?”

“B-but Silenus,” Grover stammered. “It’s the truth!”

Silenus turned to his colleagues and muttered something. Chiron stepped up to them, and I remembered that he was an honorary member of the council.

“Master Underwood,” Silenus continued, “for six months- six months- we have been hearing these scandalous claims that you heard the wild god Pan speak.”

“But I did!” Grover insisted.

“Impudence!” Exclaimed another elder.

“Now, Maron,” Chiron said in an attempt to calm the group. “Patience.”

“Patience, indeed!” Maron said. “I’ve had it up to my horns with this nonsense. As if the wild god would speak to… to him.”

I raised my eyebrows, ready to go over there and knock the horns off their entitled heads, when Juniper bravely stepped forward, looking like she wanted to beat them up herself. Annabeth and Clarisse held her back.

“Wrong fight, girlie,” Clarisse muttered. “Wait.”

“For six months,” Silenus continued, “we have indulged you, Master Underwood. We let you travel. We allowed you to keep your searcher’s license. We waited for you to bring proof of your preposterous claim. And what have you found in six months of travel?”

“I just need more time,” Grover pleaded.

“Nothing!” The third elder chimed. “You have found nothing.”

“But, Leneus-”

Silenus raised his hand, silencing him. Chiron leaned in and muttered something to the group. The council didn’t look happy, and argued amongst themselves, but Chiron said something else, and Silenus sighed and nodded reluctantly.

“Master Underwood,” Silenus said, “we will give you one more chance.”

Grover brightened, and I smiled. “Thank you!” He said.

“One more week.”

The smile dropped off my face. “What?” Grover exclaimed. “But sir! That’s impossible!”

“One more week, Master Underwood. And then, if you cannot prove your claims, it will be time for you to pursue another career. Something suited to your dramatic talents. Puppet theater, perhaps. Or tap dancing.”

I narrowed my eyes in anger.

“But, sir, I- I can’t lose my searcher’s license,” Grover stammered. “My whole life-”

“This meeting of the council is adjourned,” Silenus interrupted, ignoring Grover. “And now let us enjoy our noonday meal!”

He clapped his hands, and a bunch of nymphs stepped out of the trees with platters of vegetables, fruits, tin cans, and other stuff satyrs liked. While the council ate, Grover walked toward us, dejected.

“Hey, guys,” he said sadly. “That went well, huh?”

“Want me to fight those guys for you?” I asked. “Because they seem to suck, and I will totally fight those guys for you.”

“Those old goats!” Juniper exclaimed. “Oh, Grover, they don’t know how hard you’ve tried!”

“There is another option,” Clarisse said darkly.

“No. No,” Juniper immediately protested, shaking her head. “Grover, I won’t let you.”

His face was ashen. ���I- I’ll have to think about it. But we don’t even know where to look.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I assured him, knowing what Clarisse meant. “We’ll find something.”

“What are you talking about?” Percy asked, confused.

Before anyone could explain, the conch horn sounded.

“I’ll fill you in later, Percy,” Annabeth said. “We’d better get back to our cabins. Inspection is starting.”

____________

I walked quickly toward the Aphrodite cabin, where I was senior counselor- well, half the time, anyway. Since I had been at camp longer than anyone in cabin ten, I was the official head counselor after my sister left. But since I lived away from camp during the school year, my older sister Silena Beauregard took over.

“Hi!” I called, grinning as soon as I saw her. She was straightening her bunk, and overseeing the rest of the cabin cleanup in preparation for cabin inspection in a few minutes.

“Hey!” Silena greeted happily, placing her inspection scroll and pen to the side to hug me. “I thought you weren’t getting here until tomorrow.”

“Little thing with Percy,” I said, pulling away. “It’s fine- I’m happy to be here.” I looked around the cabin. “The place looks great.”

It was true. My siblings were normally neat-freaks, and honestly, so was I, so our cabin always looked nice. I turned back to Silena. “You’re doing a good job.”

For a split second, she looked pained. But when I blinked, she was smiling brightly, so I must have imagined it. “Thanks. Hey, how’s Nisha? And Amara?”

“They’re doing great,” I said. “Amara’s growing like a weed.”

“Hey, Silena?” A timid voice called. I turned to see a young girl with braces and pigtails step hesitantly up to us. “Where are the trash bags kept?”

Silena reached out, grabbing the girl’s hand and pulling her closer to us. “Oh, Lacy, I want you to meet Zia Banerjee, our sister, and senior counselor in the summers. Zia, this is Lacy. She got here a few weeks ago. Mitchell found her on his way to camp.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” I smiled, holding my hand out for Lacy to shake. She shook it, smiling shyly, then turned back to Silena.

“Trash bags are in the bathroom, under the sink,” Silena said. Lacy nodded and scampered off.

“Okay, she’s adorable,” I told my sister.

“I know, right?” She agreed. “Really shy, though. She’s practically imprinted on me, and Mitchell.” Mitchell was one of our half-brothers, and a year younger than me.

I laughed. “Well, we’ll get her out of her shell soon enough,” I said, and Silena laughed.

“I should go,” she said, picking up her scroll and pen. “Inspection is starting. I’ll see you in a little while, for dinner.”

I nodded, and Silena stepped toward the door. “Hey, Silena,” I called, turning to face her before she walked out.

“Yeah?” She asked.

“What do you know about Quintus?”

Her expression darkened. “I don’t know much,” she answered. “But I know his presence probably means something bad is going to happen.”

____________

After inspection was over- cabin ten did very well- I decided to head down to the strawberry fields with my guitar and song notebook. I was a few measures into the song I had been working on when a voice called out from behind me, “Writing a song about me?”

I jumped, stopping my music and turning to see Ethan Nakamura standing behind the bench. I grinned, leaping up and placing my guitar back in its case. “Hi!” I exclaimed happily.

Ethan was one of my best friends at camp besides Percy and Annabeth. He had gotten to camp a few weeks after I had, and I was tasked with showing him around. He was also from California, from San Francisco, and we hit it off immediately. He was a year older than me, and practically my big brother. He was claimed by Nemesis soon after getting to camp, but since Nemesis didn’t have a cabin, he stayed in the Hermes cabin.

We hugged quickly, then did a complicated handshake we came up with a few years ago. No one else knows it.

“How are you?” Ethan asked, both of us sitting down on the bench.

“I’m good, I just got here a few hours ago,” I answered. “I actually just went to Grover’s hearing.”

“How did it go?” At the look on my face, Ethan guessed, “Not good?”

“Not good,” I confirmed. “They gave him one more week before they take his searcher’s license away.”

“One more week?” Ethan asked. “To find a god that’s been missing for thousands of years?” I nodded, and Ethan whistled quietly. “Wow. What’s Grover going to do?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Annabeth has been trying to convince him to try something we’ve been working on with Clarisse all spring, but no luck. But if he only has a week, then this might be his only option.”

“What is it?”

I sighed. “I can’t say just yet. Chiron knows, and he asked me, Annabeth, and Clarisse not to share it with anyone.”

“Not even your best friend?” Ethan asked. His offense was probably a joke, but I couldn’t tell.

“No,” I said, nervously fingering my locket charm. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no, I’m just joking,” Ethan assured me quickly. “You don’t have to tell me if you can’t.”

I relaxed, moving my hand back down to my lap.

“Hey, so how’s Nisha and Amara?” Ethan asked, changing the subject.

“They’re good,” I smiled. “You wouldn’t believe how big Amara’s gotten.”

He must have noticed something in my expression, because he asked, “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head. “Nothing.” He gave me a look and I sighed. “I just- I’m worried about them. I mean, I know that Nisha is more than capable of protecting herself, and Amara, but- Luke is still out there. And he knows that Amara exists, and I’m just worried he’s going to use her to his advantage or something.”

Once, Luke had said he still had friends at camp, and I had realized he probably had spies here, people who had left camp to join his army. I didn’t think there were any spies at camp now. From them, he found out about Amara, his daughter with my sister. She hadn’t told him about her, worried he would try to use the toddler somehow in the war, but he found out anyway.

“They’ll be fine,” Ethan assured me. “Like you said, Nisha can protect herself, and her daughter. And if something does happen, they can come to camp, and we’ll protect them here. Luke is not going to hurt either of them.”

He shakes his head angrily.

“What?” I asked.

Ethan sighed. “It’s just- I hate that the gods won’t protect them. Amara’s a baby, and do you see Aphrodite or Hermes- her grandparents- coming to help? No. They’re gods; they should be doing something.”

“They can’t,” I said, confused at Ethan’s anger. I knew that sometimes he got annoyed with the gods, especially lately, with the war brewing, but I never knew him to be angry. “They can’t interfere. Besides, it’ll be fine. Like you said, Nisha can protect Amara just fine.”

“Yeah,” Ethan said. “Yeah, I know.” He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “Anyway, did you meet Quintus yet? What do you think is in those crates for tomorrow night?”

I let him change the subject to camp training sessions, happily talking about Mrs. O’Leary, and what would be served for dinner tonight, and anything else besides Luke and the gods and the war.

But, still, in the back of my mind, I wondered at his tone.

____________

That night, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean I slept well. I entered the dream world pretty quickly.

See, most demigod dreams weren’t like dreams mortals typically had. We could see events happening in the present, in a different place. We could see events that are about to happen.

Or, sometimes, we could travel back into the past.

I was wandering the woods, not wanting to run into any monsters, but just to look for a quiet place to play my music. I was working on a song that I didn’t want anyone to hear just yet. I walked over rocks as stepping stones, balanced on fallen trees, and splashed through ponds. I was lost in thought. I hadn’t realized how far into the woods I had gone until I heard voices.

“… The heck with laurel wreaths,” a voice was saying. It was rough, and familiar- Luke. I slowed down, something telling me to stay quiet and out of sight.

“I’m not going to end up like those dusty trophies in the Big House attic,” Luke continued.

“You make it sound like you’re leaving,” another voice said. Percy.

I quietly set down my guitar case, and peered around a tree to see Luke wearing a twisted smile. “Oh, I’m leaving all right, Percy. I brought you down here to say goodbye.”

He snapped his fingers. A small fire burned a hole in the ground at Percy’s feet, and out crawled a small creature. A scorpion. My eyes widened.

Percy immediately went for his pen, but Luke stopped him. “I wouldn’t,” he said. “Pit scorpions can jump up to fifteen feet. Its stinger can pierce right through your clothes. You’ll be dead in sixty seconds.”

Percy stared, incredulous. “Luke, what-” He paused. “You.”

What?

Luke stood calmly, brushing off his jeans. The scorpion ignored him. It kept its eyes on Percy as it crawled onto his shoe.

“I saw a lot out there in the world, Percy,” Luke said. “Didn’t you feel it- the darkness gathering, the monsters growing stronger? Didn’t you realize how useless it all is? All the heroics, being pawns of the gods. They should’ve been overthrown thousands of years ago, but they’ve hung on, thanks to us half-bloods.”

What was Luke doing?

“Luke…” Percy managed. “You’re talking about our parents.”

Luke laughed. “Is that supposed to make me love them?” He asked. “Their precious ‘Western Civilization’ is a disease, Percy. It’s killing the world. The only way to stop it is to burn it to the ground, start over with something more honest.”

“You’re as crazy as Ares.”

“Ares was a fool,” Luke spat. “He never realized the true master he was serving. If I had time, Percy, I could explain. But I’m afraid you won’t live that long.”

The scorpion crawled onto Percy’s leg.

“Kronos,” Percy said. “That’s who you serve.”

The air seemed to get colder when Percy said that name.

“You should be careful with names,” Luke said.

“Kronos got you to steal the master bolt and the helm,” Percy continued. “He spoke to you in your dreams.”

“He spoke to you, too, Percy. You should’ve listened.”

“He’s brainwashing you, Luke,” Percy insisted.

Luke shook his head. “You’re wrong. He showed me that my talents are being wasted. You know what my quest was two years ago, Percy? My father, Hermes, wanted me to steal a golden apple from the Garden of the Hesperides and return it to Olympus. After all the training I’d done, that was the best he could think up.”

“That’s not an easy quest. Hercules did it.”

“Exactly. What’s the glory in repeating what others have done? All the gods know how to do is replay their past. My heart wasn’t in it. The dragon in the garden gave me this-” he pointed angrily at his scar “-and when I came back, all I got was pity. Even from Nisha. I wanted to pull Olympus down stone by stone right then, but I bided my time. I began to dream of Kronos. He convinced me to steal something worthwhile, something no hero had ever had the courage to take. When we went on that winter-solstice field trip, while Nisha and the others were asleep, I snuck into the throne room and took Zeus’ master bolt right from his chair. Hades’ helm of darkness, too. You wouldn’t believe how easy it was. The Olympians are so arrogant; they never dreamed someone would dare steal from them. Their security is horrible. I was halfway across New Jersey before I heard the storms rumbling, and I knew they’d discovered my theft.”

The scorpion was sitting on Percy’s knee now. I could barely breathe. All of this- it was too much.

“So why didn’t you bring the items to Kronos?” Percy asked, bringing me back.

“I… I got overconfident,” Luke admitted. “Zeus sent out his sons and daughters to find the stolen bolt- Artemis, Apollo, my father, Hermes. But it was Ares who caught me. I could have beaten him, but I wasn’t careful enough. He disarmed me, took the items of power, threatened to return them to Olympus and burn me alive. Then Kronos’ voice came to me and told me what to say. I put the idea in Ares’ head about a great war between the gods. I said all he had to do was hide the items away for a while and watch the others fight. Ares got a wicked gleam in his eyes. I knew he was hooked. He let me go, and I returned to Olympus before anyone had noticed my absence.” He drew his sword- but it wasn’t his sword. This one was different, one side celestial bronze, the other steel. Why did he get a new sword? “Afterward, the Lord of the Titans… h-he punished me with nightmares. I swore not to fail again. Back at Camp Half-Blood, in my dreams, I was told that a second hero would arrive, one who could be tricked into taking the bolt and the helm the rest of the way- from Ares down to Tartarus.”

“You summoned the hellhound, that night in the forest,” Percy realized.

“We had to make Chiron think the camp wasn’t safe for you, so he would start you on your quest,” Luke confirmed. “We had to confirm his fears that Hades was after you. And it worked.”

“The flying shoes were cursed,” Percy said. “They were supposed to drag me and the backpack into Tartarus.”

“And they would have, if you’d been wearing them. But you gave them to the satyr, which wasn’t part of the plan. Grover messes up everything he touches. He even confused the curse.”

My mind was reeling, trying to process everything Luke was saying. What had happened to my big brother?

Luke looked down at the scorpion, which was now on Percy’s thigh. “You should have died in Tartarus, Percy. But don’t worry. I’ll leave you with my little friend to set things right.”

“Thalia gave her life to save you!” Percy said. “And this is how you repay her?”

“Don’t speak of Thalia!” Luke shouted. “The gods let her die! That’s one of the many things they will pay for. I remember seeing Nisha after that empousa killed her father. She was devastated, but she had to be strong. Zia… she was wrecked, and Nisha was forced to step up and raise her. The girls were destroyed, and Aphrodite, their mother, wasn't there for either one. She should have been.”

That was the breaking point. I drew my sword, stepping out from behind the trees. “What are you doing?” I demanded, drawing both Luke and Percy’s attention. My eyes were on Luke as I tried to keep my voice from shaking. “What- you made us go through- I- I trusted you!” I couldn’t stop stammering, my mind going a mile a minute. “I loved you- Nisha loved you. You were my hero!” I shook my head. “Why?”

“You wouldn’t understand, Zia,” Luke said. “You have enough trouble understanding the little details, let alone the big picture, of anything you encounter. I don’t expect you to understand my reasons.”

My eyes stung. Never- not once- has Luke ever spoken to me like that. He had been dating Nisha for two years before we met, and he immediately took me under his wing. With my autism, I always had to try hard to come across as socially competent. My jokes tended to land wrong, I had a difficult time registering social cues, and I info-dumped a lot. But Luke never cared about any of that. He helped Nisha raise me since the moment I got to camp. I couldn’t believe he would use that to insult me now.

“What has your mother ever done for you, Zia?” Luke continued. “Kronos will rise. You two have only delayed his plans. He will cast the Olympians into Tartarus and drive humanity back to their caves. All except the strongest- the ones who serve him.”

“You won’t get away with this,” I vowed, forcing my voice to be stronger.

Luke tilted his head, smirking. “Oh, Zia. I already have. Good-bye, both of you. There is a new Golden Age coming. You won’t be part of it. I would ask you to tell Nisha good-bye for me, but neither of you will be able to make it back to camp.”

He slashed his sword in an arc and disappeared in a ripple of darkness.

The scorpion lunged at Percy. I jerked forward instinctively, and swatted it away from him with my hand. Percy uncapped his sword and swung at the scorpion as it jumped at me, cutting it in half in midair.

I thought that everything was fine until I looked down at my hand. The back of it, where I had hit the scorpion, had a huge red welt, oozing and smoking yellow. The thing had gotten me.

My ears pounded. My vision went foggy. I stumbled, almost collapsed. I barely registered arms around me, holding me up, someone calling my name.

My vision was getting dark.

‘Sixty seconds’ Luke had said.

I had to get to camp. Percy was holding me, shouting for help, dragging me toward camp.

I felt something wrap their hands around my arms, removing me from Percy’s, tugging me toward camp.

I made it to the clearing, where I recognized my sister’s face, her screaming, a centaur blowing a conch horn.

Then everything went black.

____________

I bolted upright in bed, breathing hard. I was sweaty. I felt something wet on my face, and I reached up and realized I was crying. I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. Four in the morning.

Everyone in the Aphrodite cabin was sleeping. The girl on the top bunk above me, Emily, was snoring lightly. The new girl, Lacy, turned over in her sleep.

I looked down at my hand. I couldn’t see it in the dark, but there was a scar there, from that scorpion. Even the ambrosia and nectar the Apollo cabin gave me couldn’t heal the scar, a vivid reminder of that horrible day.

I remembered how much I missed Luke in the days after his betrayal. I hadn’t wanted to admit it, but I did. Before that day, I had a big brother. I was sure of my place in the world, I was happy.

