#without fully grasping the war crimes shes committing

[lemon-wedges]

When your beautiful wife makes his Special Anime Beef Stroganoff™

[adonis-koo]

wicked • 12

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 9k

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Note: thank u sm for being patient everyone! I hope you enjoy the chapter bc i definitely did!! :)

Dread filled your entire being as silence thickened in the air, your lips had parted multiple times and yet you could find the will to say a thing. 

Your mothers head had been lowered somber as she folded her hands, the news bearing a weight heavier than you would have ever anticipated, “Why…?” You finally rasped out, “Why would they request our presence at the War Meetings?” 

It was difficult to believe earlier that day you had been running in the fields with Seokjin, blissfully ignorant to the circumstances that were brewing in the castle. You knew that just because Penumbra had made the request, it didn’t mean anything. 

Just that they wanted Eunoia's presence at the meeting but still, just the thought made your chest tighten in fright, they were the reason your country had become a graveyard to so many. 

Your mother only shook her head, grabbing your hands tenderly as she sat beside you on your bed, “I do not know my dove,” She ushered softly, “But this is none too surprising to me truthfully.” 

Your lips twisted mournfully as you mumbled, “It doesn’t?” 

“No,” Your mother offered a sad smile, “We were the ones that shielded their lost nation of Seoul after Kyoto completely purged them. In a sense, I’m sure Penumbra feels as if they can trust us.” 

Your lips curled in anger, “We protected them just so they could rise back up and fight with their pride!” You spat out, “And what did they give us in return? Nothing but grief, and death, and- and war.” 

Your eyes glossed as you shook your head, unable to even close your eyes without the sight of the burning pilings filling your vision, the last round having been made up of mostly little ones, just the memory had your heart twisting in all kinds of ways. 

“All of this, just for the sake of pride?” You whispered out painfully.

Your mother frowned as she shook her head, “Y/n, that isn’t fair to make that assumption of their entire nation just from the royals.” 

“It isn’t just the royals,” You replied hotly, “They have an army, those that volunteer themselves to fight for them. For the bloody war.” 

She sighed as she lowered her gaze, perhaps in acceptance of your anger, “Many have been affected by the wars over the last five years. Even so, it is our place in Eunoia to treat all with kindness and expect nothing in return. For that is who a Eunoian is.” 

She looked at you with a soft yet stern look, “I don’t expect you to have full grasp of this concept yet, it takes time, but I wish you be more kind in your heart to Penumbra, they’ve suffered a lot over the years, it doesn’t make what they’ve done right. But just know many do not have a choice, they have families and children of their own to protect. Kyoto would good and well instigate the war all over again if it meant completely wiping them out had they not started it first.” 

You glared down at your knees as your chest puffed a little, knowing she was right. A Eunoian would always be kind and expect no kindness in return but…Truthfully you weren’t sure if you could fully embody that, though you wish you could. 

You couldn’t help but feel anger towards Penumbra, yes what they had gone through was horrible, but to instigate a war that did the same to other nations as had been done to them…? The lines were so blurred, you didn’t know anymore. 

You didn’t want to know. 

Your mother tenderly brushed her hand across your cheek, wiping away the tears of anger that had begun trailing down your cheekbones, “Life will never be simple Y/n,” She frowned, as if pained to see you in pain, “I just hope one day the Dryads will grant you the clarity to be able to navigate it.”

And with this she quietly exited the room as you shook your head, letting the tears continue to trail down your cheeks as you sniffled. The door opened once more to your surprise as Seokjin came in, worry in his eyes as you lowered your gaze once more. 

“Don’t worry my love,” Seokjin ushered out as he kneeled in front of you, “Things will work out in our favor.” 

You smiled mirthlessly, “You seem to have a lot of faith in that.” 

“And you should as well, Eunoia being in the War Room council will change nothing, Penumbra are all criminals and they will die the death they deserve.” Seokjin replied, his eyes brewing with determination as he held your hands, “I don’t want our children to live in a world where Penumbra exists. I’ll burn every last bit of their land if it means protecting our future.” 

You wept softly as you shook your head, “Perhaps, but I fear the change that is happening can’t be stopped.” 

Seokjin gave you a comforting smile, “Have you met me darling? I could bring even change itself to its knees.”

This made a weak smile tug on your lips as you replied, “I hope you’re right.” 

It had been hours since what had happened, and yet you still found your body shuddering occasionally as your breath would tremble and every time you’d close your eyes, you would find yourself back in Eunoia, when the bells would ring every Friday late evening when the bodies would be burned. 

You briefly wondered what had made you even think of the memory of when you found out Penumbra had requested Eunoia during the War Room council, back before the rite of peace had been made. 

Perhaps because back then you were young and naïve, and most definitely thought you’d never be in this position with the supposed Wicked Prince…

You shifted a little, causing the water to ripple at your movement, your eyes followed the ripple before it stopped at the sight of skin, before they immediately darted away and you could feel your face flush with heat.

And maybe it was just you, but you were positive it wasn’t from the hot water. 

Jungkook had been bathing by himself after you had been settled into bed, having refused to talk but had managed to get dressed in your nightwear on your own and had for the most part calm down. 

He had been relaxed in the water with his eyes shut when…You weren’t even sure what possessed you, his back had faced you but…the water looked inviting and you could see the steam wafting off of it and the chill in your bones hadn’t been melted. 

So, you did something that you normally wouldn’t do- the norm it seemed these days, and had managed to undress yourself before stepping into the tub. Your only saving grace at the moment was that you were at least able to bath since Taehyung had begun using a heat repellent with your wrappings for your injuries. It allowed you to bathe but you still wouldn’t be allowed in for more then a half an hour at most.

Jungkook hadn’t opened his eyes but you had watched the muscles on his arms tense a little at the sound of rippling water and the unmistakable splash you had made as you sat down and eventually he had opened his eyes to look at you. 

Your knees had since been tugged into your chest, letting the hot water melt away any fear and cold that had clung to you since this early evening. You took a deep breath, but your breath still shuddered no matter how hard you tried to keep it even. 

You and Jungkook hadn’t spoken since he had taken you back to the castle and for a while he had just held you, saying no more before you eventually murmured that you could get changed. But now he was staring at you, his eyes a little lidded- perhaps from exhaustion, and you could see it. 

He was tired. 

But it looked like something was bothering him. Your lips trembled a little as you took another deep breath but to no avail, your breath still hadn’t gone completely back to normal. This caused a sigh to escape Jungkook’s lips. 

What you hadn’t expected was for him to reach out to you, his hand cupping your cheek tenderly, “For what it’s worth, I tried to stop them…I’m sorry.” A dull ache throbbed in your chest and just like that your eyes were watering again. 

A sniffle escaped you as you closed your eyes, warm wet tears began to slowly trickle down your cheeks as you openly let yourself lean into the touch of his hand, bigger than your cheek easily and you could feel the callouses that had formed on his skin from years ago. 

His thumb brushed away any stray tears as you sniffled once more, scooting a little closer to him as your hands grabbed onto his own, snuggling it close to your cheek though you still kept a respectable distance from him. 

Truthfully had this been any other situation you would’ve fully climbed into his embrace, but well…given you both were naked, you figured it wouldn’t be appropriate. 

“Ever since we deforested the Western woods during the war we’ve had influxes like this,” Jungkook ushered quietly, “I had advised against it but my father wouldn’t have it…I had hoped we could lead it back to the northern woods where it would be safe when I saw you but Seohyun…” He shook his head, “I’m sorry.” 

You tried desperately to not let your lips quiver but it was useless, your eyes squeezed shut and just the memory kept a dull ache alive in your chest, “It was just afraid.” You whispered, squeezing his hand once more before you shut your eyes, the feeling of warm tears dripping down your cheeks. 

“I know.”

It was silent once more and the fire filled the void with it’s soft crackles that kept the cool air at bay, Jungkook’s hand had eventually slipped from your cheek before he sighed, shifting in the water before he asked, “Are you ready to get out?” as if sensing your feelings.

You gave a small nod as you sniffled.

Junkook only gave a short nod before he stood up from the water, your eyes immediately averted and your face felt warmer than you remembered. 

Despite your tear stained cheeks, you still felt embarrassed at the sight of seeing your husband naked, even just the brief sight of muscular thighs had your heart rate picking up. 

He wrapped the towel around his waist as he unfolded another one, “Alright stand up.” 

You shuffled a little in your spot still curled up, knowing in order to dry off you needed to get out but...Well you didn’t think this far ahead if you were being truthful, he hadn’t even invited you to bath with him.

Briefly, worry began to creep into your chest, hoping you hadn’t crossed any boundaries with him by doing so, but seeing as he was holding up a towel- with an admittedly patient- yet slightly exasperated expression, made you feel that perhaps, you hadn’t done anything as such. 

“Don’t be so pouty,” Jungkook chided, yet his tone was oddly soft, “I’m not gonna look at anything I don’t have permission to. Stand up before the water gets cold.” 

Jungkook’s lips curled into a tiny reserved smile as yours lips jutted out further before you reluctantly stood up, your body immediately cold and feeling exposed but true to his words the towel blocked off his vision that he had politely kept up the towel before wrapping you up, letting you use his shoulders to balance as you wobbled a little to step out. 

After a brief moment you suddenly realized how close you both were when you looked up at him, his hair wet and dripping with water as your hands kept hold close to his neck. It was silent for a long moment as you looked up at him. After a brief moment you suddenly realized how close you both were when you looked up at him, his hair wet and dripping with water as your hands kept hold close to his neck. 

It was silent for a long moment as you looked up at him. 

His hands seemed to tighten just a little on your waist, bunching the fabric of the towel and you could feel your cheeks beginning to throb as you finally broke eye contact mumbling, “I’m sorry…” 

“For what?” Jungkook had cleared his throat a little, straightening back up and you noticed the way his finger’s seemed to fidget a little against the hem of the towel near your breasts as he tucked the side piece in. 

You stared down at his chest, having not meant to stare yet you couldn’t help it, your eyes trace against the various marks and scars that littered his body, and then of course the chiseled well trained muscles that adorned so many scars. 

“...everything.” You ushered softly with a shrug. 

You could hear Jungkook puff a breath as if in amusement of your words but before you could even get the chance to ask why he had suddenly leaned down scooping you up like you were nothing more than a paper weight making you flail. 

“Jungkook!” You shrieked as you curled up against him, your face feeling even hotter than before at how warm his skin was against yours and not only this but his entire upper body was naked- in fact he was naked if not for the two pieces of cloth separating you both. 

He snickered at your reaction before placing you in the seat in front of the fire that was admittedly warm. 

His expression melted into something that looked like content as he kneeled down in front of you, “Stop apologizing.” 

This made your lips jut further, “...sorry.” 

“Stop” 

This one came out more reprimanding then the last and it made a small smile curl on your lips as he stood up before walking away briefly.

The one thing you appreciated about his room was the fireplace in it that was almost always going at night leaving it much warmer in comparison to yours or any other room.

You curled your legs against your chest as you huddled towards the fire to keep warm, you could hear a soft rustle behind you before Jungkook reappeared within a few moments, now dressed in a pair of loose trousers but still topless as he unfolded a new towel, kneeling down as he reached out drying your hair off as your lips jutted into a pout at how he wasn’t being gentle. 

“Ow…!” You mumbled with a whine as your body wobbled against his rough grip as he placed 

the towel over your head, pausing as his eyes gazed over your face before he snorted suddenly, a smile curling on his lips as you glared with a sulk at him. 

He shook his head as he pulled the towel from your head, “Here, this was all I could find, I don’t know how Wheein sorts your wardrobe, so…” He stood up as he tossed the folded closes into your lap making you jump a little.

“You could be a little more gentle!” You whined out not responding to his words as he stretched up ignoring you as always as he walked away. 

Your brows furrowed as you inspected the folded...shirt? But as you inspected the small material- much to your horror it was possibly the shortest night gown you had ever seen in your life. 

This would not be that big of a deal if you were back in Eunoia, due to the warm nights, sleepwear was always loose and short, but you were married now! Your lips twisted into a pout as you stared down at the slip. 

Somewhat in anger because if you hadn’t let Seokjin convince you into wearing more world traditional dresses and yourself consciousness nagging your mind, you probably wouldn’t have thought twice about putting this on. 

You inhaled sharply., trying to calm your embarrassment as you called out, “You don’t actually expect me to wear this do you?” 

You could have sworn you heard a quiet snicker from Jungkook before he spoke, “If you want to go hunt down Wheein, be my guest. Or you could go dig through all of your clothes yourself. But that’s all I could find, princess.” 

You kicked your legs as you sighed before looking behind you sharply. 

Jungkook was sat up on the bed with his back against the bedframe, arms loosely crossed and his eyes on your chair, it wasn’t as if he could see you to begin with but it was still making you warm in a lot of ways you were not familiar with, “Well?” He raised a brow, his lips curling into that wicked smile on his as he asked. 

“You’re unbelievable!” You cried out, turning back around in your chair as you huffed, damn him! Damn him because he was absolutely right, you weren’t about to leave this room tonight and you certainly weren’t about to disrupt Wheein in the middle of the night especially after you dismissed her! 

Straightening up you unwrapped the towel from yourself before pulling the dress over your head, it was odd, because while it felt foreign, a distant part of yourself relished in the comfort the flowy loose material gave you.

The material brushed just at your mid thigh making you smile, this was the same length as your sleepwear before you had been married. Maybe…maybe you had just overreacted, true you weren’t used to having a bed partner but well…It couldn’t be all that bad, could it?

Yes, after all you were married, it wasn’t as if any of this was actually scandalous in nature. 

Slipping the panties up you stood up to pull them up all the way not meaning to flash your husband but you felt incredibly indignant when you heard a whistle from him making you immediately turn around, your face burning up as you glared at him, “Just because we’re married doesn’t give you the right to just....! Just…! Stare!” 

Jungkook lifted his hands up as he chuckled at your flusteredness, tugging at the slip self consciously, just how did you wear such short and loose clothing all the time without feeling so self conscious before?

You thought about it briefly but you supposed it was just because it was Eunoia, people didn’t look at you…at all when you wore something of this nature there, because it wasn’t seen as anything but normal. 

And yet somehow, you had never felt so exposed in front of a man before and you never imagined it would be like this...let alone in front of a man like this...husband or not you had remembered swearing on your wedding day that you’d never sleep with him. 

Oh the irony. 

“But if you didn’t want me too you would’ve said otherwise,” Jungkook shrugged casually as he yawned a sudden laugh erupting from his lips as if something occurred to him that seemed hilarious, “Nice ass by the way princess.” 

“Oh!” You stomped your foot trying to ignore your heart pounding out of your chest and your body fluttering in…Ugh! You hated the excitement that his stupid voice made you feel. 

It was even worse because Jungkook could clearly tell he was doing something to you, making him laugh even harder, obviously that was what had made him laugh in the first place…!

“Instead of pouting and just standing there expecting something besides crude humor from me you should just get in bed,” Jungkook sighed as he smiled, his eyes crinkled a little as he watched you, with wrapped arms around yourself as you walked awkwardly to the other side of the bed. 

You sat down before snatching the duvet, covering your legs as you puffed a breath, “I don’t know why it even bothers me, in Eunoia we always wore things of this nature.” 

You slumped a little as you tugged the covers further up to tops of your thighs, Jungkook yawned as he nodded, closing his eyes, “Hm I did notice that when we came to Eunoia. But you weren’t dressed like the others.” 

You shuffled a little closer to him as you stared down at your hand wrappings, “Well I did once upon a time but…Well, I was told…” You hesitated, “That I would be looked at differently outside of Eunoia if I ever wore any of our more traditional style of wear.” 

Jungkook opened his eyes, a frown on his face, “Looked at differently? Who told you that? Your mother? Because she…” He tucked his tongue into his cheek, raising his brows a little as if thinking your mother was…!

You smacked his arm with your wrist making a small smile tug on his lips, “No it…” You sighed as you shook your head, “Well, it doesn’t matter now, he was right after all. I was unaware at the time that the world just doesn’t work the same way Eunoia does. I never realized how lucky I was to live my life there, to be in a kingdom that doesn’t degrade me to nothing more than a vessel for…men to use, I suppose.” 

This made Jungkook frown but not for the reason you first thought, “Ah, it was him huh.” 

This made you do a double take, somewhat surprised at his words, “...What does that mean?” You shied away from his gaze, knowing full well who he was talking about, but it seemed like whenever Seokjin got brought up, it never ended well for you two…

Jungkook looked at you for a long moment before he sighed, “Seokjin of Kimhae,” He shook his head, as if the very name made him glare at his hands in disdain, “Out of everyone, it had to be him…” 

He sighed wistfully making you frown as you fiddled with your bandages, “Jungkook…why do you not like Seokjin? He…” Your eyes softened a little, “He had his faults, for sure but, well I did love him once upon a time.” 

Jungkook seemed to mull over your words for a long while, not saying anything as if he were evaluating just what to say, “...Seokjin is not who he pretends to be,” Was all he said, “He’s boastful and arrogant, he often peacocked around us, acting as if he was above me and my country. As if I was some scum of the earth that deserved death simply for being born.” 

Jungkook’s eyes burned into his hands, “Truthfully I didn’t care for the longest time, people’s words rarely bother me…” His lips curled into a bitter smile, “But knowing he was your lover…?” 

Jungkook’s lip twitched, “Knowing who he is, and that he tried to sink his teeth into you…” He inhaled sharply.

“He didn’t-” 

“But he did,” Jungkook cut you off sharply as he gestured towards your slip, “You just told me you were convinced to not wear your own country's attire. You didn’t have to say his name for me to know it was him who told you to do so.” 

You relented with a sigh, shaking your head softly, “That was my choice in the end, I won’t let anyone else take the blame for my choices….I do suppose however…” It felt tough to swallow but you couldn’t deny the merit of his words, “That you are right, Seokjin tried to persuade me on a lot of things, and because I loved him, I wanted to please him. I think it’s only natural…Or I suppose I thought I loved him.” 

Jungkook’s gaze only briefly flickered to yours as he murmured, “You thought?” 

This made you smile softly as you nodded, “Well of course, he was my first love, my only love. So it’s all I ever knew, but the more I look back, the more I come to terms with the idea that me and him…I don’t know,” You ushered softly, “Perhaps things happened the way they were meant to be.”

Sleep had come surprisingly easy, having such an emotionally taxing day…Well you weren’t surprised yourself, your entire body felt lethargic and tired and you had sleepily woken up a long while ago yet kept your eyes shut, enjoying the distant chirp of birds despite the cloudy day staving the sun away.

A hand brushed against your lower back, closer to your hip then you anticipated, but something about the touch made your body further relax. 

A content wiggle escaped you as you sighed, unconsciousness tugging at you to let yourself fall back asleep as you shifted against once more against Jungkook who seemed to make a noise of possible complaint.

“Stop that…” you could hardly make out his mumbled words, riddled with sleep.

This made your lips curl a little as you felt his arm fully wrap around you, his hand now curled around your waist and you could feel the bare skin of your thighs brushing along the fabric of his pants, somewhere last night your slip must’ve lifted up, but currently you weren’t going to stress over it, especially since you were covered up with a blanket. 

And it was so warm under its cozy covers, you nudged the crook of his neck a little, trying to hide your smile as you shifted one last time to situate yourself.

“Ugh Princess fuck.”

You nearly squeaked out at your hips having gotten too close to his and rather than getting comfortable to nap once more, you found something thick and hard that was dangerously close to your cunt, panicked arousal was already clinging to your panties as you jolted, “I…! I’m- I'm sorry! I didn’t mean too…!”

You could feel your face throb as your eyes met Jungkook’s, he was laid on his back and his eyes had cracked open as he yawned almost too casually, “It’s not your fault I was already hard before you woke up anyways. Just maybe don’t do…that.” He sighed.

But despite his words Jungkook’s hands had a firm grip on your waist now, not about to let you get any further away from him then you already had as you somewhat propped yourself up in disbelief.

“What!? How-…?” You stared at him in silent demand and somewhat confused. How could he be…? Before you were even awake? 

Jungkook stared up at you for what felt like forever, but slowly you watched his lips curve just a little, a smirk adorning his lips and his eyes were lidded as he puffed a breath of amusement, “Were you not taught male anatomy?” 