Now, everything was so uncertain, and I didn’t have a clue what to do about it.

[phenomenal1500]

The Blood In My Veins | Black Sails

Chapter 60: XXXIII

For Chapter 59: Actions Have Consequences click here.

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

"Find her? I have her." I immediately smiled at Charles before giving him a shoulder bump to give him credits for his amazing guessing skills and he playfully grabbed me by the hip to push me against him. As always I let out an embarrassing squeak and gasped for air as Charles placed his other hand right under my breast to secretly outline it.

"Then show us!"

~~~

Slowly, the day had almost passed just as fast as a human could blink and see the world again and I had settled myself at the shoreline to watch the sea come closer and pull back again every few seconds followed by the small clear waves. The pirates under Billy Bones leadership were prepared to hold the beach against Woodes Rogers' redcoats and as I examined them they seemed to be ready for every possible strategy and their minds were open for every option that could happen. However.... of course the fighting spirit was soon over when we all noticed that only Silver was returning from the fort and with one of my eyebrows raised I wondered where he had left Flint. Had he killed him?

I didn't have to do much to hear that information because the news was already spreading across the island in less than a second after Silver and Billy had discussed it.

The deal had been done; we were buying Nassau back, in exchange for the cache of the stolen Urca gold.

How weak it sounded for us to choose this outcome.... it also sounded way too easy if I thought about it.

A woman would be rowing out to Rogers' ship to persuade him to sail to Port Royal and await Eleanor Guthrie's arrival with the gold that we had to hand over to regain Nassau. It all sounded too good to be true and I immediately knew there was something off about the deal. Besides, Rogers would never retreat until he had Nassau. I've seen his true self.

Of course I had to warn one of our most important leaders, the one that was now stuck as hostage in that fucking miserable fort.

God, how many bad memories were linked to that place? The war between Flint and Charles.... Abigail's captivity.... my captivity.... Jack's captivity.... Charles' captivity for the second time and almost certain death twice. Slowly I pushed myself up and sighed while letting all the memories flow away as I walked to the hard surface to get a better grip under my feet before I made my way towards the fancy building it had all started in. The Governor's Mansion. I remembered that Jack had made it his salon after he had conquered the L'Urca De Lima. The citizens of Nassau drank, fucked and gambled in the parlor, while Jack had moved into one of the bedrooms to claim it as his own with me moving in for a week or so after Charles had left off to sea, tricked by Jack into capturing a slave ship.

Those weeks had been calm, no enemies to deal with and no problems. Well, that was before the rumours had spread about the imminent arrival of Woodes Rogers.

Jack had then gathered the most important people to discuss the defence of Nassau, but some had tried to refuse before Jack had shown his newly grown backbone by threatening their crews directly.

That was also the first place where I had met Charles' mentor, Edward Teach.... who had at the time announced that Flint had died by the hands of Captain Hornigold. The news had ripped away my faith. Of course I trusted Jack and Charles with my whole life, but I somehow already had felt it in my bones that the show of force wouldn't work out. Because of all that we had now ended up here and to get Nassau back so easily after all the effort we had to put into our forces to regain it would perhaps lure us into a massive trap.

I dragged my tired body up the few stair steps and leaned against the door frame as I watched Charles puzzle out the best strategies with two other men I remembered as his loyal crew members.

I didn't want to disturb them and stood there until one of the men turned around to share a gaze with me. "Captain, I think someone needs you."

Charles didn't even have to think about who the man was talking about and still stood ahead of me with his back my way, leaning over the big table in the middle of the room.

"Naida.... something's off and I can't get it out of my mind." He ran his hands through his long hair, being completely honest with me about his feelings in a long time again, and I hooked my foot behind the leg of the chair on the opposite side of Charles to pull it back and sit down on it straight in front of him.

"I know." I sighed while closing my eyes, afterwards watching the ceiling as I leaned my elbows on the table we had once used to discuss the future and defence of Nassau.

"You heard about it as well?"

"Mhuh." I hummed and looked Charles straight in the eye as he straightened his back and shook his head.

"I can't believe Flint would agree to this, you?"

"I don't know, perhaps he was done with everything, wanting to secure the island and the people within it."

"He would never give up his war." Charles reminded me, but I was still deep down hoping that all of this would be over one day, just so that maybe he and I could one day live how it should have been.

I didn't know how quickly it happened after I had found Charles, but suddenly the room filled with familiar faces who really had no business here anymore.

I was completely lost and I, confused, gazed at Silver who hopped in last after the room was full as I was trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.

"A ship was spotted on the horizon, approaching the rendezvous beach from the south and flying no colors. Kofi and his men are returning. The wind is dying out. The cache will be on the sand in a few hours, at most." Billy coughed a bit to clear his throat while letting his eyes scan the room.

"Who knows they've arrived?"

"So far? Him, you, them...." Billy pointed at me and Charles who calmly walked their way. "And I. That's it."

"But sooner or later, people are going to know." I whispered to the men as we had approached the two and I leaned against the desk to support myself while Charles sat down.

"And we're going to have to give them instructions about what happens to that cache once it lands." Charles went on talking as he rolled a coin through his fingers while resting his boot on his upper leg. He didn't let his eyes drop from the coin so he wouldn't make a mistake, but we all knew he was concentrating on thinking about the best options.

It was always something Charles did to think harder about an important strategy or subject. He was a man with a lot on his mind and by focusing on the coin he could always concentrate on one particular thing.

The reason why I sang was the reason why he rolled a coin through his fingers.

"There's no more putting off a decision. Giving up that money is an impossibility." Silver clenched his jaw as Billy leaned more forward to the four of us so that nobody would suspect what it really was about. "Flint will just keep pushing for these things, costly things that we pay for with our own suffering, with our own lives. You know this. You've always known this." Silver had softly shook his head and sighed while Billy lowered his voice even more so I had to really focus on his lips to understand what was going on. "Sooner or later, it has to end. You send word to the fort and tell them it's here. Arrange for them to come out. I'll have men waiting there. I'll end it quickly. All you have to do is look the other way."

"I don't want it happening in full view of that beach."

"Yeah..." I noticed that Billy looked very tired because of the red glow and bags under his eyes and Silver didn't look so good either, probably both struggling with the former 'friendship' that had been lost by the war.

While I was examining the two men, Mady walked through the door and closed it behind her with a stern face expression as usual, softening a bit as she walked further in and spotted Silver. Charles and I smiled at each other and greeted the unknown red-haired man before my lover got up and offered me his hand to leave the Governor's Mansion with me, clearly a sign to leave the two lovebirds alone.

~~~

Me, Charles and Mady with a few more companions of her side had been ordered to wait for Eleanor and Flint to emerge via the secret tunnel that had led to the fort because Silver had notified that he didn't want the exchange to happen in full view on the beach. It somehow sounded weird and suspicious, but I didn't have to complain about such things. Our only job was to escort Flint and that bitch to a secluded beach which wasn't that far away from the center of Nassau and.... I got to see Flint again. As I heard the insects chirping, I peacefully played with a white butterfly that had landed on my leg and took in a deep sigh as I spotted the blond woman stepping into the light, followed by the redcoats that tried to both.... kill.... Charles.

My heart suddenly started to beat faster and I couldn't hear my surroundings because of the blood pounding in my ears that blocked the other sounds.

I saw nothing but red and squeezed my hands until my nails had torn my soft skin, leaving small moon shaped cuts into my palms.

That whore had stripped me from almost everything, twice! I clenched my jaw in full hate and tears of hatred filled my reddish eyes. It wasn't long before I pulled a knife from my boot and longed for nothing but her death, but instead of actually cutting her to fucking pieces, I had been stopped by the careful and gentle arms of the man I loved and I gazed at him in horror. Why didn't he feel the same way as I did?

"She would have killed you if I hadn't saved you from that fucking fort.... and you are stopping me from the one thing we all fucking want!!"

Before I knew it, I was pushed tightly against the muscular man and bursted into tears without even realizing it. I no longer cared about how my reputation crumbled down at the moment, these people didn't even notice any of this happening as they had already put a pace behind their walking and Flint was the only one waiting for us. Slowly a hand was moving up and down my back to keep me calm and little kisses were left on my hair.

Luckily for the blond whore it helped because the red atmosphere quickly turned gloomy and l became a calm and tired mess.

When Charles got up and hoisted me up with him, he knocked the dust off my clothes and dried my tears before I started doing it myself, taking a deep breath as I did so.

Eventually I managed to stay calm around the demon and we walked through the dunes behind Mady.

Of course I walked next to Flint and Charles who were both always on the lookout if I had any tendencies to turn that whore's neck around again, but for now I would leave her alone until I found the right time.

We actually walked to the coast for the price of the L'Urca De Lima, however, the only thing waiting for us was a delightful Jack with a small crew; the ship that was seen approaching was Jack's and not the one sent to retrieve the gold.

"STAND DOWN!!! JUST WAIT!!!" The clumsy, but highly intelligent man pointed out at his crew as he noticed who stepped his way.

I hadn't seen Jack for maybe a month and a half, and he didn't know the news about Charles who hadn't yet given up his life at the gallows.

With full joy I pushed Charles and Flint to the waterfront and the three of us walked to Jack at a high speed.

It seemed like I wasn't the only one happy to see him.

"Flint?" He furrowed his eyebrows until he saw us. "Naida! Charles!"

"What are you doing here?" Flint questioned the man as Charles and I took turns giving Jack a tight embrace and he was amazed when he saw Charles and me healthy and well. He also immediately changed his gaze to my stomach and I smiled, confirming the kid and I were also okay.

He had cared for us both when we were captured so it was normal for him to question its health.

"Thank you, Jack, for keeping me safe from the governor." I thanked him as I thought back to the day when Jack and I were imprisoned together in Nassau. He had offered himself to go free willingly with Rogers if I was allowed to walk freely around Nassau, unharmed, as long as I did nothing that had something to do with conspiracy against civilisation.

"You're welcome, Dear." He smiled back and then watched Flint. "We escaped the governor's men. Came back to rejoin the fight, but didn't know if the harbor was safe to enter. What are you doing here?"

~~~

"You want to trade it? You want to trade the cache, my cache?"

"It was the only way we could avoid a fight we were more than likely to lose. And it guarantees us control of the island today and for certain."

"All it guarantees is we no longer have the cache that we all agreed was critical. And who decided this? You and Mr. Silver? Because I can't imagine Naida and Charles committing to such a thing." Flint had stayed quiet as he knew Jack was right and I watched the ground. We could have stopped them, but it was too late when Charles and I figured out their plan. "Ah... It won't work."

"It's done. It's already agreed to."

"She agreed to it. Her people agreed. You've agreed. Naida and Charles and I probably didn't. But it's all meaningless unless and until he agrees. Woodes Rogers."

"He left the island for Port Royal as she asked to await her arrival with the money. He's already agreed to it."

"No, he hasn't. I watched him defeat Edward Teach in battle...." I gasped as it occurred to me that Jack had just declared Teach as dead and right away my thoughts went to Charles who had lost his father figure. I gently pushed myself against Charles's side as I wrapped my arms around him and I noticed that Charles weakly embraced me back. "Outnumbered and through sheer force of will. I saw his bloodlust with my own eyes. That man will never surrender his position here. He will never allow himself to be defeated by you or I. Not because we bribed him, not because Eleanor Guthrie told him so. He simply will not allow it to happen. I don't know where that man went or what designs drew him there, but this I know.... Woodes Rogers will be returning.... and this fight isn't nearly over."

[sourbat]

Oh my god I'm sorry I only asked for magtock for my friend HAHA uhh how about abigail/charles for 10 instead?

Sounds cool, friend. Charles/Abigail it is. 

A hello/good-bye kiss that is given without thinking - where neither person thinks twice about it.

Again, took some liberties with this one. 

Another all-nighter, Abigail muses as she saves and exits a document. A glance of her wristwatch reveals it is nearly midnight. She expels an amused sigh. Fourteen hours today. Not quite as impressive as her seventeen-hour record, but still worthy of a few self-praises. She mentally pats herself on the back, shuts down her laptop and begins packing her belongings, ready to head to her room when the door to her office clicks open. She raises her head and sees Charles slowly making his entrance, looking poignantly reserved, but carrying a frightening weight on each stiffened shoulder.

“Long night?” Abigail asks, smiling clearly as Charles takes a seat in front of her desk.  

Charles rolls his thumb and forefinger into the corners of his eyes. “When is it anything but?” he remarks, shutting them as he presses the appendages into the sockets.

“Would you like to talk about it?

Charles ceases his complaints, raises his head and stares auspiciously at Abigail. Her smile nets his eyes, and without breaking away, he answers, “With you? Always.”

Like always, his response comes off as overly formal. Even his stare, though expressive at its most center, gave off a natural severity to it. Years of important planning, business ventures, and life-threatening scenarios have left each pupil permanently radiating solemnity.

It takes an expert to read between the lines.

Abigail raises a finger. “One sec,” she says, then leaves her desk and heads to one of the shelves tucked in the corner of her office. She picks up a bottle of gin. “Martini?”

He raises one as well; first, to protest, but drops it as the thought lingers. With a glance around the room, Charles relaxes into his seat. “Why not?”

“How dirty do you like it?”

“I like the alcohol to speak for itself.”

Abigail pours an equal amount of vermouth and gin into a mixer. “Coming right up.”

Charles listens to her pour the concoction. A few seconds, then ice clinks into the steel mixer. His eyes shut as she gives it a shake, and when he opens them, smells the subtle tang of green olives wafting in the air.

Holding the drinks, Abigail passes the desk, taking a seat by the dying fire. She places the glasses on a coaster, then reclines into a sofa, resting one leg on top the other. Her tired eyes close, and for a while, it’s the sound of crackling wood and Charles’ footsteps approaching her. She waits until she feels the pressure of the neighboring cushion shift, then, without opening her eyes, asks, “what was it?”  

Charles picks up his drink, then stares into the flames. “The boys tried turning the hallways into a slip-n-slide, with alcohol as their liquid of choice.”

“Sounds like quite the havoc.” Abigail smiles as she hears Charles sigh next to her. She opens her eyes wide enough to catch the glimmer of weakened flames on her right, then runs to her left to rest a hand on Charles’ lap. “Let me guess,” she says, “Toki and Pickles?”

Charles huffs. “And Nathan.”

“Nathan was part of it?”

“He suggested the location,” Charles replies with closed eyes. A hand drags through his furrowed brow, failing to ease the strain of the recent memory. “It was Toki’s idea, and Pickles supplied the alcohol.”  

“How very organized,” Abigail notes, then raises her glass for a sip. She stirs an olive that bobs at the bottom center while Charles contemplates his own. A snicker. “They’re evolving.” 

He stops himself from taking a sip. “That’s not funny,” he warns, but she merely smiles at his frown, then rests her head on his shoulder.  

Dancing shadows begin to stretch as the last of the firewood snaps, cracks in half and reveals its molten red core. Abigail waits, feels the rough knob of Charles’ muscles against her temple, but doesn’t respond to it. She knows he doesn’t mean it. It’s the stress. The long, unpredictable shifts that could easily result in someone’s life ending if one wasn’t careful.

Since meeting Charles, Abigail’s been nothing short of astounded. Charles’ long term connection with Dethklok was an impressive feat on its own; few managers had the honor of sticking with their band for such a long time. More remarkable was the empire he created since launching the band’s career. Abigail knows it’s unusual, perhaps outright insane that she’s spent several hours navigating dangerous hallways loaded with traps, conversing in meetings with klokateers who will likely die by the week’s end, or working alongside a band that seems to draw death in its wake. It is insane, but when she takes a step back and sees the results, the rising bar graphs reaching impossible levels, the scientific breakthroughs and the growing economy, she can’t but push a little more, try a little harder. She does this because she knows she’s part of something great, something far bigger than she can completely comprehend.

Abigail carefully brings the glass to her lips. 

Whatever she’s taking part in, the music she’s helping produce, none of it would be possible if it weren’t for Charles. She sighs a refreshing breath, tasting the remains of a subtle, smooth burn. “Relax,” she says, then, with the hand resting on Charles’ leg, gives it a light pat.  

“Took an hour to clean it up.” A burning piece of wood cracks as the two sit in silence.

Abigail raises her hand, locates Charles’ chin and, with just her index finger, brings it up to meet her expecting stare. “Just say the word, and I’ll have him kissing your feet when I’m done with them.”

Charles’s lidded stare glimmers under the deepening orange flare. His jaw slackens, and lips part. “There’s no need to be cruel.”  

“Are you sure?” she asks, and watches in mild amusement as Charles returns to his drink.

Martini glass pressed under his nose, Charles takes a whiff. His eyes slowly close as he raises the glass to his lips, and takes a hearty gulp. The wood cracks and embers sizzle from the center. Abigail uncrosses her legs to stretch.

Charles swallows. “You sent them to another country.”

“I did.”

“With no money or guards to look after them.”

Drink finished, Abigail takes the olive from her empty glass. “You’re correct,” she says. She bites into her olive and savors its tangy flavor.

Charles stares at the remains of his drink and shakes his head at it. At her. “For music.” 

“And I made damn good music,” Abigail declares, then wraps her arm around Charles’ neck. She pulls him in gently, letting him consciously do the work for her. “And you need a break.”

The words come off too sultry to be professional. Abigail’s aware of this, but doesn’t mind. She’s only been working at Mordhaus for a few months, but since becoming a member of the staff, has spent more than her fair share of tiresome, therapeutic nights with Charles. It had started as a mistake, him entering her office confusing her for a previous assistant, but sticking along to provide her some suggestions when she complained of the many distractions offered by the band. He showed up again a week later, appearing stressed; and she, remembering his service to her, offered her support. Since then, they maintained these impromptu meetings, with one appearing before the other, always unannounced, but usually asking for the same, unspoken thing. Until recently, Abigail assumed it to be good company, but the more she dwells within Mordhaus’ cold walls, the longer she works and watches the expanding empire, and then concludes her day here, in the middle of the night, with him, Abigail isn’t sure she can remain satisfied with such a answer.  

The fire dies, and the light dims, held only by the few lamps Abigail kept on as she worked. Shadows cast over each of their forms, creating dark silhouettes that make it near impossible to read another, but Abigail is confident she sees something glimmer, a sparkle of hope that reflects in Charles’ glasses. 

The door bursts open.

A klokateer steps forward. “My Lord. Madam.”

Charles breaks from Abigail. “What is it?” he asks, weary voice replaced with a more controlled tenor.

The klokateer raises a flashing, red screen. “It’s Lord Skwigelf. He, along with Lord Wartooth and Murderface–”

Sighing, Charles readies to stand up, but is met with Abigail’s arm blocking his path.

“I’ll take of it,” she declares, not looking at Charles until she leaves the seat. She buttons her suit top, runs her hand through the bottom of her weighted hair, and puts on a fresh smile. She faces Charles, appearing before him as a new, refreshed person. “Finish your drink.” 

Charles frowns. He stirs the floating olive as he twirls the glass between his fingers, then, with an exhale, raises the glass and finishes the rest of his drink. Oh, so it’s like, Abigail thinks. Amused, she watches Charles come to stand. Like her, the effects of the day are washed away. He stares firmly at her. “I must insist that you let me talk to the boys.” 

Abigail crosses her arms. “And I insist you let me make their remaining night hell.”

The room goes silent again. Charles narrows his eyes into a testing, but apologetic stare. Abigail easily counters it with one of her own, abundantly filled with immovable determination. 

“We go together,” Charles finally announces. “I will speak with the boys.” 

“And I’ll offer… suggestions,” Abigail adds, watching Charles’ expression shift from concern to approval in a matter of seconds. A snicker unfolds from her person.  “And–”

“And?”

“And if one of them insults you,” Abigail leads, watching Charles’s brows lift at the unfinished suggestion, “then maybe I come up with a suitable punishment that makes them second guess their actions?”

Charles fixes his glasses. “Nothing…drastic, alright?”

“Of course, Mr. Offdensen,” Abigail replies. It’s dark, but the few remaining embers behind her light up enough to catch the formation of a small, relieved smile. “Alright,” she says, louder so that the klokateer can hear, “let’s go then.” 

Charles nods. “Of course,” he responds, then offers her his hand. “Lead the way.

It’s the first time he’s offered. Abigail says nothing, but gives a proud nod, and as she turns to the turn, feels the weight of the alcohol lift her spirits, fluttering across her chest as she approaches the door. A hand brushes her, large and cooler, and when she reaches for a coat, takes it from the hanger, rises and turns, meets soft lips brushing against her.

It’s a moment in time that ends quicker than either can register, and with a klokateer describing the unfolding events, how the guitarists challenged each other to a series of games, and after a row, were evenly matched, thought it was best to drive drunk to the nearest Round One and conclude their marathon, neither has time to react, much less respond to the fading embers of affection. Abigail listens intently, and Charles by her side, neither expressing anything more than what’s expected, and neither giving the other more than the sporadic, but overly professional glance.

A hellicopter takes flight. Its passengers huddle close, standing beside one another, arm around waist, another carrying a set of binoculars to locate the three missing guitarists.

Under the roaring turbines, a hand shifts across the side, sending a welcoming shiver.

Green eyes flutter. A head rests on a shoulder, and hair pools and flows gently in the wind.

It's the beginning of a brand new day, and Charles finally smiles.

A klokateer assigned with cleaning enters the office sometimes later, finds the lingering warmth and empty glasses. Sensing a return, they replace the sullied glasses in preparation for round two, walk to the fireplace, and add logs and set the hearth aflame.

[axwalker]

The Trade 12

Synopsis:  Liam is running for Cordonia’s presidency. To assure his victory, Constantine makes an arraignment behind his back for him to marry the rich ambassador’s daughter: Alexis O’Brien. Due to her father’s threats, she has no other option than to seduce Liam Rhys. But what happens when she falls in love with his best friend? (AU)

Pairings: DrakexMC

Warnings: I love drama and chaos so this will probably get a bit dark. In this chapter there is mention of rape, if you get triggered by this issue, don’t hesitate to send me a message and I’ll be glad to explain what happens without reading it. A lot of angst and heartbreak

Please note that this is my first series and English is not my first language. I really love ALL kinds of feedback.  Don’t hesitate to comment!

Disclaimer: Some of the dialogues and settings as well as most of the characters belong to Pixelberry (except for Alexis O’Brien and her evil father George O’Brien JR).

To catch up: Masterlist

Thanks to @pedudley​  my awesome beta reader, your comments and encouragement mean so much.  And of course, to @mskaneko​ for this beautiful mood board, and all the other great edits and mood boards 💕💕  Love you girls!!

Kiara being Kiara speaks a bit of French in this episode the translations are at the end of the chapter.

WE’RE ALMOST AT THE END!!

@burnsoslow  @mskaneko​ @drxkewalker @pedudley @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @pug-bitch @lauzales @desireepow-1986 @yukinagato2012 @kingliam2019 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @debramcg1106 @speedyoperarascalparty @drakewalker04 @ac27dj @ravenpuff02 @msjr0119 @texaskitten30​ @loveellamae​

Liam was sitting in the living room, with a scotch in his hand when Maxwell and Alexis arrived.

“Alexis, thank god you are alright. I was worr-“ he stopped himself noticing that she had been crying. “Love, I’m sorry I made you cry. Please, believe it wasn’t my intention.”

He took a step towards her, but she raised her hand, stopping him, she felt emotionally drained. “That’s not the reason I’m crying.” She stared at him “However, I do want you to think very thoroughly about the kind of wife you want because I won’t limit myself to bear your children and smile prettily at your meetings. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m very tired, we’ll talk tomorrow. Good night, Max.” she gave Maxwell a kiss on his cheek and waved at his fiancé “Good night, Liam”

Liam was about to follow her, but Maxwell grabbed his arm. Alexis had told him everything about Abigail on the ride back and he knew she needed time alone.

“Li! Can I give you some unsolicited advice?” The blond man looked at him expectantly. “Give her some space. Let her breathe, man. You’ll talk tomorrow “

Liam nodded and left the room to go bed.

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Drake was twelve years old when he arrived at the Rhys mansion to live with Constantine and his family. Bastien had convinced the President to take the Walker children after their father had died to protect him. The president had accepted to take them in and give them the best possible education, not only as a proof of his gratitude but as a magnificent publicity stunt, he knew the voters would love it.

Drake was reluctant to go with them. Regina and Constantine were both extremely cold parents and he knew her mother had never liked either of them. What if they were horrible to him, or worst, to his baby sister?

He was so nervous that not even the thrill of living with his best friend was enough to calm him. Bastien showed them their respective rooms, both twice as big as their old ones at the old Walker cabin. Savannah was even more scared than him, her heart was beating furiously, and she was clutching her teddy bear so hard that her knuckles went white.

“It’s ok Sav, we’ll be fine here, you know Li and Leo are cool” He tried to sound as mature as he could.

Savannah couldn’t stop her tears any longer. “You always tease me when you’re with them.”

He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it “We won’t anymore, Sav. I promise”

“I second that,” Liam poked his head into Savannah’s room. “We won’t tease you anymore Savvie. But the two of you can help us get back at Leo. Olivia and I are thinking how to prank him after he hid stinky bombs under our chairs on Livvie’s birthday. When we sat down, they exploded, and the room was reeking. Olivia was so furious she persecuted him with the knife for her cake and my dad punished us for a month” He seemed really amused by the memory.

Savannah smiled shyly behind her bear. “He really did that?”

“Yes, he also took some red coloring from the kitchen and put it on Olivia’s toothpaste, she spent the whole day with red teeth. Well, that one backfired, she was delighted when everyone thought she had been on a fight” Liam grinned at them. After losing his own mother three years before, he understood how anxious they were feeling, and he wanted them to feel welcome.

Drake smiled seeing his sister was calmer and shot a grateful look at Liam. He put his arm around Savannah’s shoulders and winked at his best friend “We will definitely think of something”

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Drake had waited a more than an hour before leaving the beach so he wouldn’t arrive at Theron’s mansion at the same time as Max and Alexis. When he finally started driving his mind drifted to the day after his mother had left. He took a deep breath remembering how sad and scared him and Sav had been and how much Liam had wanted to comfort them. All that pain because his mother had decided to abandon her own children without looking back. It astonished him that Alexis had thought that the two situations were remotely similar. She had been strong and generous, where her mother had been flaky and weak. Alexis would do anything to keep her daughter safe, his mother couldn’t care less about them.

Drake sighed thinking of her, of the roller coaster of emotions she had put him through. And now that he had finally understood the reasons behind the way she was acting, his only wish was to kill George O’Brien with his bare hands. That asshole had not only failed in protecting Alexis, but he had had the nerve of making her feel guilty and worthless. He had abandoned her when she had needed him the most and then he had forced her to give up her own daughter. His blood boiled thinking of Alexis, young, terrified and alone, and of her pain so raw, so deep despite the years. He remembered her soft voice telling him that she had never felt safe before him. That son of a bitch had to pay.

He dialed Kiara’s phone.

“Drake?”

“Hi, Kiara. I just wanted to know if Ambassador O’Brien is staying at your estate tonight with the rest of us.”

“Uhm, yes. I think my staff gave him the blue room, you know?” Kiara lowered her voice. “The one where you and I almost…”

Drake sighed, they had almost slept together ten years ago during a Beaumont Bash and she wouldn’t let it go.  “Yes, I know. Thanks Kiara”

“Wait, Drake, I think he’s-“

Drake stopped the call and speeded up, he wasn’t thinking clearly, the only thing in his mind was to teach that monster a lesson.

When he arrived at the house, he jumped out of his car and entered the mansion furiously. In less than a second he was in the room Kiara had mentioned. He slammed the doors open only to find her, sitting in the bed.

“Coucou! (1) You got me all curious, Drake. You hung up the phone so fast, I couldn’t tell you that George is out of the country. He had some business to do in France” She stood up and walked towards Drake, putting her arms around his neck. “Why are you looking for him?”

He grabbed her arms and put them away. “Something for the campaign, forget about it.”

“S’il te plaît mon chéri. Tu as l’air très énervé ! (2) It has to be something more than a simple professional matter”

“I don’t speak fucking French Kiara and is not of your business. Good night.” Drake left the room as angrily as he had entered it.

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

Hakim Theron was satisfied that the campaign had finally reached Castelraillan. It would be much easier to carry out his plans without worrying about missing crucial information.

Penelope had proved effective, but she didn’t have the brains or the wit to take matters into her hands. Plus she had to keep an eye on him, his secret weapon, the one who would definitely destroy Liam’s presidential dreams.

Hakim hoped that the boy didn’t take his betrayal personally, it wasn’t something he had against him or even Constantine, as much as he disliked the old man. It was what was best for Cordonia. Liam wanted to change too many things too fast and that could be dangerous for his country’s stability. It would be better for everyone, if things could go back to the way they were.

He smiled seeing Alexis and Tariq’s pictures, it was ironic that Constantine had brought to his son’s campaign the woman that was going to, unknowingly, destroy it.

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Alexis got into the car that was going to take her to the rally at Castelraillan and decided to check the final details of her last speech on the ride. She sighed thinking about how much she wanted to keep on working with Liam. Ironically, he had fired her because of Drake but Drake wasn’t the reason she wanted to be part of the campaign. The reason was Liam. His passion, his ideas, and his determination to change his country inspired her and made her admire him.

“Can I come in?” She turned her head to the car’s door and saw Liam with a couple of coffees and some pastries in a box.

“My father is waiting for me in the other car, but I much rather share these cronuts with you.” He smiled charmingly.

She couldn’t suppress a smile. “Well, if you bought too many cronuts, I could always help you with that.”

He entered the car and sat next to her, opening the box. “Take one.” He handed her one of the coffees. “And here’s a latte too”

She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she drank her coffee black, no sugar. Like Drake.

“Thank you, Li.”

He leaned to give her a soft kiss stroking her cheek with his hand. “I’m sorry about your role in the campaign, Alexis, but I really think it is for the best. I know you think that it’s about Drake, but it’s not.”

She shook her head rolling her eyes.

“Well, not only,” he conceded. “If I win you are going to be the First Lady of this country. You should be focusing on preparing for that, my love.” He kissed her knuckles. “You will have a lot of charities and philanthropic work, and of course you should be planning our engagement party and our wedding. I wouldn’t expect nor want that you limit yourself to smile prettily. I need a partner, someone I can trust next to me. But being my wife won’t be easy.”

Alexis nodded, finally acknowledging what her life would be from that moment on. Fancy and uncomfortable dresses, high painful heels, endless galas, and boring meetings for the hundreds of charities she would preside but would have no real involvement in.

Alexis was going to have to accept the fact that she wasn’t her own person anymore. Her dreams of hiking and camping in the forest, traveling around the world or writing a children’s novel one day weren’t a possibility any longer. Becoming First Lady would bring a whole set of responsibilities and she would have to live with that.

However, the worst part would be learning how to live with an eternal broken heart. She focused on the view behind the window. “I know, Liam. I’ll ask Max for help to plan the party and the wedding.”

“Perfect darling. And you can also count on Regina” The limousine parked “Here we are.”

When they got out of the car, dozens of paparazzi were waiting for them. Liam put his arms around her protectively and they quickly reached the temporary campaign’s quarters that had been set for the rally.

Drake felt her presence before she walked in. She was beautiful in a simple red dress and light makeup, but her facial expression was gloomy, highly contrasting with Liam’s joyful one. After a few seconds, she saw him and her face softened immediately. They locked eyes with each other only for a moment but they both felt the electricity passing across the room and turned around grinning. She took her computer and went to work on the other side of the room.

“Drake, can you bring me the results of the last polls in Castelraillan?” Liam was with Olivia checking some numbers before his speech and had missed their exchange.

“Of course, here they are. They show how your numbers have increased since Hakim declared his support.” He handed him a USB and added trying to sound casual. “Do you have the speech? I have to double-check that all your facts are correct”

Liam went mute for a second. “Alexis has it. I’ll go ask her for it”

Olivia cocked her brow. “What? Do you need some extra cash, so you took a second job running errands?” She snorted “Don’t be ridiculous, Liam. We have to look at these polls before you start the rally. Drake is a big boy; he can go himself”

Drake went looking for Alexis and spotted her immediately on the other side of the room.

“Hey O’Brien. I need to check the speech.” He said with a soft smile.

Her breath hitched seeing him grinning at her. Those dimples. “Hi, Drake!” She felt like a teenager again. Her ability to form coherent sentences or look at him without blushing were both gone, so she feigned to be deeply interested in her computer. Drake pulled a chair and sat next to her.

He lowered his voice so only her could hear him. “How are you doing, Lexie?”

“I’m fine, Drake. Thank you. Talking really helped.” Her eyes were bright and grateful, and he had to actively fight his hand’s urge to touch her.

“I’m here for anything you need, baby.”

She looked fondly at him, but suddenly remembered where she was, and most importantly, where her fiancé was and cleared her throat, standing up.

“I’m going to take five minutes, but you can read the speech here on my computer.” She shot him a sad look before leaving. It was better that way.

The rally started one hour later, Liam went up on stage and people went crazy. Alexis smiled, he was a great politician, she might have written the speech, but it was him who was bringing it to life. The fact that he actually believed in what he was saying, definitely helped.

She saw the crowd cheer and applaud at the other side of the curtain.

All of a sudden, Drake stood up behind her, his musky scent immediately inebriating her. He leaned towards her and whispered in her ear.

“We didn’t finish our conversation, O’Brien.”

His warm breath and his low raspy voice in her ear made her shiver. “I don’t know what you mean, Walker”

He shot a glance towards the stage where Liam was talking about education.  Then he looked back at her. She was playing nervously with her chocolate hair, finally setting all of it on the left side of her head, leaving part of her neck uncovered.

The temptation was too great, he leaned towards her again and placed a small kiss on her nape while his fingertips gently brushed her back.

She closed her eyes savoring the brief moment, the feeling of Drake behind her was exhilarating and nerve-wracking at the same time.

Drake placed another small kiss but on her shoulder this time. Then he turned to her ear again.

“I need you, Lexie. Don’t shut me down again.”