You could feel your cheeks rush with blood that made them throb as your eyes twisted into an embarrassed glare, “Of course I wasn’t! What kind of question is that?” 

What you hadn’t realized was the now somewhat compromising position you put yourself in, your lower body straddling his abdominal and your hands resting on his chest, not fully aware your thighs were completely exposed and your breasts were almost spilling out of your slip. 

Jungkook let out a sigh that suspiciously sounded almost like a moan as he closed his eyes, “You gotta stop staring at me like that princess.” 

“Like what?” Your lips tugged into a sulky pout, now feeling flustered that you should be less naive about these things, but you couldn’t help it…! You never went as far as to let Seokjin stay in your room at night when he came to visit in Eunoia. How were you supposed to know that this…happened naturally…? 

You jolted at Jungkook’s hand suddenly grabbing your chin, forcing you closer to him as you grabbed his chest once more to catch yourself, Jungkook’s lips curled into a more wicked smirk this time as he whispered, “Like you wanna fuck me.” 

“Jeon Jungkook!” 

He knew how you’d react but watching how flustered it made you had him gagging out laughing as you managed to grab a pillow to smack him with, “How dare you!” Albeit your blows were weak as you struggled to properly grip the pillow in sake of not disturbing your wounds which were already beginning to throb in irritation. 

Jungkook grabbed the pillow from you making you tumble back against him, but now you were acutely aware of the position you were in, fumbling as you spoke flustered, “Jungkook…” This time however, your voice wasn’t nearly as strong as it was, something stirring in your stomach at the way he kept wolfishly staring at you. 

As if amused, as if aroused. 

It was making your hands tremble and an ache throb between your legs, just the embarrassment alone at that feeling that was slowly becoming all too familiar made it difficult to even hold Jungkook’s gaze. 

Jungkook’s hand squeezed around your chin tightly, forcefully turning your head to whisper in your ear, his warm breath tickling against your skin, “Hmm, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you find this attractive.” 

It had your hands coiling around his shirt helplessly as you tried to not let yourself get any more flustered from his aggressiveness.

“What would give you that impression?” You gritted your teeth but your words hardly came out like a bite. 

“Where do you want me to start?” Jungkook replied right back. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were the one who finds this attractive.” You glared at him but you were aware your expression looked anything but menacing, you could barely hold yourself together when he was holding you against him like this. 

Jungkook stared at you for a long moment, some of his aggressive motions seemed to loosen a little before a lazy smirk tugged back on his lips, “Maybe. Wouldn’t you like to know princess?” 

If you weren’t flustered before you certainly were now, unable to escape his grip on your hips you did the only thing you could, collapse back down against him, hiding away against his neck where you could feel his laugh escape.

“Stop…! This is hardly appropriate, can’t you just make it go away…?” Your voice came out like a sulky whine, trying to ignore how hot your body had suddenly began burning. 

This made Jungkook snort, “We’re married, I don’t think anything we could do would be considered scandalous…Hm…I can make it go away but I don’t know if you’d like what that would entail.” 

“What’s that supposed to- Ah…!” Your original thought was cut off into a quiet moan as Jungkook’s hand tangled into your hair, grabbing a thick chunk as he gave it a slight pull, an almost pleasant feeling being sent straight to your cunt as he whispered in your ear. 

“Or maybe you would. Ugh, fuck I can feel how much your thigh’s are clenching, if you want it to go away you’re more then happy to help.” 

“I’m just fine!” You squeaked out at how forward he was suddenly being, you couldn’t even fully comprehend how you got yourself into this position. Not that it was a bad one but…Well you certainly hadn’t foreseen this happening. 

“Oh? You didn’t seem to mind helping Seokjin?” Jungkook’s voice came out like a taunt and you could feel his hips jut upward in a seeking thrust, “How is this any different hm? Go on, I’m waiting.” 

He was being so mean…! 

You whined out almost pathetically at how harsh your cheeks were throbbing and your body was burning up and an embarrassing amount of arousal clung to your panties as you cried out against his skin, “Everything is different with you! It’s- It’s not the same at all..!” 

Your face felt incredibly hot and a shameful small moan escaped your lips at his hands grabbing your hips, pulling them back down against his, you could feel his cock throbbing almost painfully, confined in his pants. 

Your mind was becoming hazy and filled with the only thing you could describe was lust. 

“I don’t see why it shouldn’t be,” Jungkook almost growled out, his fingers digging into your skin, “After all, he was the one making sure everyone knew how well you treated him.” 

“He- ah..! He wouldn’t…” You whimpered at your hips finally caving in, grinding down against his thick bulge, pleasure spiking in your body making a whined moan escape you, “Jungkook…!” You mumbled pathetically against him.

Your entire body felt weak and your hands were shaking from all the nervous energy that was coursing through your body, you were really doing this right now…?  

“Fuck, good girl.” Jungkook moaned softly, his hands encouraging your movement and just that singular word had your body frantically rutting against his. Your forehead was pressed into his shoulder and your lips were parted at the spikes of pleasure that came in waves at the friction that throbbed against your cunt. 

“Mmph! Jungkook…Ah…” Your voice was broken and whimpered as your hands curled into fists against his chest, your legs trembling at the feeling of your cunt soaking arousal through your panties, beginning to make a mess on his thick heady imprint, “Please…!” 

“Please what?” Jungkook had a wicked smile on his face as he grabbed at your hair once more, giving it a soft yank to expose your neck to him, his tongue dragging hotly against your skin before he ushered a moan against it, “What do you want princess? Go on, look me in the eyes and tell me what you want.” 

You rapidly shook your head at the sight of those icy blue eyes meeting yours, your entire body lit on fire at your head barely being lifted from the hazy cloud it had been buried in at the realization of just what you were doing right now and the possible repercussions it could have on your relationship with Jungkook. 

And with that realization the stark reality had come back to haunt you, a sudden uncomfortable feeling sunk into your stomach and panic rose in your chest, “What’s wrong?” You hadn’t even realized tears had begun to blur your vision until Jungkook appeared almost alarmed. 

Immediately sitting up as he took hold of you in a gentle grasp and if you didn’t feel embarrassed before you certainly did now, embarrassed and stupid. 

You couldn’t even look at him as you grasped your face trying to stop from letting tears drip down your cheeks as you struggled to let air into your lungs, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Jungkook almost demanded, his hands grabbing at your wrists though he didn’t pull them away from your face. 

You shook your head as your lips quivered, feeling stupider by the minute as he asked, “Why are you crying?” 

“It’s stupid…” You ushered out timidly as you shook your head. 

You could hear Jungkook sigh, his hands softening on your wrists as he spoke, “It’s not if you’re crying.” 

It was silent for a moment as you tried to gather your thoughts, hesitantly lowering your hands from your face as you peered at him timidly before your gaze dropped, “I…We’ve worked so hard to get to this point, to make this work. I don’t want to lose your interest now if I…if we…” 

Jungkook stared at you blankly for a long moment before he spoke, almost confused, “What the hell are you talking about?” 

You groaned with a pout, eyes still watering as you spoke, “I- I- If we….you won’t…” 

Jungkook sighed through his nose as he rubbed his face, “If we have sex that won’t change a single thing Y/n.” He puffed a breath almost amused as he looked up at your worried eyes, “I don’t view you as some kind of conquest- I would never view you that way.” He reached out, thumbing a tear that rolled down your cheek as you closed your eyes. 

His words were sweet and yet you somehow felt even worse, “..’m sorry, I ruined the moment-” 

“Stop,” Jungkook chided you, his eyes now reprimanding, “What did I say about all of these apologies? You didn’t ruin anything, I don’t want you in any way if you aren’t completely comfortable with it. And I don’t have any expectations of this in the future unless you want it.” 

You ushered a cry softly as Jungkook sighed in exasperation, looking mildly awkward as he ran a hand through his ruffled hair, “...You can’t keep doing this to me.” He mumbled. 

You rubbed the tears from your eyes as you murmured, “Do what?” 

“This.” Jungkook gestured at your face- or presumably your tears, he looked awkward as he sighed once more, “I don’t know what else to do other than tell you I…” His nose wrinkled, “...Don’t mind your company, clearly. But I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with if you think it’ll keep my attention. You already have it. But I also don’t want you to stop yourself from doing something you want, in fear of messing up.” 

“But…!” Your lips jutted, “It’s easy for you to say that! You’re not the one that has to deal with your anger! That isn’t…I would like to avoid that if possible.”

This made Jungkook snort in amusement, “Well princess, I’m the one who has to deal with your anger, which is just as unpleasant. But we’ve dealt with one another like this from the day we met. Messing up is a part of getting to know one another. And truthfully I think this would be far from messing up.” 

He had that stupid small boyish smile of his on his face that made you look away somewhat bashfully as you gave him a gentle shove, “...You don’t think so..? That this…wouldn’t be a bad thing?” 

“Why would it?” Jungkook asked, and he looked genuinely confused, “You’re my wife.”

The sentence made something flutter in your stomach, the way Jungkook said it so naturally, as if there wasn’t even the slightest hesitation in his voice, as if it was always meant to be this way. 

His confidence gave you confidence that, perhaps he was right about this. 

You shifted a little in his lap before you shrugged, “Just because we’re married doesn’t mean anything.” 

“No,” Jungkook hummed in thought and if you listened closely, you could hear the slightest hesitation in his voice, “But that doesn’t mean it can’t.”  

His words were ushered out softly, nothing more than a whisper and his eyes locked onto the door, as if worried someone could possibly hear you both in this moment. There was a certain shyness in the air now and neither of you could look the other in the eye anymore. 

And in timely fashion, a knock on the door nearly made you jump out of your skin, fumbling off his lap as you could hear Wheein on the other side asking for permission to come in. That was right, today was a new day after all.

And yet you couldn’t help but want to focus on a presence that was quickly slipping through your fingers.

Just because you were married, didn’t mean anything, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t…

“Are you certain of this Jungkook?” The question came from Namjoon.

There was a silence that permeated in the air as Jungkook sunk into his seat, all of his closest friends and what he considered family huddled up in his former handlers’ study. 

“I’m not,” Jungkook admitted, a frown on his lips as he shook his head, “But I can’t overlook the possibility that we may have a traitor amidst the court. It would have to be someone inconspicuous though. I can’t bring this to my family’s attention yet, not until we have solid proof.” 