She turned to him “Drake, I can’t do this. Please, don’t make it so hard.”

He didn’t take his eyes off of her.

Suddenly, a burst of applauses took them out of their bubble. Liam had finished his speech and was walking off the stage shaking hands and smiling widely at his followers.

“Come on, Drake. Let’s avoid another pissing contest. If Li sees you two together again, he’s going to lose it” Olivia glared at Alexis.

“Go with her, Drake. Please,” Alexis begged. 

He shook his head but left with Olivia.

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

Maxwell sighed content. He had coordinated the whole rally with Ezequiel’s help, Kiara’s brother had been very helpful. He had asked him out, but he was too in love with Rashad to accept.

He knew that he and Kiara had broken their engagement, but he hadn’t had look for him yet. Rashad was on his own path, and he had to respect that. Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the presence in front of him. He looked up and was surprised to see Rashad watching him

“Hi, Max,” He said smiling.

“Hi, Rash. How are you doing?” He grinned back.

“Fine, it’s definitely weird to be back at my ex-fiancé’s house but I’m more convinced than ever that it was the right decision. I’ve missed you.” He set his hand in Maxwell’s knee and looked him expectantly.

“Are you sure about this Rashad?” Maxwell’s eyes were full of hope “Are you ready to try something real with me? To come out for good?”

Rashad nodded “I talked to my father; he wasn’t as shocked as I would have thought. He wasn’t thrilled but he said he’ll be supportive. I think that he really, really hated Kiara, so anyone else is an upgrade for him.” He chuckled.

“Even me?” Maxwell cocked his brows inquisitively.

“You’re the most amazing man in the world, Max” Rashad pulled Maxwell’s head towards him and kissed him. “I was dying to do that”.

Maxwell smiled mischievously and took Rashad’s hand. “I’ll show you upstairs what I’m dying to do”

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The next day, Alexis was having breakfast with Liam in the main room. He wanted to make plans for their upcoming engagement party.  

Maxwell entered the room with a huge smile plastered on his face. When he saw Alexis, he took her hand forcing her to stand up, and started to spin her around the room while he sang, under Liam’s amused look.

“L is for the way you look at me

O is for the only one I see”

She cackled “Max!” He twirled her around once more before elegantly dipping her, as he finished singing.

“V is very, very extraordinary

E is even more than anyone that you adore can”

Liam laughed. “Should I be concerned about you stealing my fiancé, Max?”

He chuckled. “She’s definitely a catch, but not really my type.”

“Let me guess.” She pointed her finger at him beaming. “Rashad and you’re back together?”

Liam cocked his brows in surprise. “What? Rashad is gay? Are you and Rashad together, Max?”

Alexis laughed. “You didn’t notice all those cute little looks that they’re always throwing at each other?”

“I can be slightly oblivious sometimes.” Liam smiled sheepishly

She hugged Max. “I’m so happy for you! You’re the best friend anyone can hope for, you deserve all the happiness in the world.”

“Aww! Stop, Blossom, you’re going to make me cry and I can’t have red, puffy eyes on my first day back with Rash.” He looked pensive for a second before talking again. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to run by you. I would love to bring Rashad to your engagement party as my official date.”

“I don’t even understand why you’re asking, Max. You can come with whoever you want.” She turned to Liam.

“Of course, Max. I don’t care who you bring as long as you come.”

“Aww, guys! I love you! Group hug!” He threw his arms at both of them before leaving. “I’ll go tell Rash.”

Alexis watched him go, delighted to see him so happy. She looked at Liam who was serving her a cup of coffee and put her hand on his. “You’re a good friend, Li.”

He placed the coffee maker on the table and took her chin between his thumb and index. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, but I’m hoping that we’ll be able to take care of that with some time.” He leaned to kiss her.

“I have to run, darling. I have a lot of work to do. Will you go shopping with Max for your wedding dress?”

She shuddered but managed to give him a small smile. “Yes. We have an appointment with Ana de Luca later. That’s all I’ll be doing with my day today. It’s fascinating, isn’t it?”

He ignored the acid remark. “You’ll love her. See you later, my love.” Liam kissed her before leaving the room.

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After days of trying wedding and engagement dresses, Alexis was more than exasperated. She had never been someone who cared much about clothes and the only thing she was doing lately, was to shop.

She was even more exhausted from avoiding Drake. Every fiber of her being was pulling Alexis towards him but being close to each other was a torturous pain for both of them, so she tried to stay away from the campaign quarters as much as she could. She shuddered thinking about her engagement party. Drake would have to be there and watch her getting officially engaged with Liam. He was going to have to smile and congratulate them. She felt like screaming, the pain was getting too much to handle.

She took the keys to her car and drove to the nearest bar.

Five or six cheap whiskey glasses later, she was still sitting on a stool, incapable of moving. The moments she had spent with Drake were replaying in her head like a broken record. The day they had met, and that amazing kiss. The night stargazing or drinking whiskey in the cellar. The way he had taken care of her the night she had seen Brad again. How he had comforted when she had told him about Abigail. The conversations and the confidences they had shared. The hours spend discovering and loving each other. She missed how safe she felt with him. She craved their fights, his eyes, his kisses, his arms around her, his deep, raspy voice, his strong hands. Alexis didn’t know how she was going to do to live the rest of her life without him.  

She was getting really drunk. It would be better if she called Max to take her back to the house.

“O’Brien” The familiar, manly voice startled her.

“Drake…how-?”

“Someone recognized you and called me”. He pointed at the back of the bar where Bastien nodded at them.

“You didn’t have to come, I was going to call Max.”

He sat on the stool beside her and called the barmaid. “I’ll have the same than her.”

Then, he turned to her to stroke her face. “I’m always going to come, Lexie. Always.”

She exhaled a sad breath. “Drake, I have to marry him. I don’t want to, but I have to.”

“We have to tell him the truth, Alexis. I know him since we were kids, he’ll understand.”

She sneered. “He’ll understand that I have been lying to him for months? He’ll understand that his father and mine have been plotting behind his back? He’ll understand that he loves me but I’m ... I’m …” She ran her hand through her hair desperately.

“You what, Alexis?” He lowered his head to meet her eyes. “You what?” He cupped her face making her face him “Tell me, you what!”

“I love you, okay?! I love yo- “

He crashed his mouth with hers stroking her face with his thumbs. It was hungry, desperate. It was soft and hot and breathy,  and passionate. The heat rose in their cheeks as their tongues intertwined and they had to come out for air, breathless and giddy.  

He held her head so her forehead would rest on his “I love you too, Alexis. I love you so fucking much it actually hurts. I never thought I would be the kind of guy who would tell a girl he’s crazy about her, but here I am, mad about you.” He sighed. “Insane about you.”

Her heart was beating faster and faster. Her head kept telling her that it was a mistake but the pull to him was stronger and she kissed him over and over until they needed to come out for air again.

After a while, she came to her senses.

Her eyes watered looking at him. “The reason Liam is acting controlling and possessive is that he’s feeling insecure. And he’s right. I love you. You are the love of my life, Drake.” Drake listened to her as he softly rubbed her face. “So I can’t really blame him for acting the way he is. I know he would never hurt me. I know he loves me. But even if I tell him the truth, I have to marry him.” She took a sharp breath. “If I’m honest with him there’s two possibilities. Either he calls off the wedding and Abigail will be in danger. Or he’ll agree to marry me to help me but he will be heartbroken.” She stroked Drake’s cheek too. “Telling Liam doesn’t solve the problem; we would only break his heart even more. The only solution is to accept things as they are, Drake. I’m sorry.”  

He stared angrily at her “So that’s it? I love you, Drake but I’ll be marrying Liam in three weeks. You’re not even going to fight?”

“Don’t be unfair, Drake you know there’s nothing I can do.” Tears were falling off her cheeks as she spoke “Please, leave. I’ll call Maxwell”

She gestured the barmaid for another whiskey.

Drake stood up and turned her stool towards him, so she would be facing him. He leaned towards her taking her chin with his fingers “I would never leave, Lexie. Never. I don’t care if you marry him. I don’t care if I have to wait for the rest of my life to be with you. I won’t leave. As you long as you need me, I’ll be right here.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Even if we can only be friends?”

“Even then.” Drake returned her sad smile. “You can always count on me, baby.” He put a strand hair behind her ear, before kissing her forehead. “Now, let’s get you out of here before you drink their whole lot of whiskey”

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

Three days later, Liam was getting ready for his engagement party. He put his tuxedo on and looked in the mirror. He felt nervous, he was completely in love with Alexis, but he couldn’t help but feel uncertain. He kept on trying but she seemed unattainable, always kind, and gentle but never really there with him. Liam shook his head putting those thoughts aside, they were getting married in three weeks and, then, she will be his. There was nothing to be afraid of.

Liam had arranged one limousine for the five of them so they would arrive together like a solid family. He had invited Leo to come with them too, but he said he would arrive a little later, surely drunk and with some random woman. It was exasperating but he couldn’t take care of that now.

When the car pulled over at the O’Brien’s mansion and Alexis came out, Liam grinned. She was gorgeous. He offered her his arm and took her to the limousine, with George behind them.

Constantine and Regina were already inside waiting for them with a cold champagne bottle.

Alexis sighed. Perfect! The man with no heart and the wicked witch of the east.

George spoke with a content expression on his face. “Well, we’re close to Election’s day and we’re almost sure that we will win. We should toast to that”

“A glass of champagne, dear?” Regina questioned.

She smiled politely.“Yes, Regina. Thank you” And keep them coming.

After clinking their glasses, Constantine turned to Liam “Are you ready, son? All Cordonia’s press will be there, you’ll have to give interviews and take some pictures” He paused to focus on Alexis “We all know how much you hate that dear, but you’ll have to do it tonight. Do we understand each other?”

She stared at him contemptuously. “I’m more than capable to answer some questions, Constantine but thank you so much for your concern.”

Liam grabbed her hand “Please, father. Alexis doesn’t need you to tell her what to do.” He turned to her. “By the way love, you look beautiful”

She looked at him gratefully. “Thanks, Li. You look very handsome too.”

The limousine parked at the venue chosen by Regina. Liam squeezed Alexis’s hand.

“Let’s do this”

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

Maxwell had everything ready. He had planned the party with Regina, after a few days, it had become clear that Alexis wasn’t at all interested in the party, or in the engagement.

He had greeted most guests and was only waiting for them. When they finally arrived, he instructed them on how to make their entrance. George came down the stairs first, then Regina and Constantine, and finally, in the middle of a round of applause, Liam, the candidate, and Alexis.

Drake was at the other end of the room with a glass of whiskey in his hand. His heart raced at the sight of her. She was breathtaking with a red strapless dress that brought attention to her breasts. It was tight, and had a long skirt with a slit that gave a tantalizing view of her tanned, long leg as she descended; her big eyes and crimson lips were framed by her shiny brown hair. She was a vision, A gorgeous vision. His mouth went dry instantly, he knew that his promise of being only his friend will be very difficult to keep.

His fist clenched seeing Liam put his arms around her and kiss her in front of everyone. In front of him. He felt like punching someone, and seeing George next to them, he knew exactly who. The rage didn’t let him see the brunette sitting next to him.

“Salut, Drake. Ca va? (2)” Kiara asked seductively.

“I have told you a thousand times how annoying it is when you switch languages like that Kiara. Pick fucking one and stick with it. It’s called commitment.”

She giggled. “I love how direct you are.” She placed her hand on his thigh “I really really love it” She started to rub his thigh, but he grabbed her hand.

“Well, I’m happy you appreciate my bluntness, you’re going to love this, I need some time alone, Kiara. Have a good night.” He turned towards the bar and asked for another whiskey.

Alexis didn’t miss anything about their exchange, her blood boiled when she saw Kiara place her hand on his thigh but smiled to herself when she saw Drake take it off. 

Liam hugged her from behind.

“How are you doing, love?”

“I would love another glass of champagne, Li,” she answered.

He signaled the waiter to come and serve them. He clinked his glass with her and kiss her on the cheek “You won’t believe how happy I’m tonight, not only I’m way ahead in the polls, but I have In my arms the most beautiful woman in the room.”

Olivia huffed. She had a thousand things to coordinate and Drake wasn’t of any help getting wasted on the bar. Of course, she understood him, even if she still loved Liam, her feelings weren’t as raw as Drakes’ and she had had years of training.  

She approached the happy couple seething, she would love to know Alexis’s intentions. It was obvious how crazily in love with Drake she was. Was she marrying Liam only for his position? Olivia had to find out.

“You have to come and talk to Francesco, the Italian’s ambassador, Liam” She shot an angry look at Alexis. “And your father is looking for you.”

Alexis seemed surprised. “What for?”

Olivia arched her brow “Do I look like your fucking secretary or do you need glasses?”

“Olivia, please,” Liam scolded her.

Alexis was about to answer with a snarky remark but when she saw Olivia’s eyes, she recognized the pain. Olivia was hurting as much as she was but for a different man.

“It’s fine, Li. I’m going to go look for my father. See you later.” 

Liam took her hand and pulled her body towards him to kiss her “See you soon my love.”

Drake stood up furious after seeing the kiss. After all the whiskey he had had to drink the only thing he cared about was talking to her. He saw her walk away from Liam and Olivia and enter the hall, he tried to pass the couples dancing in the dance-floor as fast as he could but when he was about to go out, Max called him.

Alexis reached the hall. Her father was waiting for her with an envelope in his hand. “What does this mean, Alexis?”

George threw the envelope at her. When she opened it she saw a few pictures of her from a week ago, from the night she had told Drake about Abigail. They were hugging and kissing in the photos.

“Did you have me followed? How dare you!” Alexis was furious.

George took a step towards her. “How I dare? Me?” He grabbed her arm “You’re behaving like a whore but you think that it’s me who have to explain myself to you?” He yanked her arm.

“LET.HER.GO” Drake growled. 

George laughed but freed her arm. “Prince Charming himself” He snickered. “Well, his best friend. This is a family matter, Walker. Leave.”

Drake ignored the ambassador. “Are you ok, Lexie?”

She knew Drake and she had to avoid a fight at all costs. “It’s fine, Drake. I’m fine. Really.”

“Good, baby. Go back inside.” He rolled his sleeves.

She didn’t move “Drake, please.”

Everything happened so fast that George didn’t have the time to react before he felt Drake’s fist connect with his jaw.

“You’re nothing but a piece of crap.” Drake grabbed him by his shoulder and gave him one, two, three punches in his stomach.

“You shouldn’t even be allowed to live, you piece of crap.” He slammed him against the wall. George was trying to defend himself, but the younger man was stronger and faster. “What asshole? If it’s not a defenseless woman you can’t fight?”

“Drake! Stop!” The music in the party was too loud but Maxwell and Rashad were close to the door and they had seen Drake beating the Ambassador. They both took him by his arms, using all their strength to pull him apart from George.

Drake tried to free himself. “Let me go! I‘m going to kill this motherfucker!”

George sat at the floor seething with fury. “You’ll pay for this Walker. I swear” He turned to Alexis. “Tell Constantine that I wasn’t feeling good. And you better keep your promise with Liam. Unless you prefer this filthy asshole to Abigail.”

Drake screamed at him. “Don’t you dare to threaten her”

Rashad got himself in the middle. “Come on, Drake. Let him go”

George stood up and limped away from them. 

Drake looked at Alexis. Maxwell grabbed Rashad’s shoulder. “They need to talk, Rash. Let’s go back to the ballroom.”

Alexis was beyond furious. “Why!? Why do you have to do that!? Now he’ll have something against you too. I’m not only going to be worried about Abbie. I’ll be worried sick about you too, Drake.” Her eyes watered.

He cut the distance between them, there was nothing worst for him than seeing her crying. He cupped her face and cleaned her tears with his thumbs. “I can’t let it go, baby. I told you, no one would never put a finger on you, again. After the way he’s treated you he deserved that and much more. You know that.”

“I don’t fucking care about him, Drake. You don’t know how he is, what he’s capable of.” Alexis sobbed, terrified. “I can’t lose you.” 

“He’s threatening his own daughter, Lexie. Believe me, I can imagine what he’s capable of. And I told you the other night, you will never lose me. I swear.” He kissed her lips tenderly.

She smiled through her tears, noticing his bloody knuckles. “Let’s go put some cold water on that”

Maxwell came out of the ballroom with a wet cloth. “I brought this for your hands, Drake. Lex, Liam is looking for you, he’s giving his engagement speech. You better come in first and alone” He threw an apologetic look at Drake.

Liam smiled as soon as he saw her coming through the door.

“There you are, love. Where’s your father? I wanted to give my speech now.”

“He wasn’t feeling well, Li. He won’t come back tonight so you can give the speech now.”

Liam looked at her suspiciously but didn’t reply.

He went to the top of the stairs with her. Maxwell nodded at the band on stage, so they’d announce Liam’s speech.

“Alexis and I are delighted, thrilled and honored to share our intentions for the rest of our days with you. Standing together in front of all the very special people in our lives to announce our engagement makes our private dreams public and, in a way, real. Thank you for being here, for your love and well wishes-”

Suddenly, the buzzing and noise of telephones beeping were all they could hear, but Liam made an attempt to ignore them.

“Alexis has made me the happiest man in the world. With her, by my side, I understand what the writer Francis Scott Fitzgerald meant when he said, ‘I love her, and that’s the beginning and end of everything.’-”

He stopped talking, everyone had their eyes glued either on their phone or on Alexis. She searched Drake, he was seething looking at his phone too.

Finally, among a trail of whispers and gasps, Alexis and Liam reached Drake and Maxwell and grabbed their phones. Alexis saw her world collapsing when she read the article. It was entitled “An Affair to Remember” and was illustrated by some very suggestive photos of her and Tariq the night of her attack.

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

In a corner of the ballroom, Leo Rhys smiled. Hakim’s plan was working perfectly.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Kiara: 

Please honey, You were really angry (...)

Hi! How is it going?

[nightklok]

chickles for 2? or toki for 3 if someone asked for chickles already :3

Fandom Memes [open!] (shout out to firefox for crashing and making me rewrite this like twice-so i continued to add more to this because why not)

When I started shipping them: Oh this is actually a funny story- I can’t quite remember when I started shipping them but according to AO3, I read a chickles fanfic in November 2019 (the only one i didn’t reread because im sure there were others i read too) and that was around when I began starting the show. But around that time, I SWEAR when I looked at Charles wiki, there was some line there that was along the lines of  ‘Charles and Pickles had slept together sometime before Dethklok. while pickles doesn’t remember it, charles does’ I don’t even know if it was possibly a fever dream, mixing up a fanfic as canon, or I just happened to scroll through it when someone threw the line in BUT I CONSIDERED IT CANON and I lowkey waited for that scene as I remembered it on/off and it didn’t take until April 2020 when I finally finished the show to realize that it wasn’t canon D: so thanks to fanfics and probably misreading something in November-december 2019 that’s when I shipped them :D (Also if anyone knows where I may have gotten this from pls link me)

My thoughts: I love them!! They’ve made me happy shipping them and they’re just a good and wholesome ship to me! I think it has everything I could ever want in a ship; the angsty and sad moments but also the happy ones- I don’t know how I can articulate just how much they clicked with me but they really did! They’re like the ultimate band parents,

What makes me happy about them: I think I love how they can bring something in each other that they normally wouldn’t be able to do themselves. I headcanon Pickles as someone with ADHD (and aries because hi im an aries with ADHD) and I think Charles would be able to help calm him down and keep him focused or at least stimulated when he needs to be. Being with Charles can help him be a bit controlled (Though sometimes not by much when he wants to be a tease haha). I love the idea too of Pickles being able to bring Charles to have a more exciting day or just being able to help break routine a bit. Pickles sometimes likes to do things on the spur of the night just to keep himself entertained and Charles prefers to keep things in a schedule. They would find a compromise where Charles clears out a day and Pickles just takes him somewhere random. Is it a concert? Forest? Amusement park? Half the fun’s in not knowing! But Charles enjoys that he can be a bit looser and actually get to laugh and smile and just be having the time of his life with him-

What makes me sad about them: I think Doomstar/Post-doomstar and even the events between season 2 and 3 makes me sad, it breaks my heart in two just thinking about it. Pickles...would be so fucking devastated  when Charles died, especially if we go by if they met during Snakes N’ Barrels and he may have never gotten a chance to confess his feelings (or he did for more sadness) and Post-doomstar? He probably ends up blaming Charles leaving on himself and- though depending on where we’re thinking of the possibility of the timeline of their relationship, Going Downklok may have wrecked their relationship because alternatively, Pickles may not have flirted with Abigail but probably something else caused them to break up or destroy their relationship. There was a lot of tension/build up in that episode so I guess their build up and eventual burst would be feelings having to resurface, possibly Pickles getting too far in his addictions and Charles still revealing nothing about what happened during his absence or why he came back; so then you get  the dinner scene and it was the straw that broke the camel’s back to get him to quit and then all the events unfold and Pickles just blames himself so heavily on it  oh god i need to WRITE THIS

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: I don’t think there’s anything in fanfic that annoys me when people write them- It’s more of being uncomfortable/disturbed?...there were a few fics I came across where Charles was borderline abusive/overly sadistic (and one where I wish I hadn’t read-) that left a bad taste in my mouth after reading it. I just feel like that’s way too OOC and Charles definitely isn’t the type of person to be an abusive asshole and/or would definitely know the boundaries of being sadistic in the bedroom while still making sure his partner is into it/feels safe. But i guess that kinda goes in general for any Charles/character fics- 

Things I look for in fanfic: I think them being in character, an interesting plot line, and just it being well written is all i can ask for haha-I honestly love any Chickles fanfic out there; I think the things I look for in particular are either his reactions to seeing Charles when he comes back or anything post doomstar but also implying that they met during Snakes N Barrels help

My wishlist:

I guess I’m just gonna shove in things I hope to write actually- (screaming at me to write particular fics helps motivate me so go @ it-)

A Star reader AU: this actually would be the one of the first (probs second or third) Chickles fic I had ever written as I had drafted it around ago even though I had initially planned for the Chickles to kinda be hinted at but with what I know now, would make it more prevalent. If anyone has read Blood Red Road by Moira Young you might see where I’m going but basically, there was a character who was able to read the stars and predict the future. (if you’re hoping the novel goes more into that i’m sorry-) So if we make Charles one of those people, then probably adds more depth to why he chose to work with Dethklok right? :D  Secret singer fic: I AM writing that one!! I just got sidetracked but God I’m gonna get back to it as soon as I can!! Basically for anyone else reading this, Charles and his friends put up a bet to see how difficult (or easy) it would be for Charles to become internet famous by having him post covers/original songs under an anonymous name. It becomes a chaotic mess when he gets more than he bargained for and does end up gaining some popularity, someone on the internet spreads the rumor the singer is someone famous, and a particular someone came across those songs and finds the lyrics almost a little too relatable. That fic where instead of Pickles being happy that Charles is back from the dead and they can live happily ever after, he becomes incredibly distressed and heartbroken because he ends up suffering major trauma. because seeing your bf ‘die’ all bloodied and mangled and coming back with only a scar and secrets he won’t tell you? That’s definitely years worth of therapy right there. That is like the only fic of this list even remotely close to finishing but God, definitely one of the most difficult to write- Fics where they met before/during Snakes N’ Barrels. I need to write one or two fics on that because I consider it canon. I’m sure I have mentioned drafting one or two fics like that?? Gotta look through my evernotes-

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: I’m sorry but no my mind refuses to delve further- And i mean I’ve been digging Magnus/Charles lately and we all know how that wouldn’t last either so they’re meant for each other fjkdsfjlk

My happily ever after for them: The boys defeat Salacia, Charles and Pickles reunite and kiss for the first time in such a long time. They’re finally happy together and get to officially date (or continue where they left off). Charles is able to retire as the priest as his work is completed (or he manages to get it more public considering they saved the world so most likely it’d be a recognized religion) They get married, and when Dethklok officially retires, they buy a few houses, maybe even do music projects together or Charles takes over Crystal Mountain Records actually and Pickles helps out by being one of the music producers, they adopt a cat or dog or both, and just be happy with each other :D

[redeadepression]

Hcs; What if Abigail got pregnant again in the epilogue? unplanned (but aren't they always back then xD) how do you think they would take it? Would they be happy?