“Where would we even start with something like this though?” Jimin frowned as he chimed in, “We can’t just go interrogating royals, and poking around any bedrooms will have us in the dungeon.” 

“Is it possible we could service some of the maids then?” Hoseok replied, “Wheein would be able to scour any rooms of possible suspects, no questions asked.”

Jungkook had leaned back in his seat, a hand on his chin in thought as he shook his head, “It would still be too risky to involve anyone on the outside. If word got out about a possible traitor amongst the court everyone would be in an uproar. Wheein wouldn’t say anything but that doesn’t change the fact that maids talk.” 

The idea made Jungkook sigh as he ran a hand through his hair, “And it would be too big of a task to ask her to do it by herself regardless.” 

“Not to mention the Princess has been granting her extra time off to attend her ailing mother, I don’t know if she would be able to take on the extra responsibility.” Taehyung spoke up.

This however caused Jungkook to shift a little, extra time off…? “What?” He spoke, his gaze narrowing on Taehyung in question. 

This made Taehyung tilt his head in curiosity as he explained, “Yes, the Princess has been very kind in allowing Wheein to tend to her mother during some of her hours she was supposed to attend the Princess.” 

This made Jungkook frown immediately his gaze dropping to the table with a troubled look, it wasn’t that he was upset by what you had done, the very opposite in fact, he took pleasure in knowing you were being kind and tender to your personal maid. But…well with the looming threat of someone wanting you dead…

Jungkook would never admit it out loud but he had taken comfort in knowing that whenever he wasn’t with you during the day, that Wheein was at your side, if he could trust anyone with a sword, it would be her. 

Of course he hadn’t given her any formal instruction to keep you safe but…well he felt he didn’t need too, he saw the way you both interacted, he knew Wheein would do so on her own accord but…This information was troubling for him. Because if she wasn’t with you, that meant you were alone, for presumably long hours. 

“Is something troubling you Sire?” Namjoon frowned as he asked, glancing at Jungkook across the table. 

“Yes,” Jungkook admitted, “If Wheein is tending to her mother then that mean’s Y/n is alone during the day and this…” He sighed, “If I could have it my way I’d want either Jimin or Hoseok with her during the day but I cannot afford to have either of you on the sidelines right now. But I don’t know who else I could trust with keeping her safe.” 

It was silent for a long moment before Jimin suddenly perked up, “Oh…! Yoongi should be back from his tour soon! Perhaps we could fill him in on the details when he arrives, I’m sure he’d be happy to finally relax and accompany the Princess during the day.” 

Jungkook seemed to perk a little at this as well, tilting his head a little, “Really? I thought he wasn't going to come back until next Spring?” 

“The stirring on the west has caused the expansion to come to a halt,” Hoseok frowned in thought, “That’s probably why he’s coming back early.” 

Jungkook frowned at this, yes that was right, scouts had detected a stir in activity from Prokofiev and this was part of the reason his aunt was back home as well. Something just didn’t sit right with him though, about all of this. 

“Very well.” Jungkook replied, “I’ll speak with him myself when he arrives then, when is his estimated arrival date then?” 

“Within the next two weeks.” Jimin replied, “If that’s taken care of then, perhaps we should move on to the more…unsavory news…” He glanced at Hoseok who also sighed at this. 

This made Jungkook frown as well, “What of it?” 

“There was a breach in the southern border.” Hoseok said. 

This made Jungkook nearly jolt in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he asked, “A breach? By whom?” 

“One of our own,” Hoseok sighed, slumping in his chair as if a memory was plaguing him, “I went to investigate myself and they said it was likely one of the squire’s from the knighthood. Which means…” 

“Our assassin has taken his leave.” Jungkook’s lips twitched in anger as his fists curled, inhaling sharply, “That we know of right now.” He shook his head but anger simmered in his veins, “It doesn’t matter anymore,” He growled, “I want to know who sent him. Because if we can’t figure out who it is, they’ll only hire more assassins to do their bidding, and until then Y/n won’t be safe.”

“If I may Sire,” Taehyung gestured as Jungkook nodded, “Perhaps we’re looking in the wrong place. It may be a royal but…” He faltered for a second, “I fear it may be someone in an even bigger position than that.” 

“An outside influence?” Namjoon asked as he tilted his head. 

“Perhaps,” Taehyung replied as he shook his head, “I can’t describe it but…I feel very strongly the presence of a much darker force at play here then we can understand.”

Jungkook glanced at the table in thought for a moment before he spoke, “We’ll start with the postal system first, I doubt any plots of murder would be on paper but perhaps we can narrow down a group, or person first to begin the hunt. This can’t be the doing of just one person, something bigger is at play right now.”

The thought made Jungkook’s lips twitched, “And I intend to win. You’re all excused, do not let this take up your entire day, you all still have daily duties to attend to as do I. Be discreet, we’ll all meet back here by the end of the week to report out findings.” 

“Good because I need to attend to the Princess now,” Taehyung ushered as he glanced at the clock, realizing he was bordering late to his morning routine. 

Jungkook nodded, waving him away as he opened the door to find his servant Taehyun about to knock, “...Yes?” 

“Um...” Taehyun frowned, “We were disposing of the Ashe Wolf like you asked us too but...we ran into a problem and well...I thought it would be best to just let you come take a look for yourself.” 

Jungkook sighed at this, rubbing his face but gestured his servant to lead the way, it was difficult to believe daily duties still existed in times as troubling as these.

“Your hands are healing nicely,” Taehyung hummed out, a pleasant smile on his face and he was indeed right, your hands had come a long way since the accident had first happened. 

You glanced down at them right a brief smile before it slowly faded, your stomach churning unpleasantly at the sight of scarring that was beginning to form in place of your skin.

You cleared your throat a little, a weak smile tugging on your face as you asked, “Does this mean I’ll be able to start my training once more.” 

“Soon yes,” Taehyung nodded, “I still need to speak with the Prince about it. But I expect you to be able to as early as next week.” ‘

Finally, good news was in the air as you relaxed a little with a nod, letting him finish wrapping your bandages before he took his leave. Wheein had just re-entered the room from an errand she had to run for him, handing him over a satchel before he nodded and exited the room. 

“How’s your mother Wheein?” You asked out softly. 

Wheein offered a small smile of gratitude, “Better, she’s still very weak, but better. I can’t thank you enough for allowing Taehyung to help m’lady.” 

You folded your hands into your lap as you shook your head, “There’s no need for so much thanking, I’d do it again in a heartbeat if needed. Please do what you need to in the meantime to aid her health.” 

Wheein had been continuously thanking you for what you did, but truthfully you felt as if it was the least you could do for her given how patient and sweet she had been to you since the beginning of your stay in Penumbra. 

Wheein only nodded once more thankful for your kindness before she began to get you dressed, “Oh…! The prince caught me on the way back to the castle, he asked for me to escort you to the stables.” 

You tilted your head curiously, glancing at Wheein through the mirror as you asked, “Is…Is that allowed? I mean…” You sighed, “I suppose if it was by his request it is but…” Well tension was still lingering since the assassination attempt. 

Jungkook had left earlier than you which you could only assume he must have gone to meet with the others about the whole ordeal, the entire event may have felt like it had been long ago, but it was still fresh in your mind and everyone was still on high alert. 

“If you’re safe with anyone, it would surely be the Prince.” Wheein gave you a small smile as she finished the final touches of your wardrobe, “Speaking of…” A more mischievous look twisted on her face, “That was an awfully short nightgown to be wearing last night.”

You sucked in a harsh breath of air, trying to not let the flustered expression show on your face but it was too late, Wheein was covering her giggles as you spoke, “Was it him? Did he specifically get a nightgown tailored for me?” 

Wheein grinned at this as she shook her head, “No actually, I believe that was from your original wardrobe when you first came to Penumbra. You had never requested to wear it though so I had just kept it in the back of your closet for safe keeping. It must’ve accidentally gotten tangled up in the bunch when I was going through to pack for your stay in here.” 

You chewed on your lip before you admitted, “It did seem familiar, I haven’t worn it in ages though. I almost forgot what it was like,” You let out a brief smile, “Still though,” A pout tugged on your lips, “He didn’t let go of the chance to tease me about it.” 

This made Wheein smile once more, “A good sort I hope?” 

You mulled over her words, a more shy smile tugging on your lips as you glanced at your lap with a shrug, “I suppose it is.” 

It was actually rather nice being able to take a walk outside the castle for once, it was a rather sunny day though clouds scattered the sky looking gray meaning rain would surely make its return as the day went on.

Stepping outside the gates of the castle felt…forbidden almost, you looked around hesitantly as Wheein led the way happily, but her eyes were sharp, as if enjoying the sunshine but still vigilant as ever. 

The stables were just a little further from the guardsman quarters and soon enough she guided you over, you could already see Jungkook inside, hauling a bale of hay over what looked like some sort of makeshift pen. 

“I have other duties to attend so I’ll leave you to attend with the Prince if that’s okay…” Wheein peered at you, hands folded as if truly making sure you would be okay with that. 

You offered a small smile, “Of course, don’t let me keep you.” You waved her off as you stepped inside the stables, your voice drawing Jungkook’s attention.

And you noticed the smallest thing, his eyes which had been previously squinted in that broody look he always wore, seemed to almost melt away immediately, his eyes brightening a little at the sight of you and his expression seemed to perk, just the slightest. 

To the untrained eye, it may have gone unnoticed, but not for you. 

This made a smile you couldn’t resist tug on your lips, “Rather bold of you to let me come outside the castle gates. I’m surprised.” 

This made Jungkook snort, “We’re a short distance from the gates…” But he stopped short as his expression dimmed a little as he sighed, “...I’ll tell you more of the details later but I don’t think we’ll need to be as worried about any future assassinations as we have been.” 

“Oh?” You tilted your head with a frown, now wondering why he wouldn’t just tell you now. 

“I didn’t call you here to discuss that though, this…” Jungkook looked away from you with an exasperated sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck and dare you say he…almost seemed…bashful?

“I have a…surprise,” Jungkook finally seemed to admit, “For you.” A brief smile tugged on his lips, “I think you’ll like it.” 

“For me?” You raised your brows with a smile. 