~~~

It’s always bittersweet writing headcanons like this because obviously Abigail DID get pregnant after the Epilogue and we all know how that ended for the Marstons. It’s really heartbreaking in a way because I do honestly believe that would have been really, truly happy about it.

~~~

John hints in the Epilogue that he’s clucky

I think he would have brought it up once or twice

The idea of having more kids

Abigail would have smiled and nodded

Thinking it was sweet he wanted them

But I believe she never actually intended to have any more children

Their child is almost grown

She’s done the hard yards

They are both in their 30s and life expectancy back then was... not great

So when Abigail realises she’s missed her period she holds off on the celebrations

She hopes she’s going through ‘the change’ really early

Although deep down she knows that it would be really, really early

The better explanation being she’s pregnant

When she starts to feel the sickness she waves it off as a common cold

John is worried about her 

Especially when she starts throwing up excessively 

Not eating as much

He wasn’t really around much to see how her first pregnancy progressed

So it doesn’t even cross his mind she could be with child

He honestly thinks she’s just really sick and he has bad anxiety about her health

She’s his rock

She runs the place

How the hell is he supposed to cope if she was to die

It isn’t until Jack starts to get worried too that Abigail starts to work through her denial

John insists on taking her to the doctor and she lets him

The doctor confirms the pregnancy

Abigail has no choice but to tell John

She refuses to talk about it on the way back to Beecher’s Hope

John is now utterly convinced she’s dying

He confronts her later that night saying they have to talk about it

They are not at all on the same page

Abigail thinks he’s figured it out

John still thinks she’s dying

Poor bastard

Abigail starts babbling about how they were so careful and what does this mean for them

How are they going to afford it

John is so confused

Abigail tells him flat out

“I’m pregnant, you idiot.”

John is gobsmacked

He starts to tear up and it’s Abigail’s turn to be confused

It’s his turn to babble

Going on about how he thought she was dying and how could he go on without her

He’s just so happy she’s okay

Why didn’t she tell him

He can’t stop grinning through his tears

He’s gonna be a Daddy

Again

He’s getting his second chance

The one he’s hoped for since Jack was a toddler

He’s going to do everything right this time

He absolutely dotes on Abigail

Not letting her lift a finger despite her arguing she’s able to

She’s not allowed near the horses

She goes a little stir-crazy being stuck at the ranch

John even tries to cook to give her a break

He is fascinated by her growing tummy

Super excited to feel the first kicks

He will ride all over the country to find her whatever she’s craving

Abigail thinks it’s super sweet how excited he is

He makes all the baby furniture himself

With Uncles help

Jack helps him paint it

They all gush over which gender the baby will be

Abigail’s hoping for another boy

Because it’s all she knows

John wants a girl

When it comes time for labour John is more of a wreck than Abi

He insists on being there for the birth

Even though it’s custom for the men to wait outside

Abigail shoos him away

She doesn’t want him seeing her like this

But he sneaks back in while she’s pushing and she doesn’t complain when he slips an encouraging hand in to hers

John holds the baby first while Abigail is being tended to

He can’t stop crying

Gushing about how beautiful SHE is

He holds her tight and rocks her and coos

Abigail would be absolutely smitten with him if she was conscious enough to notice

Once she’s rested and the baby has been fed they invite Jack and Uncle in to meet her

They immediately mesh as a family of 4 (5 if you include Uncle)

Jack adores her

Together they decide on a name as a family

Grace

John calls her Gracie

He is the Father he wished he could go back and be to Jack

He is loving, paternal, doting

Honestly jealous he can’t bond with her in the way Abigail can due to breast feeding

He still manages to bond with her in ways he never did with Jack

She follows him everywhere once she can walk

Talks constantly and John listens readily

The Marstons feel like they were missing something all these years and now they are complete

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

Just don’t think about what happens next OKAY. I know a lot of people HC the Marston daughter died as a baby but I HC she died as a toddler or small child. Both are equally heartbreaking. I like to think they got to spend a few good years with her before she passes. Not that anyone asked but I also believe she passed due to sickness that everyone else was strong/grown enough to survive.

[dreamdaddydutch]

Can you do Javier falling in love with his s/o who's bronte daughter and thanking her virginity

I’m really sorry this has taken me forever to write/post, life has really gotten in the way recently. I’m not sure if you wanted just head-canons or something short, but this ended up super long, one of the longest things i’ve written for this fandom… I enjoyed writing it but also found it quite challenging as I imagine Javier as someone who would only be intimate with someone he had gotten to know, become friends with and trusted. Which is why this ended up so long! Also I deviate a little from events in the game and add characters in places they were not for the sake of the story. I’m not a 100% happy with it, but I hope you enjoy! 

Warnings: Angst, Death & Smut (not a lot)  Word Count: 6,052

The first time he’d met her he should have known she’d be trouble, there was just something about her.It was in the way she surveyed the saloon and navigated her way through it, her movements weren’t natural. It was like watching a fawn walk for the first time, all springy legs with no direction.

Javier was a little drunk, not so drunk that he wasn’t aware of what was going on, but drunk enough that he let his guard down just a little. 

She made eye contact with Javier from across the bar, he looked behind him, unsure if her eyes were meant for him. When he awkwardly pointed at himself, she giggled.

She sat at their table with no idea who they were, chatting away, a head full of ideas.

Javier had his reservations, he wouldn’t let just anyone in to his life, he had a close circle in a few particular members of the van der Linde gang. Generally speaking outside of that he didn’t allow himself to get close to anyone, and aside from Abigail in the early days, he hadn’t allowed any form of relationship to blossom with any man or woman. 

So when he first met Marie he’d gotten to know her slowly, over a course of a number of months before he really let her know him. Meeting up in secret at saloons or taking her fishing. They were just friends, he established that from the start, was ever cautious not to let her in too much. There was a certain degree of pride in his actions for sure, he had to get to know her slowly and build up trust.

Even when he was certain she could be trusted and that they had a chance at a future together, he did little more than kiss her. He had learnt back in Mexico how easily trust could be misplaced and how quickly a relationship could go from perfection to in tatters. 

The first kiss had been…nice but almost strange to him, the woman he was kissing clearly didn’t have much experience. Maybe on reflection he thought this should have been a sign, for someone of her age he found it strange she’d never been in love when younger or made a mistake like so many others. But he pushed those fears to the back of his mind, maybe it was her upbringing that had made her so cautious, not a bad thing he mused. 

So after the first kiss, they continued to take it slow. The lack of sex or any sexual contact wasn’t an issue for him, rather he enjoyed the close company of another without those expectations and being able to get to know someone without it being driven by lust. 

She spoke of her family, how her father was a doctor but had died some years ago and that her mother had died during childbirth when her little brother was born. She’d told him how she believed that was what killed her father in the end, the irony that in being a great doctor, he was unable to save his own wife, the woman whom was the love of his life.

Tragic really, the situation had broken Marie’s heart, her siblings had moved away, she still saw them once or twice a year, taking it in turns to travel across states. Aside from that, she worked cleaning a shop and as a seamstress, mostly mending clothes.

As Javier and Marie spent most of their time together in evenings or odd days, he never saw her at work, he never met her siblings. But months later, in the aftermath of what was about to happen, he cursed himself for being so easily drawn her, for being gullible, for not asking more questions. There were things which when he really thought about it, didn’t add up. He cursed himself for not being more cautious of her in light of what happened to him previously. 

But Marie was a good liar, he consoled himself with that at least, he had been careful and slow. He had made sure they were friends before lovers, he had done everything he believed he could to avoid being betrayed again, and yet it had happened so easily. 

It was after seven months of friendship, occasional lasting kisses and lingering hugs under the stars that Marie opened up to him.

“There’s something you should know about me.” When she spoke the words she hadn’t been thinking about the repercussions, she hadn’t really thought about the meaning behind her words. She had thought so long about how she would approach the subject, but like most things, it just happened.

Javier looked up from the book he was reading, “Something interesting?” He asked coyly.

She smiled, “I think so, though,” the tremble of her lips was unmistakable. 

Javier placed the book down on the bedside and scooted closer to her, his head cocked to the side, one hand placed reassuringly on her knee, “Hey, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s fine, we trust each other, no?”

The sigh she gave was full of years of resentment towards her real father, the one Javier knew nothing of. The father she had spoken to him about, was imaginary, a ghost, a dream. 

The reality couldn’t have been further from the tales she’d woven. All parts missing and commas in places that didn’t need them. The lies, the stories with changed endings, false hope and promises that reminded her of dying sun the day before a storm, when the water of the ocean glistens gold only to break into crushing waves capable of capsizing a ship. 

She stared at her knee, looked at the way Javier’s hand was placed so carefully on top of it, his voice ached with concern when he spoke to her, this is how he was she had leant that early on. His care was what she loved so dearly about him, though at time it was almost suffocating, how she wished she could break free from all restrain. 

“Of course I trust you and I hope you me?” 

She glanced up at him, he replied with a nod. 

That was the moment, if ever there was one, that should have been the moment when she told him the real truth, the eternal pressing matter that had been bothering her since their very first kiss. Too late she realised that the truth would have been better coming earlier, so that the path they were led down would have been different, would have meant something more.

Through the window orange sunlight beamed through, making her cheeks glow, fruitful, her love in abundance. She appeared to him like an angel then, all the potential of a future, a family, hope. 

Yes, she’d think with melancholia just a few months later, I should have told him then. 

But she didn’t, she told him the other truth, the part of her that she felt was guaranteed to make him love her more.

“I’ve never been in love before,” she stated matter of factly. Before Javier had a chance to react, she continued, “I’ve never been in love and that means that I’ve never, I mean I know sometimes when people aren’t in love, sometimes people who’ve only just met do it. But I guess what I’m trying to tell you is…” She took a deep breath, “I’m a virgin.”

Javier’s hands took hers in his own, he was wordless, letting his actions do the talking. His fingers laced with hers, squeezed her reassuringly. The smile that he wore wasn’t one of glee, like a lion about to pounce on it’s prey, it wasn’t the cat who got the cream, that could never have been him. 

“I did wonder,” he said before nuzzling into her neck, “Thank you for telling me,” he kissed her softly right on her pulse. 

She swallowed hard, “Is that okay?”

He pulled away so he could look at her, “Okay? Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

She shrugged, “I’m 25 and I’ve never been with a man, despite my age, I’m worried my inexperience will make me seem like a child to you and I want so badly to be a woman for you, for you to be proud of me.”

“Hermosa, will you just listen to yourself?” He spoke in earnest. “You are the most incredible woman, you are smart, witty, you have a head full of beautiful ideas and dreams and you’re not afraid of the world. You stand up for yourself, you are every part the woman you are describing that you want to be there, but you already are.”

“We don’t have to rush anything okay? You take your time, as long as it takes.”

She smiled back at him, “You mean it?”

“Of course.”

“Did you ever wonder?”

“Well…we’ve been together for some time now so I was starting to wonder but hey I would never want to rush you.” He paused for a moment, wondering whether to confess to her more of his past, he decided in light of her confession that she could be trusted. “I’ve only been in love once, she betrayed me, broke my heart. It was a long time ago now, but it’s still with me you know? So no matter how slow we take this, it’s good for me.”

It didn’t take them much longer to make the decision to join as one, Javier was patient and expected nothing from her. But Marie, now with her heart opened, wanted them to sleep together as soon as possible.

She wondered, years later as she watched her own children play in the large garden her and her husband tended so lovingly too. She wondered whether a part of her wanted Javier to take her virginity as soon as possible, because she was old fashioned. Because in her naive mind she believed that no matter what happened or what truth came to light afterwards, as he had taken her innocence he would stay with her. She’d hoped if she fell pregnant he would have to marry her and she could steal him away from the gang. 

It wasn’t Javier’s fault that it didn’t play out that way. Her father had lectured her on trust, most of what he taught her she wanted to forget, it was easy to disregard it and throw it away into the sands of time. 

She told him after dinner one night that she was ready, he nodded in reply and made plans for a night in a hotel, there was no way he was going to have her first time back at the camp with the others.

Not that they would mind, she’d met with the gang numerous times, joined in with some of their celebrations and singing. She got on with the girls, even Molly. Dutch found her amusing and she found herself able to listen to Hosea talk for hours about the old days. Some of the other gang members were a little more cautious of her and Dutch especially, despite enjoying her company, would constantly pester Javier into asking her to join the gang officially. It was safer that way. 

As she wasn’t officially a member of the gang, the others were always careful what to tell her, that included Javier. She knew little of their plans and schemes, of their past or their enemies. Javier told her just enough to keep her safe and stop her asking questions, but until she moved in with them, there would never be more to it. 

The first time they slept together the sex was slow, she’d been terrified of other’s first time stories, mostly wives tales she imagined. But it had been wonderful and intimate and there was barely any pain.

Javier kissed her neck, his hands running simultaneously through her hair, pulling just the right amount. Her body bended to meet his, her heart fluttered and cheeks flushed. She found herself grinding against him without realising what she was doing. She moaned his name in a way that sounded as if she were speaking in tongues.

Their hips rolled in unison, kisses so brief and fleeting that for a moment she struggled to tell if they were real.

She loved the taste of him, the way his tongue explored her mouth, the taste of cigarettes and whiskey. Hot breaths into her ear, the way when something didn’t quite go as planned, rather than getting angry or aggressive he would laugh and shrug it off. 

Yes, she loved the way he first took her, the care he took with kissing every part of her body, even the scars she considered to be so ugly that her father had left when she was younger. He worshipped her, removed each item of clothing slowly as if it was sacred. 

She watched him both in front of her and in the mirror, witnessed the care, the unrelenting kindness that flowed through him.

When her legs parted for him the first time there was a flash of hunger across his face but it soon melted away. His kisses were warm, needy. Her cheeks burnt brightly the first time he tasted her, but the shame disappeared when she allowed her body to enjoy it. 

He looked up at her, watching her reaction as he lapped at her core, his tongue working magic and the way he sheathed his fingers inside her slowly scissoring and preparing her for his large member. 

He made sure she came before they had sex, he wanted her to be washed with pleasure and glowing when he laid on top of her. As her body trembled and shook under him, he smiled, satisfied with a job well done. 

When he slid into her for the first time, it wasn’t how she had imagined it would be. She felt full, complete for the first time in her life, he stayed inside her for a minute without moving. She took the time to adjust to his size, to feel his weight on top of her pushing her down.

He covered her with kisses warm and inviting, and when he started to slide in and out of her, she was soon breathless, torn constantly between wanting to shut her eyes because it felt so good, and wanting them open to watch him at work. 

They barely spoke during sex, the room instead filling deliciously with their moans of pleasure and cries as they came. 

It was a month after they first slept together, and Marie was starting to feel like something was going to ruin the peace she had found herself in. Javier wanted to see more of her and now had started to pressure her into moving into the gang. 

By now she had learnt that her father had gotten to know Dutch van der Linde, what she didn’t know so something so horrific she was unable to prepare for it. 

There was a light coming from her father’s study, shadows inside of someone moving and then she heard it. The noise pierced through her heart, though not the sound of arguing or screaming. There was no struggle, it was the sound of a child’s laughter. 

There had been no children in her father’s mansion for a long time. Somehow she knew, she knew before she pushed open the door to reveal the horror within. The boy, though she had never seen a photo of him, she was certain, it had to be the van der Linde boy.

“Father…” she spoke softly as she entered the room.

There he was, Jack, happy as anything, playing with a toy train. 

“Ahhh Marie, let me introduce you to Jack, he’s going to live here for a short while, on a sort of…holiday. Isn’t that right Jack?”

Jack nodded and beamed up at Marie. When her father looked down at Jack, Marie used that opportunity to shake her head at Jack and placed a finger to her lips. Thankfully, Jack took the hint and said nothing to her father regarding how he knew her. 

When she didn’t respond her father appeared curious, “What’s wrong, you appear to have seen a ghost?”

She pulled a fake smile and shook her head, “Nothing papa, I ate too much at dinner and drank a little too much too,” he smiled at her, “You know how you always joke I take after you.”

Her father laughed and patted Jack on the back.

“Goodnight Jack, goodnight father,” she pressed a kiss to Bronte’s cheek and left instantly. 

In the safety of her room she locked her door and put her back to it, slowly sinking to the floor as sobs ripped through her. Oh no. It was ruined, it had to be, any day now then the perfect sequence of lies by her careful design would come falling apart from under her. 