“Yes, when I was in a meeting this morning Taehyun came to report something to me, it’s about the ashe wolf…Or well…” Jungkook gestured you over as you came to stand beside him before you gasped out as he continued, “More like what they discovered she had been carrying.” 

You could feel your words stuck in your throat at the beautiful thick grey fur and big puppy eyes that stared back up at you, just the realization made tears sting in your eyes as your heart ached, “Oh she was protecting her pup.” 

You immediately reached out as the ashe wolf pup sniffed your hand curiously before licking it, making you giggle as your smile softened, rubbing your hand between it’s ears. It looked like a full grown dog but it was so little for an ashe wolf. 

“When the guards were cleaning up the mess this morning they discovered it in the pocket hide of the wolf, the moment they reported it to me I took it here first thing to build somewhere to keep it until we could give him a proper pen of his own.” Jungkook explained. 

Your eyes widened as you glanced up at him, “We’re keeping it?” 

This made the tiniest of smiles tug on Jungkook’s lips, “I know how much it meant to you to try and keep the wolf safe, I feel like this is the best apology I can give for what happened.”

A small smile tugged on your lips, feeling somewhat bashful at his words as you continued to pet the pup, “It wasn’t your fault what happened…There’s no need to apologize over it, but…” Your smile began to grow as your eyes almost glittered in excitement, “I really do appreciate this Jungkook. Thank you.” 

The pup however was now busy chasing it’s own tail before you extended your arm out further gaining it’s attention, it’s big wet nose nudging you before happiness thrumming in your chest as it nudged your hand for another pet.

Jungkook had leaned against the side of the wall, a soft smile on his lips as he watched you squeal as you rubbed your hand against the bridge of its nose and the more you thought about it the more your chest squeezed in a sort happiness that you weren’t sure you had ever experienced before. 

“Really, I mean…I can’t tell you how much this means to me.” You grinned out as you finally pulled away from the pup as you looked at Jungkook, who seemed quite satisfied with your reactions thus far. 

“I don’t think you need too,” Jungkook looked amused as he raised a brow, “I can quite literally see how much you like it.”

But it just filled you with so much more glee, your hands were nearly trembling at how much excitement filled you...Jungkook chose to keep the pup just...for you? It made your whole body feel warm and fuzzy and in a fit of happiness you turned to face him fully before nearly throwing yourself at him. 

Your arms curling around his neck as you squealed out in excitement and your heart was skipping beats in your chest as a shyness coiled in you, “No really! Thank you. This means the world to me.” 

Jungkook’s body stiffened upon contact with you as he stared down at you somewhat in bewilderment before he slowly relaxed once more, still somewhat awkward as he was unsure where to place his hands before settling around your waist. 

He wouldn’t deny, out of all the times he wished he had your thanks. For the first time, it felt very fulfilling to hear. But he wasn’t even truly focused on your words anymore, just that he realized, he really enjoyed seeing you smile. 

[zorkaya-moved]

What can be expected from Zarina’s FFXIV verse? 

An Elezen, born and raised in Ishgard. She was exiled from Ishgard around ten years ago when she was twenty two years old. Currently, she is thirty two years old. (She is your resident onee-san)  

Zarina has adapted a new surname of ‘Sokolova’ upon leaving Ishgard. Her original name has been stripped off her and she does not speak of it to anyone. Her brothers have also been stripped off their title and name, but left alive despite her committing a crime against the Holy See. 

She was praised as one of the most skilled warriors and possessed an overwhelming aura of leadership and charm. She was considered to become one of the Heavens’ Ward for her outstanding abilities alongside with her being seen as Halone’s Champion if not an avatar of Halone herself.

Zarina was known as “the Fury” and she has been consistently compared to Halone for her abilities, for her skills, and for her strong will. She had a large following of knights and citizens on her side, including some from the Brumes as well. People have praised her and hailed her as the future leader and they spoke highly of her up until her exile. She was once considered as the youngest contender to the title of Lord Commander of Temple Knights. The group who opposed Aymeric’s ascension to the title in Heavens’ Ward (as mentioned by Lucia) consisted of 60% of those who were loyal followers of Zarina. They consider her exile to be the doings of the higher houses without knowing the truth, still waiting for their leader to come back even after ten years. 

She is in possession of Echo, and a very potent one at that. It caused her to learn the ‘truth’ behind Dragonsong War and Archbishop’s past. Without knowing exactly what her visions were caused by, she decided to commit a crime against the Holy See to be exiled and disowned by the government. She created a riot against the Archbishop but was quickly subdued and then sent out into exile, never to return to Ishgard and to never be considered a person once born and raised within those walls. Yes, instead of carrying out the vision and trying to overthrow the government, Zarina made a choice of being forced out of her own homeland in exchange for ‘freedom’ for herself and ‘salvation’ for her brothers, so they will not be punished for her crimes. She knew very well none will believe her views. 

The betrayal caused an uproar and many within Ishgardian walls, leaving to many people separating on how they treat the ‘Fallen champion of Halone’ inside the city. Some people remember her as the leader worth following and some say that she is a traitor to their city who should’ve been killed instead of exiled. 

After learning the truth of the Dragonsong War from her vision, Zarina remained in Dravania for a couple of months, trying to understand dragons. She also tried to prove herself as someone who knew the ‘truth,’ even if she wasn’t able to fully grasp it at that time. By doing so, she gained the ‘do not kill right away’ status among dragons as she made sure to become allies with them even if it meant spending years upon years building trust between them. 

Zarina traveled across Eorzea on her own until she was recruited by Louisoix Fourchenault. She also learned from Minfilia more about her Echo and learned the mission of Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Despite not being all for the salvation of the world, she accepted the job and became one of the Scions. She has been with them for nine years, being one of the best fighters but also someone who travels far and doesn’t stay much as she scouts the lands beyond to understand the balance of the world. 

As a traveler across the world and as a Scion of the Seventh Dawn, Zarina was able to expand the territory where Scions are known around and where they could find allies. Countless people came forward because of Zarina’s scouting and her influence. Unlike Minfilia, though, she did not only make them pledge loyalty to Scions, many people pledged their loyalty specifically to Zarina. She was someone who radiated leadership and strength before those who wanted to reach the top or save those they loved. As someone whose main importance relies on ‘family,’ she found people who would become her own secret team and who would infiltrate countless regions for her own sake, creating a more extensive information web called A.S.H. 

IMPORTANT DETAILS:

In Ishgard, Zarina was hailed as HALONE’S CHAMPION and people still refer to her as one alas quietly and only with the closes ones. From her silver hair to her golden eyes to her skills, people have truly regarded her as the epitome of power that Ishgardians worshipped in their goddess Halone, The Fury. This is only a title, there are no connections between her and one of the Twelve. People truly believed her to be the Halone that was sent to them to lead them forward. 

Zarina represents the opposite approach of Minfilia. If Minfilia is the Sun, Zarina remains the Moon. She works in the shadows of Scions and she travels across the wide world even beyond Aldenard. All of the complications of her work are not known to all Scions as she keeps tight lip about what she does, which doesn’t go away from torture, killing, spying, and more. She is known as one who mastered the skill of disguise, able to slip through many’s fingers and not being found. This is another reason why she was not seen much in The Walking Sands or The Rising Stones, she doesn’t stay for long and prefers to always be on her feet. 

She has appeared shortly during ARR but joined the Warrior of Light, Alphinaud, and Tataru before Heavensward arc started. Zarina remains in disguise while going in and out of Ishgard during that time, keeping search of Scions. 

Not many were actually close to Zarina but many have heard about her and spoke highly of her skills, but not exactly of her personality. Without the wish to explore the possible pre-established relations with the Scions, not many of them have met Zarina personally. She only answered to Minfilia and Louisoix to Fourchenault, sending reports and being recruited by Louisoix himself after her exile from Ishgard. 

MAIN JOBS: 

o. REAPER.  Zarina has adapted the techniques with the voidsent and she is able to fight the Heavens’ Ward face to face thanks to that power consistently. It is speaking mostly as a way of her going against the church and against everything ‘holy’ that she once represented in the eyes of the ‘bloody’ Ishgard and its history. Unlike what many expect, the voidsent who Zarina works with on the battlefield is terrified of Zarina herself. It listens to her every word and does not disobey her, actually trembling when she orders it to stay back. The voidsent itself is bigger than seen from the usual reapers and unlike others, it is clad in a white cloak with golden claws. Drusilla knows Zarina personally from years ago when she first stepped into Ul’dah to learn the crafts that weren’t available in Ishgard. Drusilla - if meeting with Warrior of Light and Zarina at the same time - will mention that she is one that no one messed around with because unlike those in Ul’dah, her ambition for power is what makes even the voidsent tremble, which they do not mess around with. 

o. DANCER.  As a traveler, Zarina uses her craft in dancing and singing as a way to hide among the people. Instead of presenting herself as a warrior, she shows herself as an entertainer first and foremost, alluring people and making them lower their guard down. The chakram become deadly weapons in her wielding as it is known that despite wearing the robes and outfits of white, she may leave a bloody trail behind without getting tainted by the blood. The first time Warrior of Light meets Zarina, she will be a dancer in disguise, only Tataru will be able to recognize her. 

o. DARK KNIGHT.  Embrace the .darkness within yourself, enter the road of unforgiving mercilessness. Fray have spoken to the Warrior of Light about how all-consuming darkness could be, but what happens to those who control it and do not bend under it? Zarina walks the land of despair and solitude, she is alone because the road to power and ambition lies through countless sacrifices. The moment exile has been decided, it was the moment the road towards the top remained open.  

SUB JOBS: 

o. MACHINIST.  tba.

o. SAGE.  Upon entering Sharlayan years ago and making allies within the nation, Zarina was able to start studying the principles of aetherology, sorcery, and medicine. This path still remains new to her as she continues to study what has been allowed. She is nowhere near Archons’ levels of knowledge, spending more time reading and learning through those like Matoya (upon rare visits) and Y’shtola if she would be so kind to explain some of the moments regarding aetherology. 

[poptod]

The Dead Heed No Lies (Ch. 1)

Description: Your job isn't as simple as it was when you first started out. Before you know it, you're hunting down an old God who happens to be a kleptomaniac with an overgrown sense of justice, alongside a 4,000 year old corpse who occasionally commits first degree murder.

Notes: This is an older fic that I’ve decided to continue! I called it the ‘untitled NatM 4 movie’ so think of it like that. I have plans for this and I really hope I do this storyline justice because I just love it so much. Word Count: 2.3k

Chapter One: Life’s a Sham

You loved your job. No, truly, you did - working in a museum was one thing you knew you actually wanted in life. Still, keeping this in mind, you hadn’t exactly signed up for needing to complete a reorganization of every file in the whole goddamn museum within the span of a week.

How long had your boss worked at the place anyway? High time to retire, you thought, heading to the A section. And just because you worked at night didn’t mean he could abuse you any way he liked.

Long night ahead of me, you thought, wishing that you’d bought some sort of energy drink before clocking in. Instead, you took a bite of the scone you’d gotten, looking through the first box.

Aaron Copland, American musician, died 1990. You wondered why that was in there, it was pretty recent after all.

Aaron Burr, you understood that.

Oh, they were out of order.

You fixed them.

Moving on…

A few (more than a few) minutes later, actual exhibits in the museum.

The giant Anubis statues guarding the King Ahkmenrah exhibit, those needed to be reordered. AH came before AN. Even though the Pharaoh exhibit had been moved away.

‘Anubis, an ancient Egyptian deity is connected mainly with the underworld, being the guardian of the underworld, referred to as Duat. He protects the dead, ushering them into the underworld, like a modern day reaper. He is also the god of embalming, and is believed to have invented the process. He has two forms - one, man like, with the head of a jackal, ears alert and sporting a red ribbon. His other form is that of a jackal or a black dog, the fur color a stark difference from the brown of jackals.’

Why am I reading this? I know this already. I have a goddamn major in Egyptian mythology.

American Civil War, that was in the right place.

Ancient Egypt.

Ancient Greece.

Anglo-Saxons, what was that doing there? Belonged in the British museum of history. Though, you supposed it didn’t hurt to have a little European history in America.

Anne of Cleves.

Austro-Hungarian Army.

Bayeaux Tapestry.

Boleyn, Anne.

Booth, Charles.

British Empire.

A wretchedly loud sound came from upstairs, like the stomping of hordes of elephants, all intent on making you crazy. You groaned to yourself, taking a deep steadying breath before continuing. Noises were none of your business. That was the security details’ issue. Though… looking to the side, you found a plastic knife, thinking it couldn’t hurt to be… armed? Could you consider a plastic knife being armed? You grabbed it anyway.

Calvin, John.

Caribbean History.

Castles of Britain, followed by Scotland and Wales.

Catherine of Aragorn.

Cattle Industry of America.

Charles the First.

China.

Civil War, America and English.

Cold War.

Crime and Punishment.

Danish Holocaust.

Dresden Bombing.

A loud honking of a horn, followed by a cacophony of party music. What the hell was going on up there?

You stood, fuming, the papers in your hands falling to the ground you were previously sitting on. Dealing with your lousy job was one thing, but having terrible upstairs neighbors at the same time? That was a whole other deal, and certainly not one you signed up for. With clenched fists still grasping the plastic knife you stormed towards the door leading to the stairs, which would take you into the break room, which in turn would lead to the lobby.

The trek up the stairs took a little bit out of you, but you continued, panting lightly and still fuming with anger. Before you could open the door to the main room though, McPhee entered the break room, laughing to himself.

“Sir?” You stopped, unclenching, hoping to not make a bad impression.

“Oh! Uh, you. What’s - what’s going on?” He asked, fumbling over his words like usual, playing with his hands in a dainty sort of way.

“It’s loud out there, I was wondering what was happening, sounds sort of…” you peeked out the half open door, trying to see what was out there, but he shut it far too fast to be considered ordinary. “Abnormal.”

“Yes, well, um, we’ve got uh, guests.”

“I know. From the British museum? Isn’t partying at midnight sort of… against the rules?” You asked cautiously, never knowing when he’d go full speech without knowing words on you.

“Right, it is, but -“

“McPHEE?!” A loud, female voice you didn’t recognize came from the other side of the door, loud pounding fists as its’ partner. “DEXTER STOLE THE KEYS AGAIN!” She panted for a moment, the pounding stopped. “I can’t find the bloody monkey and now he’s let out all the lions and they’re the only ones I don’t know what to do with.”

McPhee closed his eyes, letting out a quiet, tired breath. His facade, if you could call it that, and been broken, and it only left you more thoroughly confused than you had been  before.

“McPhee, are you in there??”

“Yes,” he hissed, prolonging the ’s’.

“Doctor, could you explain what exactly is happening?” You asked, starting to not care that he was now having two separate conversations with you and the woman behind the door. Apparently, someone had stolen the keys, and you had live lions in the museum which was COMPLETELY against regulations, and why did McPhee know about it? The man you knew would never allow animals into the museum.

“Is there someone else in there?!” The woman from behind the door rapped on it three times, presumably with her knuckles from the sharp sound. In the distance, you heard someone scream ‘goal,’ followed by an uproar of cheers.

“Are you playing soccer in there?” You asked him incredulously, not caring if he was the curator. No matter his rank, no matter how much you needed a job, you couldn’t stand for such misuse of a museum.

“Uh -“

The door opened before he could explain himself, the woman from the British museum stumbling through. She left the door wide open as she entered, keys grasped tight in her hand, letting you see outside.

A whole lot of people in costumes were running about, throwing a party. How in the world had McPhee authorized that?

“It’s not what it looks like,” he said quickly, his eyes rapidly switching between the woman and you.

“Really? Cause it looks like you’re throwing a party in a museum,” you said, eyes wide and your anger fully returned.

“Who are you?” The British woman turned to you, still out of breath and looking just about as confused as you were.

“I’m the archivist, and you are holding an illegal party, you’re not supposed to invite people onto the premises after -“

“Honestly, would you shut up and let me show you? We’re not holding a… party, or whatever you called it, it’s… something else,” McPhee said cryptically, obviously trying to hold back information. You were miffed, crossing your arms, and doubtful at his intentions. Still, he was your boss, and you ought to give him the benefit of the doubt. He hadn’t failed you yet. With a deep breath you slowly nodded, allowing the two of them to lead you out the door.

A dinosaur.

Made of bones.

An actual, live dinosaur was staring at you, and it wanted to play fetch.

“That’s, uh, Rexy, I believe Larry called him. Harmless, mostly,” McPhee explained, waving to the dead yet animate animal. It only stopped for a moment to notice the three of you before continuing to chase after a toy car, one of its’ bones tied behind it. Your mouth fell open in disbelief, eyes wide with a general panic that you knew consciously wasn’t deserved, but you couldn’t convince yourself of it.

The whole room was filled with historical figures, ones whose statues you’d stared at for so long as a child, in wonder and curiosity but now you no longer wondered, you no longer imagined - they were there. Whether you wanted it or not, they were there, and they were loud.

“That’d be the Huns, apparently it took your old night guard for-ever to get them to get along,” the woman said, shaking her head.

“Who… what…” you mumbled, in a daze of disbelief.

“The Tablet of Ahkmenrah,” the woman said in a dramatic voice, using jazz hands to accentuate the wonder, but it didn’t do much for you. You’d heard of the tablet, sure, but it wasn’t at your museum anymore. It had been transported to the British museum -

Oh. It all clicked together, why you hadn’t heard the noise before, why McPhee knew what was happening, what the cause was.

Of course, that’d be if magic was real.

“Show me,” you said, not wanting to completely discount their story. The woman looked utterly delighted, while McPhee looked mostly uncomfortable, fiddling with the bottom of his jacket, an awkward smile on his face. Your eye twitched as the two of you made eye contact. In less than a moment, you turned back, following the woman towards wherever she was taking you.

“What’s your name anyway?” You asked as she led you through a crowd of historical figures.

“Tilly. Yours?”

“Uh -“ You were quickly interrupted by Tilly, who ran into Christopher Columbus.

This can’t be happening, you thought to yourself, as Tilly apologized in Italian to Columbus. Columbus, made fully of silver black stone or steel, bowed his head with a smile, returning to his soccer game with the Neanderthals, who seemed quite excitable in the presence of Tilly.

“I, uh, this is -“

“A lot? I know. My first night taking care of my museum was, well, a disaster,” she laughed to herself, rolling her eyes in an ‘oh, you,’ sort of way. “Anyway, here we are!”

An empty, closed off room. The room mean to house the Pharaoh, who had been delivered to the British - what was she thinking?

“Oh, right,” she mumbled to herself, rubbing her chin methodically as she stared at the ground. You waited patiently, admiring the art of the room.

“Guess we’ll have to find the King himself, should be somewhere,” she said, pulling you by the wrist down the hallway. A few more turns and you were at the balcony of the lobby, and at the halfway point of one of the stairs, on the platform, was a man dressed in ancient Egyptian garb, golden robes flowing in a way unlike any cloth you’d ever seen. After all, a whole lot of old cloth was like that, well made, thin and light yet warm.

She led you down the staircase, stopping behind the King, who was apparently manning a DJ station.

You felt yourself get lightheaded. It simply wasn’t possible. It couldn’t happen, not physically. It disobeyed everything you ever knew, every wish you convinced yourself wouldn’t be fulfilled.

“Oh, hello!” The King turned around, having just been alerted of your presence by Tilly tapping him on the back. His gaze first landed on her, then on you, tilting his head to the side with a curious smile.

“My friend here is, uh, new. Doesn’t believe that all this is real,” Tilly explained, and the King gave her a knowing look, bending down to pick up what you assumed was going to be the tablet.

“I’m just an archivist, I don’t think I’m supposed to be here,” you said over the loud music, suddenly feeling quite like you were going to be sick. It felt too much like a fantastical story. You just read and studied fantastical stories. You didn’t star in them.

Yet, here you were, being handed a tablet made of pure gold.

“Uh… cool,” you breathed out, holding something in your hands that costed more than your life. As soon as opportunity let you, you gave it back to the King.

“I am Ahkmenrah,” his eyes flickered over to Tilly before coming back to you, resting soft and welcoming on yours. “What shall I call you?”

“Uh, (Y/N),” you stuttered, blinking furiously, as though it’d wake you up from a dream come true.