She had to tell Javier, perhaps if she told him she could find a way to make things right, to return Jack and build a peace treaty between the two groups. Maybe. But the fear gripped her, she recalled how Javier had explained Dutch’s reactions of late, how unforgiving he had been. No, if she told him the truth there was a chance she would loose both her father and Javier after all. 

Though she knew if the gang got Jack back then… she had to pray they didn’t, what kind of monster did that make her?

So whilst staring at the moon wistfully and asking her guidance she made the decision, she wouldn’t say a word. She had been living the lies long enough to keep up with them, that was what she had to do. It was a life she had built for herself now, she had to commit. 

That night she barely slept, the weight of what she had learnt weighing heavy on her shoulders. Tears fell into her pillow as she wept silently, counting now the inevitable days until she lost him. 

Days, that was all it took for the dream to end. And when it ended, it was abruptly, violently, not with fireworks and wistful promises, but with regret.  

Marie’s father had sent Jack to the Braithwaite Manor, since then she hadn’t seen Javier. Marie was no fool, she knew why. Once the gang got him back, Jack would have undoubtedly have told Javier that he had seen her. Her stomach twisted in knots and she found she was unable to keep her food down. 

All she could do was wait for Dutch and the gang to storm her father’s mansion as they had the Braithwaite place.

She heard the commotion outside, she knew what was happening without looking, so she sat by the fireplace, whiskey in one hand, book in another. They were just props to make her appear calmer than she was on the inside. She knew this would be the end of her relationship and potentially the night of the death of her father. Again, she was no fool, but fool enough to believe there was a world where this could have worked. 

Numbness washed over her like the tide over dried out pebbles, as she heard the door crash open and the rain of gunfire begin. 

When Javier came into the room she was sat in, accompanied by John, her blood ran cold, there was nothing she could say to make it better. The tears that stained her one perfect cheeks, spoke a thousand words. 

Javier stared at Marie, wordless for a moment. Despite what Jack had told him and her sudden disappearance from his life, he hadn’t quite believed it, not until now. How could he have been so stupid? He always took care not to allow anyone too close to him until he really got to know them and yet he’d let her in, believed the lies she had fed him. They had been so convincing and it had felt so real. 

“Come on,” John urged Javier, emotionless with his words. 

Javier was still frozen, it was only when John pulled at his arm he snapped out of the moment, “We need to talk,” was all he said before leaving with John.

As the gunfire continued Marie sat and drank the whiskey slowly, she could have run away then, could have taken some of her father’s money and expensive belongings and started again. But she figured she at least owed Javier an explanation.

Some time passed before the door opened again, Javier was alone, “Merida,” he muttered under his breath as he entered, closing the door behind him. 

She swallowed any words that were forming in her mind, her palms felt sweaty as she carried them in front of her.

“Javier I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I….” she tried to hold back the sob, “I didn’t want you to see me like this, I wanted to be someone else.”

“You put yourself in danger, you put us in danger! What he did to Jack!” Javier wasn’t shouting, he didn’t have the energy for that, he was just broken, his words cutting and to the point.

Marie got up from the seat she was in and closed the gap between them, spinning Javier on the spot and pushing him back a little towards the armchair. Her lips pressed into his catching him off guard and how hard he found it to pull away.

His hands gripped her upper arms and he pushed her back, sighing as the kiss broke. 

 “If you want to walk away I understand,” she said.

Javier was at a loss for words, the way she was talking was as if she hadn’t really considered the implications of her actions. She was reducing it to them staying together and living happily ever after or him just walking away, he wasn’t even sure he detected any real remorse in her voice. 

When he didn’t respond she started to plead, “Take me with you.” She gripped his hands tightly like a snake’s jaws round it’s prey, unwilling or unable to unlock. 

Javier shook his head in disbelief and took a step back, though his hands still clasped hers, it was at a distance. He promised himself before they rode to the mansion that he wouldn’t cry in front of her, that he wouldn’t allow himself to be exposed. But hearing the crack in her voice, was making it difficult. 

“Dutch won’t allow this you know that.”

“But I…. I love you,” the words fell so readily from her lips. The first time she set eyes on him she hadn’t planned on falling in love, she’d just hoped for a little adventure, excitement, for a man to teach her the ways of the adult world.

Javier sighed pulling his hands from hers, her arms fell to her side, “I’m sorry, I can’t do this right now, I need space,” he walked past her, shoulder brushing shoulder.

“Javier please!” She begged.

How it stung him then, he’d been caught out by this before back in Mexico, had promised himself he would never fall hard again and yet here he was a partner to self-indulgence and narcissistic hopes, dancing the same dance that had him falling flat on his feet.

“Please don’t leave me!” She pulled at his sleeve, falling to her knees by his side. 

He turned, head over his shoulder looking down at her and tugged his sleeve away from her grip. He had tried to be nice, tried to express his need for time to process what had happened, but she wasn’t making it easy, “You lied to me!” His tone reeked of disbelief. 

“No…no I didn’t I.”

“You told me your father was dead, that he was a doctor.”

“His father was a doctor… my grandfather… and he is dead to me.”

Javier laughed, it wasn’t a kind laugh with any warmth, he beat his fists into a cushion and turned back to her, “You could have ruined everything.”

She stood up weeping, affronted at being told off so harshly, “Javi…”

Javier took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair, he sighed and looked back at her, “I love you, don’t you get that? I love you and would do anything I can to protect you, but how can I protect you when you won’t tell me who you are? I cannot protect you if I don’t know you.”

She sniffed and walked over to him, tentatively she reached out for him and placed a hand on his lower arm, a moment then when she recalled one of their first dates, the way he had rolled up his white sleeves and exposed his muscular lower arms. It was the first time in her life that she felt what others described as ‘butterflies’. 

“Forgive me?”

He sighed, he had already decided on their fate before she even asked the question, already knew that no matter what he would forgive her. The question was, how could he stay with her knowing what he knew now?

His fingertips traced her cheek bone, “Marie,” he couldn’t get out the other words he wanted to say, finding it overwhelmingly too painful to cope.

His hands slid round her waist and pulled her in closer, just as they were about to kiss there was a crash as the door was kicked open. Dutch, John and Micah walked in.

“Bronte’s daughter!” The fury on Dutch’s face was like something neither of them had seen before.

Dutch’s tone brought Javier back down to reality, he would forgive her, yes. He would allow her to be free, to go and live a full life, but it would have to be apart. 

“Dutch, please don’t start.” Javier urged his friend and leader, standing in between the two of them. 

“Did you know?” Dutch’s face was red with fury.

“He didn’t, I swear!” Marie said. 

Micah gave a cruel laugh, “As if we’d believe anything you say.”

“I didn’t know Dutch, do you think had I of known, I wouldn’t have said something or broken it off?” His voice strained. 

Dutch remained silent.

“Aren’t I loyal to you?” As Javier spoke the words he felt torn, he loved Marie, but he loved the gang and Dutch more, they would always come first.

Dutch sighed, he had been in difficult situations when he was younger and wasn’t completely void of emotion, “You know this has to end now?”

Javier nodded, “Yes.”

“My dear, I was fond of you,” Dutch begun, “Such a shame you couldn’t have been honest with us, for that betrayal, there is no longer a place by our or Javier’s side. Now come say goodbye to your father.”

She gulped, Javier found himself grateful for Dutch’s reaction when it could have been so much worse. 

She watched from the edge of the water, knowing with certainty that it would be the last time she saw her father. She didn’t blame Dutch or the others, how could she? He had taken Jack from them, taken a boy and whilst he had treated him well, it was a matter of principle.

She’d hugged her father goodbye, kissed his cheek, for all his wrong-doings he was still her father. He looked scared, it was the only time she’d seen him look like that and it terrified her. The dead of night had never been something that scared her as a child, but it scared her now. To see the moon reflected in her father’s wide eyes. He looked lost, confused, old, a lifetime of wrong-doings had caught up with him. Ironic though she felt that it was a group of outlaws who would be his undoing rather than lawmen. Maybe it was better that way, maybe there was more honour in dying at the hands of others who also wished to be free. 

Marie watched the others climb into the boat after her father, she watched him sit, studied every movement of his. She watched as the boat head out into the thick of the swamp, under the great   Cypress trees. She counted the ripples to steady her nerves, they went on and on and so she didn’t think of anything else as she counted.

But in the end she had to consider what was happening, so she stood, motionless as the horror unfurled in front of her, though she couldn’t clearly see in the dark of night, she heard the noises, the screams, could see the shadows in the dark, the movement underneath the water. 

A few seconds of noise and then silence, like a void had opened up in the world and sucked in all the sounds, light and oxygen. She held her breath as the boat returned, hoping it had all been to scare her father and nothing more.

When they returned without her father, she had no doubt what had happened, that’s that then, she thought. No tears came then, just a gentle, throbbing pain in her temple and an emptiness in the pit of her stomach. Her father was the one person that no matter his wrongs, made her feel like her place in the world was justified. Whilst they argued frequently, he was always there for her and now she had no one. 

Dutch, John, Micah and Arthur walked past her without a word, she doubted she would ever speak to them again. 

Javier though stopped next to her, without turning to her said, “I am sorry about your father,” then he proceeded to walk back inside the house.

She gave him a few minutes before entering the house behind him, she closed the doors, locked them and drew the curtain. When she turned back she finally appreciated just how much blood there was and the mess that would need cleaning up. But none of that mattered, the bodies could stay there rotting for days for all she cared. 

Javier appeared from one of the other rooms, “The others have gone.”

She nodded and walked towards him, “I should have told you who I was, I know that, I know I shouldn’t have kept something so important from you, I can’t apologise enough.” As she spoke she was trembling, her hands clasped together by her chest, feeling her own heart beat.

“You know it’s not even the fact that you’re Bronte’s daughter, it’s the fact that you knew where Jack was!” 

“I didn’t know, not at first!”

“And how am I supposed to believe you, knowing what I know now?”

“I swear!” Her voice strained, clearly in pain.

Javier buried his head in his hands and tried to steady his breathing before he shouted at her again, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do or how he could make it through this. 

“I’m sorry,” her bottom lip quivered, eyes full of tears again as she started to sob. 

“So you’ve said, sorry you were caught more like; how did you see this ending? With us riding off into the sunset back to Mexico?”

And although he wanted to forgive her, to pretend it hadn’t happened, he didn’t have it in him.

“No, I don’t know!” She threw her arms up into the air in dismay as tears streamed down her face.

Javier knew he had to leave before he changed his mind, “They’re my family, they have to come first. But take this as a lesson, you’ve inherited your father’s estate, learn from what’s happened here. Go into the world and live your life, that’s all I can offer you.”

She didn’t argue now, but let the silence fall between them, the inevitable dark hollow that opened up. 

She allowed herself to indulge in that silence and self-pity for a moment, “He wasn’t a good man,” in that moment she seemed genuinely sorry for the loss of her father as opposed to what else was happening. 

Javier sighed and walked up to her then pulled her into his chest, he hated her for lying to him, hated her for the danger she put his family in. But he couldn’t bring himself to hate her completely. The issue was she had broken his trust and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to recover from that.

“My love, I am sorry, but right now I cannot do this,” he said, still holding her so that he wouldn’t have to see her reaction.

“What?” Her voice was so meek, so confused, so unbelieving, there was no future where she imagined he’d have given her up this easily, where he wouldn’t have forgiven her, not her Javier.

“I do love you but I love my family, I owe my life to Dutch and Hosea, if only you’d have told me the truth from the beginning we could have worked things out.”

She pulled away from him, tears streaming down her cheeks, she balled up her fists and started to punch him repeatedly in the chest. Javier took it, allowing her to let her anger out on him.

“I’m not going to say there’s never a future for us, but, for now I can’t deal with this.”

“So you’re just going to leave me alone, your esteemed leader whom you love more than me, murders my father in a brutal fashion and now you’re leaving me.” Disbelief was written across her face. 

Javier felt pained, for the first time since Mexico, he felt wrecked with guilt, but how could he bring her home with him, to their camp? To the gang’s safe haven? It seemed impossible to him.

He shook his head, “You think this is easy for me? You think I like this?”

She bit her lip and looked at the floor like a child who’s been told off in school, “I know I’ve done so much wrong and I’m not sure I can put it right,” she said, though this time there was more conviction in her voice. Her tears were subsiding as exhaustion washed over her. 

“I loved you Marie, what we had was great, but if you love me too you’ll understand why this cannot be.”

She looked up into his kind, dark eyes and felt sorry for him. As much as it hurt her, she knew he was right. 

Javier pulled her into a hug again and rubbed her back, “You’re gonna be okay Marie, you’re a smart girl, you’ve got all the money you need to move on and live an amazing life.”

When he pulled away he kissed her one last time, it was a soft gentle kiss that had all the notes of, ‘I love you’. She desperate for more tried to kiss him more passionately and sucked on his lower lip, but as she did this he pulled away before brushing his lips against hers once more. 

“Will I ever see you again?” She asked.

Javier inhaled sharply and then shrugged, “Maybe… not for a very long time but maybe if you can prove yourself to us. But understand, this is over, if and this is a big if, if ever there comes a time when you prove yourself to me, we will have to start again.”

She nodded, “I understand.”

Javier pulled himself away from her and turned around, he refused to look back incase he changed his mind. He had to be strong now, strong for Dutch and the others, had to return to his family who needed him.

Marie watched him leave, powerless to stop him, she was head of the household now, no more tears. In a way their relationship had done exactly what she wanted it too, when it started she wanted to date a handsome man with an exciting life. Wanted to date someone who would kiss her, take her virginity, teach her what it was like to be a woman. And Javier had done that and more, he had prepared her for a relentlessly cruel world and taught her how to survive. 

In the end, that was why she let him go. As the front door closed, she became acutely aware of how empty the house was, the structure that had been full of so much noise just one hour ago, had fallen as silent as a graveyard. Time to move on, she thought. 

[creative-type]

The Murder of Arthur Wright XVIII

First Prevous AO3

AN: And here’s the big summation. I recommend reading on AO3 and the author note at the end of the chapter, as I have a lot of things to say and tumblr’s formatting isn’t the best for saying them. As always, thanks for reading

Chapter Eighteen: The Legacy of Arthur Wright

Margot paused as she entered Benson hall. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, though unlike the day of the mage’s conference there was no magic in the air, nor anyone besides herself and Dash to stare at her scars. It felt like an eternity and a half had passed since Master Wright’s death, when in reality it had been only days. How was it possible to feel so tired in such a short period of time?

Dash noticed her hesitation. “You okay, Prof?”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Nah, but I’m going to do it anyway.” He scratched the back of his head. “It feels right, you know? Have you ever had a feeling like that, deep down in your gut?”

“Once or twice. Sometimes my gut’s been wrong.”

“Been there, done that,” Dash said. “Can’t let past mistakes hold you back, otherwise you never end up going anywhere.”

“Thank you for your words of wisdom, Master Cain,” Margot said sardonically. Then, more seriously, “Are you sure they’ll show?”

Dash shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

Desdemona found them first. She entered the auditorium where her father died with her head held high and a set to her shoulders that reminded Margot of a soldier marching into a battlefield. Her eyes found the blackened wreckage of the stage, not yet repaired from the explosion, and gave a rather unladylike snort.

“You have a flair for the dramatic, Mr. Cain. I’ll give you that much.”

“Miss Desdemona,” Dash said respectfully. “I’m glad you could join us today.”

“Don’t patronize me, Mr. Cain,” Desdemona said. “I’m here for one reason only.”

She walked to the front row of the auditorium and took a seat, somehow making the simple chair look like a throne. Dash tilted his head in curiosity. “Speaking of reasons, where’s your sister?”

“Hopefully far away from here,” Desdemona said. “I told you she’s innocent. There’s no reason to include her in this farce.”

Dash didn’t push the issue, choosing instead to meander next to Margot. He asked in a low tone, “Do you think you could track her?”

“Tobe thinks he could find a hair that was hers but I’m sure Abigail will have taken precautions by now,” Margot said.

“All right. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, then.”

Dash was selecting a jerky stick when Felix arrived, accompanied by his wife. At the sight of Desdemona he came to a dead stop, and Isabella brought a hand over her mouth in shock.

Desdemona craned her head to look at them, a cutting smirk stretching across her face. “Long time no see, brother dearest.”

“Desdemona,” he said curtly. “It seems Mr. Cain was capable of finding you after all.”

“It seems so.” Desdemona turned her attention on Isabella. “You must be the one he managed to marry. You have my deepest condolences.”

“You have no right to speak to my wife that way,” Felix growled.

“I’m no Wright at all,” Desdemona said. “Father took care of that ten years ago.”

Felix flushed scarlet. “You brought that on yourself. You were given every opportunity and threw it all away for a girlish whim. Do you have any idea how your selfishness affected the rest of us? How could you do that to your family? To Abigail?”

“You leave her out of this,” Desdemona said, her voice as hard as steel.

“It’s your fault she’s dead!” Felix bellowed. He tore himself away from Isabella and bridged the distance between himself and Desdemona in seconds. Margot moved to stop him, but Dash put a hand on her shoulder.

“Wait,” he murmured. “Let’s see how this plays out.”