“Well, (Y/N), welcome to the party,” he laughed, turning back around to choose another song.

“I’m gonna sit down,” you whimpered, collapsing onto the steps behind you. Tilly looked like she was going to stop you, but decided against it, her hands coming back to her sides.

“I’ll let you catch your breath, okay?” She said with a smile, patting your back and leaving down the steps. You watched as she left, joining one of the Neanderthals in dancing.

“It’s a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?” The King said, sitting down beside you. Despite being dressed in royal clothing, and speaking in a rather posh manner, he acted human. In that moment, you appreciated it.

“Yeah… why, um, how do you speak, uh, English?” You asked, turning to face him.

“I went to Cambridge. As a display,” he said, quickly correcting himself. You nodded, turning to face forward again.

“I’ve never been to England,” you murmured. 

“It’s nice. Cold,” he joked, laughing to himself. You joined in weakly, still feeling overwhelmed. You continued staring forward for a while, letting yourself wonder if this was reality, or if you were hallucinating, but he must’ve noticed your silence as he cleared his throat.

“Would you like some water?”

“What?” You asked, turning to him, pulled out of your thoughtless trance. “No, I’m alright. It’s a lot.”

“I know. Imagine waking up in a coffin every night,” he joked, but it fell flat. It sounded flat out miserable.

“I’m going to go lie down,” you mumbled out, your voice cracking as you stood.  He immediately stood with you, before pausing, hesitant to follow you.

“Uh - I hope you, uh, feel better!” He called to you as you left down the stairs. Before he was out of earshot you heard him curse to himself, but you didn’t care to think what he was so troubled with. Was that a little cruel? Sure. Selfish? Definitely, but you’d just found out that all the exhibits were going to come to life at night, and that magic definitely existed and all those fictional Egyptian Gods you’d studied for so long were most likely real.

You needed time to process… and maybe to scream a little.

[kaibutsushidousha]

Which servant did you choose when playing Extra? Also, I'm curios to know if you think there are any other servants that would be interesting to see if they were summoned by Hakuno in Extra? Or maybe servants tht would be compatible with them other than Nero Tamamo Nameless

I went with Tamamo in the first playthrough and then Nero. I’ll save Nameless for Record because hopefully the game will be playable there. CCC was at least good enough to make me play all Servant routes.

As for other potential Servants for Hakuno, we already know compatibility got them with either Nero, Tamamo or Nameless, 3 anti-heroes. The former two being people fully dedicated to their close personal connections (even if in Nero’s case she feels a close personal connection to all Roman people) in almost complete disregard to morality or external circumstance. The latter is a wholly kindhearted person forced to kill others to survive. The parallels with Hakuno are pretty clear, especially with Nameless. So, running along with this line, we get:

Billy the Kid

This is one of weaker picks because I feel like it overlaps with Nameless a bit too much, as a sorta decent person turned brutal murder by the violent environment of their era. But like Hakuno and unlike Nameless, Billy is completely open about he considers himself an evil person. Normally I’d think a self-proclaimed evil partner (I’m thinking Drake or Moriarty) would encourage Hakuno’s worst habits, but I think Billy can work because we’ve already seen him on Lostbelt 1 taking this role of someone who makes the harsher, crueler calls for a kind and naive Master who still isn’t ready for it. Despite parroting Hakuno’s “I’m evil, actually”, I believe he wouldn’t encourage Hakuno to deny their own good nature. Instead he would encourage them to be rootin’, be tootin’, and by God be shootin’, but most importantly, be kind.

Miyamoto Musashi 

Same reasoning as Billy. The two had an entire conversation about in Anastasia. Also this one overlaps with Nero even harder than Billy overlaps with Nameless.

Yan Qing

Same reasoning as Billy and Musashi, this time without any real evidence. 

*Okita is another candidate for this same reasoning but I’ll keep her out of the list because her dynamic with Hakuno would be too much of a repeat of her dynamic with Kanata.

Dr. Jekyll

Another person trying really poorly to cope with a murder they’ve committed, but completely unlike Hakuno, Jekyll desperately tries to deny his evilness by framing as a separate side of himself completely alien to the gentleman doctor. I’ll admit I picked this one just for the potential Hakuno has to help Jekyll grow instead of the other way around.

Arjuna

The anti-Jekyll. Identical to Hakuno on how their characters are defined by committing war crimes once and never getting over it. Anyways, they are both actually really good people and have stubborn enough personalities to force each other acknowledge the good in themselves.

Ashwattaman

Fitting with how Yuga Kshehtra plays it itself as a CCC sequel, Pepe is a character designed to be extremely similar to Hakuno. So much so that I consider Ashwattaman to compatible with Hakuno for the exact same reasons he’s compatible with Pepe. Ash is a man who choose to embrace his flaws as hard as possible to maintain his grasp on his identity. He identifies as rage itself and aims to be the angry voice of indignation for those who feels like they don’t have the right to be angry. He’s there just to support people resigned to the cruelty fate forced upon them, and Hakuno is just as ripe of a partner for that as Pepe, so let him yell at Hakuno’s enemies in their stead.

Nagao Kagetora

Like Jekyll, I’m picking Kagetora just for Hakuno’s potential to support her, not the opposite. Kagetora’s backstory can easily be framed as a darker take on Hakuno’s character arc. They were both forced into situations where killing was necessary, but instinctively knew that killing is wrong. Hakuno pursued this dilemma incessantly for the first half their game until they found a satisfactory answer. Kagetora, on the other hand, just asked her family questions and got responded with a “You don’t have to understand, just follow this moral code to a T and you can look human enough even you don’t have a clue what being human is about”. Hakuno’s struggles to rationalize his own morality would clash heard with Kagetora’s whole deal and force her to make attempts to genuinely understand who she is and how she’s supposed to behave.

Nezha

Nezha is the best I can get in terms of a polar opposite to Hakuno. Hakuno sees themself as an evil person while remaining so concerned about the blood in their hands that it composes their entire character motivation. Nezha seems himself as a good and virtuous hero while constantly suggestion every problem in front of him should be solved with violence. Like with his self-proclaimed father above, the dynamic would a lot about Hakuno forcing their Servant to question things they were ok with not understanding, but I think the relationship here would be more balanced than it was with Kagetora.

Nightingale

You probably knew this was coming. I’ve talked about it before. Pairing Hakuno with unambiguously good people is not the best, yeah, but this is a valid exception because she’s my favorite Servant a character directly connected to CCC’s development background and themes, a solid match to Hakuno’s description of an ideal person, and someone exactly as self-destructive as they are. She’s easily my first pick for an additional Hakuno Servant and is only not the first on this list because I didn’t want to open with the odd one out.

Sakamoto Ryouma

Another match to Hakuno’s CCC description of the ideal person. The self-destructiveness is also there, but in a weirder and less direct way than it is with Nightingale. Again, I shouldn’t be assigning them unambiguously good people, but Ryouma is balanced by Oryou’s chaotic energy and the second half of this list already devolved into “characters I like a lot”, so why not.

On the subject of characters I like a lot, Arash fits just as well as Nightingale and Ryouma, but like Okita, he’s off because the dynamic would be too much of a repeat of his dynamic with Elsa.

[generallynerdy]

Our Little Secret Part 12 (Merlin & Child!Reader, Mordred X Reader)

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, and 11

Summary: (Y/N) recalls the dreaded events of the last few days, from which she returned to Camelot alone, despite having left with Mordred.

Key: (Y/N) - your name

Warnings: mind control, injuries, violence, death, blood, cliffhangers, the whole shebang

Word Count: 1,835

Note: i couldn’t justify mordred leaving of his own account very well without giving up (Y/N)’s secret and i have a better plan for that so??? have some mind control i guess,,,this ending is faster than i wanted it but whatcha gonna do aLSO CLIFFHANGER AGAIN AHAHAHAHAHA

    “(Y/N),” said a gentle voice.

    The young woman remained still, her eyes just as unmoving as she was. Those crowded in the room watched her with curiosity, though they stayed a good distance away from her chair. They had been dining in the hall when she arrived, beaten and bruised, completely abandoned in the forest without her horse or her companion, Mordred, who had left with her days ago.

    “I need you to tell me what happened,” the gentle voice spoke. It was Arthur, kneeling in front of her to meet her eyes. “Tell me everything.”

    (Y/N) inhaled shakily. “It– we– I don’t know. I don’t know. It happened so fast.”

    “Just take a deep breath,” he said. “Start from the beginning.”

    “We– Mordred and I– were hunting a troop of Saxons that was terrorizing the outlying villages; burning crops, killing men. It took nearly three days, but we found them and took care of the lot of them, so we began the journey home. We were a day’s ride from the citadel when we made camp for the night,” she told them.

    Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. “Were you attacked that far into the border?”

    “No,” (Y/N) said, finally looking up at him. Her voice cracked. “That’s just it– there was no attack.”

    “What do you mean?” Leon, who was also nearby, asked her cautiously.

    She grasped one arm with the opposite hand, almost shaking in her chair. “Something– something happened to Mordred. He woke the next morning convinced you, Arthur, had killed someone important to him.”

    “What?” Arthur glanced between the council members, then back to her. “Who?”

    “Kara. She was, uh, a druid girl. They grew up together, but he hadn’t seen her in years,” (Y/N) stuttered. “He was practically screaming, furious with you over a crime you hadn’t committed. I tried to ask him when and how he thought this happened, but he wouldn’t stop talking about how you would pay for it.”

    “And where did he go?”

    She shook her head. “I don’t know. He took the only horse we had and rode off. That’s why it took me so long to get here.” She looked up at him. “Arthur, you have to believe that wasn’t Mordred. I don’t know where he even heard the tale. He was not himself.”

    “I believe you,” he said, putting a hand to her shoulder. “Do you have any idea where he went?”

    (Y/N) froze and looked away from him. “Nowhere good, sire,” she muttered.

    “Where?”

    “He said something about finding Morgana.”

    In the following weeks, the war against Morgana became far more intense. Reports of a dark-haired sorcerer at her side came swarming in and they only made (Y/N) fight harder, for she knew her Mordred was not there willingly.

    When Arthur made the decision to ride out and meet Morgana’s forces at Camlann, (Y/N) readied herself for the fight of her life.