“Mother wept for you,” Felix snarled. “For both of you. Ungrateful brat, can you imagine the pain you’ve caused her? She lost both her daughters the day your selfishness overtook your sense. She had to watch Abigail waste away for five years and was helpless to prevent the despair for overtaking her completely.”

“Is that what she told you?” Desdemona asked disbelievingly. She laughed, “Gods, I always knew you were her favorite, but Mother’s got you wrapped around her little finger, doesn’t she?” She returned to her seat and crossed her legs for no reason other than to irritate him. “It’s a good thing we’re not here for her or Abigail, isn’t it? Hate me all you want, you had no reason to accuse me of killing Father.”

Sometime during the exchange Isabella had come up next to her husband. She looked up at Felix, making no attempt to hide her shocked surprise. “You accused your sister of murder?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Desdemona asked mockingly. “Tut tut, Felix. Don’t you know that communication is key to a healthy marriage?”

Felix’s blush crept down his neck, but whatever retort he was going to say was swallowed by the arrival of Adeline Wright. Desdemona saw her first, and she stiffened as their eyes locked. Dark brown vied with stormy grey for dominance, and in the end it was Desdemona who looked away, scowling.

“Felix, Isabella, I told you not to come,” Adeline said. “I am more than capable of handling a few insignificant upstarts on my own.”

“We wanted to hear what Mr. Cain had to say,” Isabella said, her tone equal parts explanation and apology. “We wanted to put this to rest.”

“Good to see you too, Mother,” Desdemona muttered from her seat.

“My daughter died ten years ago. You no longer have the right to call me by that name.” Adeline said, as cold and unwelcoming as ice. Without giving Desdemona a chance to respond, she turned to Isabella, her expression reproachful. “It is unbecoming of a woman to speak in her husband’s place. Felix is more than capable of explaining for himself.”

It was clear Adeline’s words cut through Desdemona’s posturing like it were made of wet paper. Twin spots of pink formed on her cheekbones, and she seemed to shrink two sizes smaller. Her hands bunched into her skirts in a white-knuckled grip, tendons protruding against her skin. “I never would have left if not for you. I hope you know that.”

Adeline’s head swiveled back towards Desdemona like a hawk tracking its prey. There was a slight flair to her nostrils, her quicksilver eyes burning with suppressed rage. “I gave you an education, a loving home, and carved a place for you in society. Do you know what my mother would have done had I shown even a quarter of the defiance you showed me? I did my utmost to raise you as a gentlewoman, a lady of superior manner and breeding. Tell me, Desdemona, have you managed to find a suitable husband on your own? Where are your children, or have you rejected your responsibility as a woman as well as your family name?”

“I have neither husband nor children, and I’ll tell you why,” Desdemona said, her voice cracking under the strain of her emotion. “I saw firsthand what happens when a woman throws herself at the first man that shows her the slightest bit of interest and had no desire to repeat your experience. Can you honestly tell me you would have married Father if your parents hadn’t pressed the issue? Why after so many years of unhappiness were you so determined for us to repeat your mistake, especially when Felix was allowed to wait until he found someone he actually cared for?”

Desdemona laughed coldly as all the color left her mother’s face. “Oh yes, I’ve forgotten after so many years of living with the less enlightened species: Felix is a man, so he gets to do whatever he wants. But know this, Mother, had I been afforded the same basic courtesy of getting to know my potential spouse on my own terms, I never would have left. Chew on that until you choke on your own bitterness for all I care. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

With this pronouncement made, Desdemona leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms defensively across her chest. She waited for Adeline to answer, a look of cold calculation in her eyes, and satisfaction flashed across her face when she could not. Margot would not have been surprised if Desdemona’s speech had been ten years in the making, each word carefully selected to hurt her mother in the only way she knew how.

It was frightening, in a way, how similar they were in that regard.

Dash took in the entire exchange, his hazel eyes missing nothing. Nodding to himself, he finally straightened to his full height and said, “Time to get started.” Clearing his throat, he vaulted nimbly onto the ruined stage.

“I thank you all for coming today. I recognize this is difficult for each of you, but while each may have a different motivations that brought us here, I think we can all agree that there is more to the death of Master Arthur Wright than meets the eye.”

Dash looked at each of the Wrights in turn. Adeline, Felix, and Isabella were clustered together while Desdemona stayed defiantly alone. “I suppose you guys have jumped the gun a little in clearing the air, but I think it’s past time for the truth to come out.”

A flicker of movement caught Margot’s eye. Dash saw it too, and for a moment he faltered, unsure of what to do.

Margot gestured for him to keep talking and ducked to the back of the auditorium were Abigail Wright stood frozen in terror. Gently leading her by the arm, Margot took her to the lobby outside.

“You came,” she said.

“I didn’t want to,” Abigail said. The nervous twitching of her fingers was back, stronger than ever. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Deep breaths, Abigail,” Margot said. “You’re not alone. Desdemona is in there.”

“Which is why I came. After all she’s done for me, I can’t let her face this alone,” Abigail said. She looked at Margot, looking absolutely lost. “Gods, Professor. They think I’m dead.”

“Yeah, they do,” Margot agreed. “But you faked your death to escape your father, and he is dead. What’s the worst they can do to you?”

“Have me committed,” Abigail said faintly. “Lock me up so I’ll never see the light of day again.”

“You know your mother better than I do, but do you really think she would admit publicly that you only pretended to throw yourself in a river?” Margot challenged, keeping her voice low. “She’s still telling people you married a diplomat to avoid the scandal. There’s no keeping quiet if she tries to oust you now.”

“She tells people I married a diplomat?” Abigail said, bewildered.

Margot nodded. “And that your sister eloped with an orc.”

“Is there a situation where she doesn’t marry us off?”

“I don’t think so,” Margot said.

Abigail said something in Elvish that Margot doubted Adeline Wright would have approved of and scrubbed her face with her hands. “I’m sorry if I throw up.”

She pushed past Margot and strode into the auditorium. What she lacked in confidence she made up for in gravitas. There was a stubborn set to her jaw that Margot now recognized all the Wrights possessed, and she acknowledged Dash’s questioning look with a solemn nod.  

“Ladies and gentleman, before we get started there is one more person who needs to get settled. I think you’ll find she needs no introduction.” As one the four Wrights looking at him turned to see who he was addressing.

Isabella shrieked with alarm and grasped the arm of a dumbfounded Felix. Both he and Adeline looked like they had seen a ghost, which, Margot supposed, they were. Silently Abigail walked past them and took her place next to her sister, evening the odds between the two factions.

“Abigail?” Felix whispered.

“Hello, Felix, Isabella.” Swallowing hard she managed to look Adeline in the eye. “Mother.”

It was then that Adeline fainted.

“She’s lucky Felix caught her.”

“I think high class ladies are trained to faint towards the nearest man,” Dash said. He sat on the edge of the stage, swinging his legs absentmindedly. Felix had laid his mother down on the ground and was using his wife’s smelling salts to revive her.

While this was happening Desdemona and Abigail had their heads together, whispering fiercely to one another. Margot couldn’t catch what they were saying, but watched with interest as Isabella crept away from her husband, slowly inching towards the twins. With a hand braced over the swell of her belly she crossed over the no-man’s land that divided the Wright family, finally catching Desdemona’s attention.

She rose to her feet and placed herself in front of Abigail. Desdemona was several inches taller and a great deal more intimidating than Isabella, and she used every bit of her superior bearing to look down at her sister-in-law.

“What do you want?” Desdemona asked.

“I don’t know you, but I did know Abigail,” Isabella said. “I have no idea what’s going on or what Mr. Cain has brought us here for. It seems like a cruel trick, but I know that can’t be it. Not after all this time.” She looked past Desdemona and said to Abigail directly, “I understand if you don’t believe me, but I’m glad you’re alive.”

It was difficult to say which of the twins was more astonished, but it was Abigail who moved first, rising smoothly to her feet. There was an anxious light to her eyes, not dissimilar to the expression Isabella wore. Carefully, like a wild animal testing a stranger intruding on their territory, she said, “I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused. I never apologized for my actions that night. It…it must have been a frightful shock.”  

“You were the one who was hurting most of all, and I never realized. I’ve thought of you every day for five years, wondering what I should have done differently,” Isabella said thickly. She smiled, still bewildered by what she saw, and said, “But it doesn’t matter now, because you’re alive.”

Then, with complete disregard for decorum, she threw her arms around Abigail in a bone-crushing hug.

“I am so, so sorry.”

Abigail stiffened at the sudden intrusion of her personal space. She threw a helpless look to Desdemona, silently begging for her to intervene. Even then it took Desdemona several moments to regather her senses, and she pried the two apart.

“I don’t think Felix would care much for you throwing yourself at your previously-deceased sister-in-law,” Desdemona said.

“I don’t care,” Isabella said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I never knew my parents, so perhaps I can’t understand, but as a girl I used to dream of what it would be like to have a family to love and cherish. It kills me to see this feud tear you all apart.”

“It’s not that simple,” Abigail said numbly.

“Perhaps not,” Isabella said, “but I wonder what would happen if any of you bothered to try.”

She glanced behind her, where Felix was now helping Adeline back to her feet. Adeline pushed herself away from her son, moaning softly when that little exertion caused her to sway dangerously on her feet.

Once Adeline was sufficiently recovered she wasted no time in fixing Isabella with a stare that would have made a veteran war mage cower in fear. Isabella let out a sharp breath through her teeth, and for a moment looked like she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do.

“No matter what happens, I’m glad you’re alive. Please believe me when I say that,” Isabella said quietly. There was another moment of hesitation before she finally went back to her husband’s side.

Desdemona whistled softly, eyebrows creeping towards her hairline. “I like her better than the last one Felix picked.”

“Isabella has always been very kind,” Abigail said faintly.

There was a lull, and finally some of the tension bled out of the room. It was only then that Dash chose to spring to his feet. Standing on the theater stage, he towered over the Wrights and commanded their attention with his presence alone. Removing his hat, he said, “I’m sure there are plenty of questions, and I promise they will be answered in due course, but the time has come to get down to the heart of the matter and the reason I’ve summoned you all here today: Master Arthur Wright is dead, and I’ve been doing my best to find out why.

"I have suspected from the beginning that foul play was involved. The authorities disagreed, and that was when I, along with Professor Margot, sought out Mr. Felix Wright for permission to investigate. It was at that day in the hospital that Mr. Wright hired me on the condition I prove his sister did the deed. A condition I failed to meet in a timely manner and was subsequently fired.

“My interest in the beginning was simple. Three years ago Master Wright hired Mr. Conan Westmacott to investigate Miss Desdemona. I was one of the men Mr. Westmacott had working that case—which ended in Mr. Westmacott’s retirement and the supposed death of Miss Abigail Wright, who had spent the previous two years institutionalized after a nervous breakdown.”

He paused to take a deep breath, his eyes flickering to Abigail. She was as tense as a drawn bowstring and just as likely to snap, but she gave the smallest of nods for him to continue. Clearing his throat, Dash said,

“Ten years ago Miss Desdemona ran away from home to escape what she thought to be an unbearable situation, causing great distress to both her parents. And yet Master Wright not only didn’t bring his daughter home, but disowned and cast her aside. Both Mrs. Adeline Wright and Mr. Felix Wright were devastated, albeit for different reasons, and neither forgave Master Wright for his decision, not realizing he had been blackmailed into inaction by none other than his second daughter, Miss Abigail Wright.”

“Lies,” Adeline hissed. “Lies and slander.”

“Which part, Mrs. Wright?” Dash asked. “Because your daughter was more than capable. She knew of the rumors that could ruin Master Wright’s research before it had a chance to get off the ground, and more than that held incredible influence over him. The mere threat of exposing the true progenitor of Master Wright’s theories would have been enough incentive to let Miss Desdemona go, let alone whatever nonsense happened while he was still teaching at the University.”

“What in the world are you talking about?” Felix demanded. “My father worked alone. He always has.”

“No, you just never realized that his research partner was right under your nose the entire time, because apparently none of you ever considered it possible that Miss Wright was doing more than studying under your father's tutelage. Your sister was working directly with Master Wright to make his dream of mass Teleportation into a reality. You can call me a liar till you’re blue in the face, but the facts are the facts, and the proof is in your father’s own letters.”

The silence was deafening. Adeline, Felix, and Isabella were all dumbstruck, and Abigail couldn’t bring herself to speak in her own defense. She began to shake as the various members of her family stared at her like she had grown a second head, causing Desdemona to wrap a protective arm around her shoulders.

It was telling, Margot thought, that none of them accused Dash of lying. At least not immediately. Maybe the combined shock of the pronouncement in addition to finding out she was alive after all these years had silenced them, but Margot thought that perhaps they could hear the ring of truth in what he was saying. Abigail had always had a reputation within the family as being strange and bookish. Maybe it wasn’t so hard for them to make the leap that under her father’s careful instruction she had become a serious student of magic.

Dash spread out his arms. “I don’t say these things lightly, nor do I enjoy digging at old wounds without reason. It is my belief that everything that has happened over the last decade has played a crucial role in Master Wright’s death. This mess,” he said, gesturing broadly the Wrights, “is his legacy. More than any theory or enchanted ring.

“But before we begin, I must ask one last thing. Mrs. Wright, would you please be so kind as to remove your gloves.”

“Excuse me?” Isabella asked.

“Sorry, wrong Mrs. Wright.” Dash scratched the back of his head, momentarily breaking the illusion of complete control he had been trying to cultivate. “I’ve never done a summation where all the people had the same last name before.”

“You mock me, Mr. Cain,” Adeline said, a faint tremor in her voice. Her swoon, whether real or dramatized, had tilted her hat askew, and for the first time she looked vulnerable and afraid. “Remove my gloves? Whoever heard of such ridiculous nonsense?”

“The theory Professor Margot and myself have put together is dependent on one fact that we have not yet confirmed,” Dash said. “If I’m wrong, you’re more than welcome to rake me over the coals, but I don’t think I’m wrong. Your gloves, Mrs. Wright. That is, if you have nothing to hide?”

“I have suffered enough indignity at your hands, Mr. Cain. I will not listen to another word that you have to say. Felix, Isabella, come along. We’re leaving.”

Adeline Wright gathered her both her dress and the scraps of her tattered pride and moved toward the exit. She made it halfway before she realized her son had not moved. Her eyes widened a fraction of an inch when she realized they would not be moving.

“Mother, he found Abigail,” Felix said plaintively.

“I…this is a trick. I don’t know what sort of evil who could give birth to such a scheme, but who would you rather believe, this orc or the greatest detective of our generation? Conan Westmacott saw Abigail jump with his own eyes. Her body was washed away to sea, and she is dead. D-dead and never coming back.”

Adeline’s composure, which had slipped considerably since Abigail had revealed itself, crumbled away entirely. She wept, not the graceful tears of a lady, but the ugly, uncontrolled sobs of a mother who had her heart ripped from her chest. She tore the black gloves off of her hands and threw them to the ground, and somewhere in the back of her mind Margot heard Isabella gasp.

Bandages covered Adeline’s hands, clumsily applied and in need of changing. At the sight of them Felix swore, and Dash nodded to himself in grim satisfaction.

“Wait, I was right?” Desdemona said. “Mother really was the one who killed Father? I didn’t honestly think…”

“It’s not that simple,” Dash said. “Prof, do you mind?”

Margot took Adeline by the elbow and sat her in the nearest chair. Gently she began removing the dressings, and was unable to stop a surprised hiss from escaping her at what she saw. The Wright matriarch’s hands were blistered and raw, the injury worst at the center of her palms and her fingertips. Calling on her magic, Margot gathered a handful of water.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Adeline demanded.

“Cleaning your wounds before they fester. I don’t know much healing magic, so it’s the best I can do for now.”

Adeline bore the humiliation stoically as fat tears continued to roll down her face. A few of the injuries went deep enough that Margot wasn't sure she had any feeling left. She thought of her own burn ointment back in her desk at the Academy and wondered if Adeline had self-medicated with something similar, or if she had simply gone without pain relief at all.

“You need a proper healer,” Margot said when she was finished cleaning the wounds. A cantrip removed the worst of the stains from Adeline’s bandages, though Margot didn’t know the spell that would have sterilized it entirely, and carefully she began the process of rewrapping her hands.

“Healers ask questions,” Adeline said numbly.

“Healers can be paid to keep quiet,” Margot said.

Adeline scoffed, a portion of her imperious nature returning. “There’s not enough money in the world that can keep a secret that’s desperate to come out. I’ve learned that again and again, and yet here we are.” She turned her watery eyes on Dash. “How did you know?”

“I told you, it was an unconfirmed suspicion. I noticed, Mrs. Wright, back when we first met. You winced when I took your hand. I didn’t think much of it at the time because you’re kinda racist and probably don’t like mixed-blood orcs touching you. But it kept happening, at the gravesite with your son, when you threatened me in my office, and just now when Felix helped you stand. Every time you touched something with your hands, you reacted as if in pain. And still I might not have thought anything of it, if not for Miss Abigail Wright.”

“Me?” Abigail said. “But I didn’t say anything about my mother.”

“No, but you did say your father protected his research with magic.” Dash clasped his hands behind his back and paced up and down the length of the stage. “Over the course of the investigation one thing became clear to me: Every one of you was trying to protect someone else. Why else would Mr. Wright be so quick to accuse his sister after not seeing her in ten years, or even knowing if she was there at the scene of the crime? Why else would Mrs. Wright approach both the professor and myself after we’d already been fired and demand that we leave her son alone? Why else would Miss Desdemona try to hide her sister, and why else would Miss Wright make it so clear that she and she alone had the knowledge needed to kill her father?”

Dash spun suddenly and pointed an accusatory finger at Adeline Wright. “You knew your son’s relationship with his father was on the rocks, and you knew that Felix spent the most time with Master Wright before his death. He had motive and opportunity to kill his father.”

He moved from Adeline to Felix and said, “You knew your mother fought with your father often. During the funeral funeral I overheard the servants say that Master and Mrs. Wright had a row the night before the mage’s conference. You knew how unhappy your mother was after years of scandals and the loss of two daughters. Mrs. Wright, you also had motive and opportunity to kill your husband!”

“My son had nothing to do with it!” Mrs. Wright shrieked. She bolted to her feet and held up her mangled hands for all to see. “This. This is proof that he didn’t!”

“Calm down, Mrs. Wright. I’ve not accused your son of anything yet,” Dash said. “Or you, for that matter.”

Adeline slumped back into her seat, a look of blank terror on her face. Again Dash began to pace.

“You told Professor Margot that your love and duty was to your children, and in Mr. Wright’s case I believe that to be true. He, after all, is the only one who came back. I can’t imagine what that would feel like, to cling so desperately to a child, your firstborn son, only for your own husband to push him away as useless just because they didn’t fit his idea of what sort of man he should become.”

“There’s no need for such introspection if you’re going to accuse me, Mr. Cain,” Adeline said. “I don’t deny it. I killed my husband. There, are you satisfied?”

“No, because it’s not true. You might have wanted to, but you don’t have the expertise to deliberately tamper with your husband’s research,” Dash said. “I do believe, however, that sometime during or after your last argument, you found Master Wright’s notebook where he kept his spells, and in a fit of rage decided to destroy it. Miss Wright mentioned that he kept it well-protected, and it seems like you managed to rip one handful of pages out before the defenses triggered. Your injuries kept you from accompanying your Master Wright to the conference, but it is clear now that you kept what you had done secret. All of Master Wright’s work on those pages would have been destroyed, including the formulas he had prepared for his demonstration.”

“But that’s ridiculous, even if it is true,” Felix said. “Father would have notice immediately and redone them. That has nothing to do with how he died.”

“You’re assuming that he had time to fix it,” Dash said. “Mrs. Wright played her part in this story, but she’s not the only one, because Miss Desdemona had decided to use the mage’s conference to extract a revenge of her own.”

“I don’t deny it, Mr. Cain,” Desdemona said stiffly.

“It would be a hard thing to deny, seeing as how your brother was present for it,” Dash said. “See, it all goes back to Miss Desdemona running away from home. That one incident was the wedge that drove everyone apart. Miss Wright was determined to see her sister go free, and she took measures with her father to make sure it happened. I’m sure you can imagine how well Master Wright took such a betrayal, and even as she continued to work with her father, Miss Wright’s health and well-being began to deteriorate, culminating in the incident that led her to being sent to the asylum.”

“Gods…” Isabella breathed, eyes widening in horror.

“Miss Desdemona found her there, and together they hatched the scheme to get her out. When she learned what her father had done to her sister she became furious. That rage smoldered for three years, and when she saw an opportunity to strike back against Master Wright, she took it. I’m sure the fact Mr. Wright was there as well was just icing on the cake.”

Dash turned to address Felix directly. “You were right about one thing, your sister was the one who got The Death of Desdemona in Anansi’s hands. Now Anansi claims they didn’t use Desdemona’s face during that performance, but I’ve got an inkling suspicion they’re lying through their teeth. Either way it doesn��t matter. The performance shook both you and Master Wright to the core. While you went out to drown in your sorrows, Master Wright went to demand answers. It’s there we enter act three of this tragedy.”

Again he paused to gauge the reaction of his audience. Finding them suitably engaged, he continued,

“Master Wright never met Anansi that night, but he did meet his daughter. Miss Wright—that is, er, I mean Miss Abigail, not Desdemona who wasn’t even there—admits to seeing him, wanting some answers of her own after all this time.

“Miss Wright claims she lost her nerve and never said anything to Master Wright. That might be true, but again it doesn’t matter because after an unproductive interaction he stormed away. Miss Wright, you said you thought your father was afraid, correct?”

“Yes,” Abigail breathed.

“As well he should be, since he came thinking Anansi was wearing the face of your sister. You two look a lot alike, but you aren’t identical, and your sister doesn’t have the same eyes you do.”

Realization hit Abigail like a ton of bricks. She staggered back into her seat and buried her head in her hands.

“Master Wright came thinking he’d see Miss Desdemona, and he saw Miss Abigail instead,” Dash said, almost sadly. “I don’t blame him for running.”

“But that still doesn’t have anything to do with my father’s death,” Desdemona said. “Abby didn’t kill him. She wasn’t there the day he died.”

“Hold your horses, I’m getting there,” Dash said. “See, there was one more thing that Mr. Wright said that I didn’t think much about at the time. Mr. Wright didn’t get back to his hotel room until after two in the morning, which caused yet another fight, this time between him and Master Wright. Mr. Wright says he was in bed by three—which again I have no way of proving but think is probably true—and Master Wright was still up working. Because of Mrs. Wright’s actions and the shock of seeing his dead daughter, Master Wright hadn’t yet recalculated the formula he would need for his big demonstration. Mr. Wright, what time did your father go to bed that night?”

“I…I don’t know,” Felix said.

“Exactly. Now, Miss Wright managed to reconstruct the formula Master Wright used for the mage’s conference: ten kilograms of graphite Teleported twenty-five meters.”

“But that can’t be right,” Felix said, confused.

“It is, and I’ll leave it to Professor Margot to explain why.”

Margot stepped forward. “I was there the day Master Wright died. I saw the chunk of graphite he was going to use for his demonstration. It was small, able to fit into the palm of my hand.” She formed a ball of ice to demonstrate. “Abigail, you were surprised by the calculation you came up with because the ideal that your father had always been working for had been one kilogram, not ten. Am I right?”

“Of course she is,” Felix said. “That’s what we were going to do. That’s what Father had always planned on doing.”

Margot nodded. “The defenses on Master Wright’s rings were substantial. They protected against any outside influence interfering with the magic within the ring and encouraged stability with the internal elements. But there is no protection against user error.”

She let the ice dissipate into the air. “In order to Teleport the graphite Master Wright had to calculate its physical properties into the spell: Density, shape, and weight are all key components in this process. A smaller object takes far less energy to Teleport than a large one, and the rings themselves were only a scale model of what he one day hoped to build. Their energy capacity was limited simply because of their size. The power it takes to Teleport a ten kilogram object versus a one kilogram object is substantial. The rings would have been forced beyond what they were designed to do, but since the spell itself was technically correct none of the failsafes would have triggered. This surge of energy would have been more than enough to trigger a thermal runaway reaction, causing the explosion.”

“There’s a saying among orcs that you reap what you sow, and for ten years Master Wright had done nothing but cultivate bad blood within the family,” Dash said. “No one person is any more responsible than the rest. Master Wright’s death was one of a thousand cuts, and without the perfect storm of events leading up to the mage’s conference he probably would still be alive.”

He jumped off of the stage and replaced his hat on his head. “I said that I was suspicious of foul play from the beginning, but I was wrong. Master Wright’s death wasn’t murder, but a stupid, senseless accident. And if you want my honest opinion, he had no one to blame but himself.”

[blustersquall]

I can just picture this beautiful moment at the end of the big fight. Arthur’s laying on the mountain, watching the sunrise, thinking it’s his last. His watches as long as he can, until regret and pain fade away to acceptance and peace, and his eyes start to close. The last thing he sees is a shadowy figure start to approach. Then he wakes up safe in bed because like hell Isabels just gonna stay behind. Because you have to be loyal to what matters.

sorry it took me a while to write this, Nonny. I really loved this idea of yours and wanted to work on it. I don’t think it’s as good as it could be. I think I lost steam, so I apologize for that. But I really love this idea and wanted to write something for it. So I hope you don’t mind.

Yes, this is fix-it fic.

End of game spoilers within. You have been warned!

@ineedpeetalikehekneadsbread @rdr-oc-appreciation

It’s finally over.

All the lies. All the killing. All the pain… it’s done. Finished. 

Every breath was agony. Arthur could hear the pronounced wheeze, how it rattled around his body. His voice was raw, shredded from the running and the violent coughing fits. The taste of blood lingered in his mouth and he could just about hear the sound of gunfire moving further and further away. 

The Pinkertons… going after Dutch? Or Micah? Not John he hoped. Prayed - for the first time in perhaps his whole life, he found himself praying to whatever God existed that John would get away and get out of this life. That he would be safe, reunited with Abigail and Jack and be able to begin his life.

It was strange to think that this would be it. He would die here on the side of this rocky hill. In less than an hour, the scavengers would find his corpse and he would be a meal for the coyotes and vultures. If that was the case, at least he was good for something in the end. 

Sun started to peek up over the distant mountains. Thin threads of gold, orange and pink bleeding into inky blackness. 

He regretted so much, and there had not been enough to time fix everything. He wished he’d seen through Dutch sooner. Seen through the lies and manipulation. Seen the real man Dutch was, and not the man Dutch pretended to be. He regretted the loss of so many good people to Dutch’s schemes and greed. Jenny, the Callender boys, Sean, Lenny, Hosea… God, he regretted Hosea’s death most of all. Regretted not spending more time with him. Not ever letting him know how much he valued him as a friend and father figure. 

Had Hosea known what deep admiration Arthur held for him? He hoped so. 

Dwelling on the regret wouldn’t change anything now. Hosea and the others were resting. They were at peace and soon Arthur hoped to join them. To welcome at soothing numbness and give in to it’s enticing embrace. 

He had thought he would fear this… the inevitability. That when the time came, he would be afraid of what lay beyond when he closed his eyes for the final time, and when his heart ceased to beat. There was no fear though. There was something else. Acceptance? 

He accepted that this was the end for him. This was going to be it. He lived a bad life. Did terrible things. But he tried… in the end, he did. 

Had he succeeded in making up for past transgressions? Arthur doubted it. He would need two lifetimes to make up for all the pain and misery he caused. But he tried, and that mattered.

And he had touched other lives. Met and loved good people, too. Hosea. Tilly and Mary-Beth. Susan Grimshaw, the stern mother figure to everyone who deserved a more peaceful end than the one she got. Mrs Adler, a braver woman he had never known, nor one quite so ferocious. Reliable and noble Charles Smith. He enjoyed laughter with Karen, even thought on Uncle with fondness. He saw in Jack the son he lost. Saw in what John and Abigail had the life he could have had, once. 

He had loved. Not once, but twice. 

Mary. That first blush of love. That young true love that never went away, no matter how much time passed or what happened between them. That love was always there. He hoped she would be happy. That she would find a new life and a husband who could give her everything Arthur could not. 

Isabel. His new love. A love that barely got a chance to bloom into what it truly could have been. He loved her in a way that could never compare to the way he loved Mary. Isabel was a match to him. A piece to him he never knew was missing. She helped him see he could be more than what he was. Helped him realise the truth of who he could be. That he was more than what Dutch would have had him be. 

He imagined her back at the cabin. Hunting, tidying, making it a home for them… A home he would never see. He prayed she would not hate him for not coming back to her. Prayed she would forgive him for dying. She must have known he didn’t want to. 

His eyes were growing heavy. The threads of sunrise were more beams now, forcing the night sky to recede. The beams shone over Arthur’s face. They warmed him. It was still a sensation is broken body could recognize. He did his best… he knew that, and he could die well, knowing he at least tried. That was enough for him. He could close his eyes and rest now. He could welcome the embrace of silence and rest…

The texture beneath his hands was soft. Not spring grass soft, but soft material. Cotton, or linen? That Arthur could feel anything at all was a surprise. The last thing he remembered was the sun rising, the warmth on his face. He remembered closing his eyes and waiting for oblivion or utopia, whichever he would find.

Now, he was confused. 

The material under his hands. He could move his toes, and his fingers, and his chest was clearer than it had been for months. He could breathe without pain… There was still a wheeze, but breathing came easier now. He sharpened his other senses before daring to open his eyes. 

Smell. He could smell herbs. Ginseng and yarrow, and something else he couldn’t place. And he could smell steam. And logs. Logs burning on a fire.

Fire! He could hear the crackling of one not far away. The song of a bird somewhere never sounded quite as beautiful as it did at that moment. He wasn’t alone, either. Under the sound of the logs and the birdsong was movement. Feet. Booted feet scuffing the ground. 

Arthur began to open his eyes, afraid to do so. Afraid that if he did, all the familiar sounds and smells would disappear and he would be faced with a fiery pit. 

The world around him remained in tact. He stared up at a log cabin ceiling. Beside him was a small table, with a pestle and mortar on it. That was where the smell of herbs was coming from. The fabric around him was a blanket. Soft and warm and familiar…

This didn’t make sense. Where was he? Why was he still alive? How was he still alive?!

Arthur tried to sit up, but his body refused to obey his commands. He groaned when his chest tightened, and he began to cough. Arthur quickly covered his mouth determined to catch any blood as he sputtered. The wheeze was there, but less pronounced. No blood stained his tongue or his hand when he moved it away. There was nothing.

Distracted by his coughing, Arthur did not notice another body join him until he opened his eyes when the fit subsided. Sitting on the edge of the bed was a woman he recognized, but was puzzled to see.

“… Am I dead?” asked Arthur, his voice rasping from lack of use.

“Not yet.” Isabel replied with a small smile. “Though you certainly came close.” She came towards him and assisted him in sitting up. She positioned some pillows behind him to support his back. “You didn’t seriously think I’d let you go off alone, did you?”

Arthur opened and closed his mouth several times, willing words to come out, but unable to find them. Isabel reached down to the floor and retrieved a plain metal cup and a jug of water. After pouring a drink, she mixed in some of whatever was in the pestle and handed it to Arthur. 

“Drink up, it’ll help.” 

Arthur did as she said. The water was warm, and the herbs only added a hint of flavor as he downed the cup in a few gulps. His throat felt better for it, but it did little to quell his confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

“I gave you half a day head start.” Isabel explained, holding the jug between her hands. “I went up to Beaver Hollow. I hid out, waitin’ for you to return with the others. When the Pinkertons arrived, I stayed hid…” She looked down at the floor, “I heard everythin’ in that confrontation with Dutch and Micah. I never liked Micah, but to think he’d rat to Milton…”

“I don’t wanna think about that.”

Isabel leaned forward and curled Arthur’s hair behind his ear, before cradling his cheek in the palm of her hand. Arthur barely contained a gasp to feel her physically. He was sure this was just a fantasy as he died, a lie, conjured by his mind. He gripped her hand. She was real. Physical and real and there in front of him. 

“I saw you escapin’ with John. Saw you tryin’ to hold of the Pinkertons… Saw Micah. The exchange with him, an’ Dutch.” Her voice hitched, and Arthur could hear a quiver in her breathing. “I wanted to step in, I did. But–”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” Mustering what little strength he had, Arthur moved as close to Isabel as he could and nuzzled her forehead. “I wouldda never forgiven m’self if somethin’ happened t’you.”

“I ain’t never lettin’ you outta my sight again, Mr Morgan.” The smile he heard in Isabel’s voice was enough, but he saw the relief the one on her lips contained. “I met Charles up at Beaver Hollow after… everything. He helped me get you back here to Hamish’s cabin. An’ Rains Fall gave me some herbs and tonics t’help with your tuberculosis. It ain’t a cure, but he said it’ll help the cough and slow the symptoms. We’ll need t’get you somewhere warm and dry to really try an’ fight it, but… it’s a start.”

“A damn miracle.” Arthur chuffed. 

“Was touch an’ go for a while there,” Isabel retreated from him, sitting straight. “You been out for a week or more. I been feedin’ you broth. Talkin’ to you… I was worried you wasn’t going to wake up.”

“I didn’t…” Arthur stopped. “It don’t matter now. I am awake. An’ alive.”

“Yeah,” Isabel nodded, “you is.” 

They looked at each other from across the small distance between them. The spark that had always been there crackled, and Arthur wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and express how grateful he was with words and actions. He was too weak to move though, he knew that. Too weak and bruised to do much more than sit. 

“You got a lot of healin’ t’do now.” Isabel informed him. “I’ll be on you like a rash if you try an’ push yourself, Arthur Morgan.” She got to her feet and ran her fingers back through his hair, “it’ll take time. First thing we’ll do when you’re strong enough is get you bathed… and do somethin’ about that beard.”

“What am I meant t’do in the mean time?” asked Arthur, kissing the heel of Isabel’s hand before she was too far away from him. 

With a small knowing smile, and without answering him, Isabel went from the bedroom area of the cabin and around the corner. Arthur waited a few moments until she returned. She carried a leather bound book in her hands, pens, and pencils. 

“You didn’t have your satchel on you when I found you.” Isabel said, handing the items to Arthur. “So, I asked Charles to get a new journal and some things for you, on my behalf.”

Arthur flicked through the blank pages of the book. They were crisp white, pristine, and perfect. Not a mark, or a blemish. Not a single imperfection. 

“Thought it might be nice for you t’have a fresh start.”

Putting the journal down in his lap, Arthur nodded his head smiling a little up at Isabel. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

So yeah. Arthur still has TB, but now he’s not running around trying to fix everything, he can actually take time to try and fight it and build up his strength. And nice new journal, metaphorical new start, yay!? metaphors!