    Those last weeks had been difficult, searching for Mordred and avoiding Merlin with all her might. She was so focused upon her work that the others grew concerned for her, more so when they planned to ride out. They knew she would stop at nothing to save Mordred and, while they did not blame her, they worried it would get her killed.

    Waiting in the camp the day before they thought the battle would begin, (Y/N) suddenly regretted not saying goodbye to Merlin. Perhaps he was a stubborn bastard that had driven Mordred and herself away to the point where they could die this day and have never spoken to him again, but he was important to her nonetheless. His worries had been for Arthur and (Y/N) when it came to accepting Mordred and he could not be blamed for his protective nature. The mistakes he made while being protective, yes, but something told the young woman that he was already feeling the repercussions of them.

    (Y/N) and her four favourite knights in the world, Leon, Percival, Elyan, and Gwaine, gathered by the fire for what felt like their last meal. Spot laid loyally at her feet. He was probably too old for this kind of thing, but she felt he would chase her all the way from Camelot if he wasn’t brought along in the first place.

    When she was done eating, the young woman cleared her throat. “Whatever happens tomorrow, I want you all to know that I’m grateful for all you’ve done for me and I’m blessed with the opportunity to fight alongside you.”

    Leon, her oldest friend of all of them, looked up with sad eyes. She spoke as if she planned to die and that in itself killed him. “I think I speak for all of us when I say that the same could be said to you.”

    That night, when the attack began early, (Y/N) stood beside Leon. They stood together during Arthur’s speech and during the initial charge. They shared one last glance before racing into the battlefield together.

    It was a battle unlike any other she had fought. Besides the brutal nature of it, it seemed she was constantly outnumbered, surrounded by up to five men at a time.

She unabashedly used her magic whenever she needed, feeling that this was the final battle, no matter the outcome. If Morgana died, Arthur would likely allow magic more freely in his kingdom. If (Y/N) died, then there was no reason for her to worry about them knowing her secret from the afterlife. If Mordred were to die that day, then she would, too, whether by the enemy’s hand or her own.

It came to be, after the initial attack and Merlin’s appearance, though in disguise, that (Y/N) found herself in a quiet, narrow space.

She was fighting off two men and spotted Arthur in her peripheral vision. He was being approached by a dark-haired figure, but did not see him. Luckily for the king, she shouted his name, which gained his attention and allowed him to defend himself from her lover’s attack.

Soon, she was distracted by her own duel with the two Saxons, focused more on defense until she could turn the tide her way.

However, she failed to see the third attacker creeping up behind her.

Kill Arthur. Kill Arthur. Kill him. Kara. Avenge Kara. Kill him.

Mordred was in a dark room, sobbing and clawing at stone walls that had no door. The ends of his fingers never stopped bleeding and his nails were worn to the point of uselessness. No matter the amount of screaming and shouting and begging he produced, no one came to rescue him. He was stuck in a prison of his concoction, his own invention.

He knew Arthur had done nothing to wrong him, yet he couldn’t convince his mind otherwise. It was as if all logic had been shoved aside and his emotions were ruling him, using a false story to drive him to kill his king.

The young man could see himself go to attack Arthur. He could feel the sword in his hands, the wind upon his face, but he had no control over it. However much he moved his hands to try and drop the sword, they stayed stone still. The only thing that seemed to reflect his true mindset was the fact that tears fell from his eyes.

Please, he whispered, knowing Morgana was listening. Don’t make me do this.

As soon as the thought left his head, Arthur seemed to realise that the young man was crying, not to mention that his eyes were a sickly green.

“I don’t want to do this, Mordred,” he huffed, blocking another swipe of his sword. “You have to fight it. You have to fight her.”

Mordred wished that the king’s words inspired him to give more effort, but they did the exact opposite. He had tried already. He had tried so many times before, yet he was still trapped in his own head.

That was when he saw her.

    (Y/N) was across the way, fighting off two Saxons. The sight of her filled him with such hope that for a second, just a second, his eyes moved of his own accord.

    (Y/N), came the thought. That’s (Y/N). I love her.

    But then he saw the third Saxon, who was sneaking up behind her, battle axe raised. She didn’t notice him, which filled Mordred with a sense of dread.

The thought of (Y/N)’s in danger wasn’t even fully in his head before he felt his hands loosen, dropping his sword onto the ground. He didn’t dare take another second to look at Arthur’s expression before he was racing across the field. When he arrived, he almost shoved (Y/N) out of the way, but was mindful of the other two Saxons at her front, before standing in between her and the Saxon.

The axe was bearing down on him before anyone even realised he was there. It cut him from his left shoulder to his right hip and he collapsed onto the ground without a sound.

(Y/N) had heard the shink of the axe against his skin and turned, killing the Saxon with a stab to the stomach. It was then that she saw Mordred’s bright eyes, turning back to his own rather than the green they would be under Morgana’s spell, staring up at her with a sort of deadness.

“NO!”

Across the battlefields of Camlann, Morgana and Merlin stood apart. They battled grievously, using all manner of magic they could before they turned to physical weapons. Morgana had been a great swordswoman in her time and she had lost none of her skill.

However, when she heard a cry from far off and her connection to Mordred was severed, she lost her focus. She turned her head violently, searching for the young man in the distance.

“Mordred,” she whispered.

Another word had not left her lips before a sword was driven through her midriff. The witch gasped at the sudden pain, looking down at the weapon then back to its bearer. She searched Merlin’s face for remorse, but found none, resigning her to her fate.

Thus, Morgana Pendragon collapsed, life fading from her eyes in an instant.

It wasn’t until she was gone that Merlin sighed, his eyebrows furrowed. Even his ageing spell could not disguise the pain he had felt at killing his old friend.

She hadn’t been the fair and just Lady Morgana in a long time, but she had always held some sort of remnant of her past, at least to Merlin. He could not help but think of the old days whenever he had seen her. Those days were gone forever now.

Merlin’s head snapped up when he heard (Y/N)’s scream, his heart dropping. The loss of Morgana was inevitable, as he had long resolved, but to lose (Y/N) now would be the death of him.

Merlin Tags: @pearlll09

Part 13

Masterlist

[letmewritefreely]

By Your Side: Part 1

Demetri Stevens had spent the last few years of her life in the skybox for a crime she didn’t commit. One morning she woke up to a huge commotion in her cell block and before she knew it, she was on a dropship. She was sent from the Ark, a space station that had spent the last 97 years in space, down to Earth to see if it is inhabitable with 99 other prisoners. Once on Earth she reconnects with her old best friend, makes new friends, steps on some toes, and helps the 100 survive as they have returned to what was their home once before. With each test and trial; things change, people change, and feelings change. This is a new start for the 100, will Demetri allow it to be a new start for her as well? Or will ghosts of her past keep her stuck, well, in the past?

A The 100 fanfic written by letmewritefreely Bellamy Blake x OC: Demetri Stevens Warnings: It’s based off the 100 so, gore eventually, mentions or implications of sexual content, angst, fluff, violence, death, it will get darker as the series continues. A/N: If you take the time to read this I’d appreciate any feedback. This is kind of a self insert into the story {loosely} because if I were apart of the 100 this is how I’d want to be; but I created a whole character that tries to be clear-minded, selfless, and loves/gives everyone a chance despite her past. I hope you will give Demetri a chance, I put a lot of work into her. Enjoy Part 1 :) Parts: Prologue Part 1 Part 2

As Demetri came to she realized two things instantly, 1) she was fastened into something and could hardly move, and 2) her wrist was heavy and it ached. After forcing her eyes open, Demetri noticed she was smack-dab in the middle of a dropship and buckled in tightly. With a quick glance around she saw a few kids slowly being dragged into the main area much like she imagined she was. Demetri looked down at her wrist to see a bulky metal bracelet with a small green light and what looked like a sensor on the inside. She wiggled around in her seat to try and loosen her restraints when a voice scared her.

“It’s a waste of time, we’re here till they let us go.”

Demetri’s head snapped in the direction of the voice to see a young guy, probably around her age, with eyes full of adventure.

“I’m Finn, Finn Collins.” The brunette placed his hand out in front of him, a beanie snug on his head.

“Demetri.” She slowly took his hand in her grasp and shook Finn’s hand. “It’s not surprising they’d want to control us till the very end.” Demetri rolled her eyes.

Finn gave her an understanding look before opening his mouth again, his grin ever present.

“So what landed you in the skybox? I space walked, it was the coolest thing ever.” Finn seemed proud yet there was something in his eyes that didn’t match his words.

“Nothing as cool as that.” She tried to joke, “It’s not something I want to talk about.”

“Sure, I understand.” Finn nodded. “But whatever it was, we’re still kids. We can learn from our mistakes and start anew?” He seemed genuine enough in the moment causing Demetri to give him a small smile and a nod. “I hope when we land and hopefully don’t, ya know, die we can be friends.” He was forward and very blunt, a characteristic Demetri appreciated.

“Uh, sure.” Demetri nodded as she fully intended to steer clear of as many people as she could, because the amount of people she trusted even today was very few. And no amount of good intentions in her eyes was worth letting people get too close to her, not with her past with people.

Seemingly pleased Finn turned to the person on his other side to introduce himself to them. Demetri looked around the open area and noticed more and more people coming to. All strapped down by thick red seat belts. Some were standing and others were sat like her and Finn. Demetri wasn’t really paying attention until a blonde head caught her attention, she hadn’t seen Clarke in person in years but she’d recognize her anywhere. Demetri was about to call out to her old best friend when she noticed who was sitting by her looking extremely worried, Wells Jaha. Wells had created a wedge between the pair of girls years before Demetri was arrested and Demetri knew that even now, with a possible new start in front of their eyes he would continue to be just that, a wedge.

After what felt like hours all the seats in the main area were full. Demetri noted too, that everyone had the same bracelet on their left wrists, numbered one to hundred, that were probably recording and transmitting information. Her father, before his passing, was an electrical engineer so she knew a little about these things. Not enough to be ever be useful, but a bit. As Demetri’s thoughts were drifting to her father, the guards had just fastened the last delinquent into their seat. She watched thoughtfully as they started for the exit before the one at the back went down into the hatch by the door and disappeared. The door shut and there was a subtle vibration to the spacecraft.

In the next moment the dropship shook and then it was shot from the Ark, the force sent everyone back into their seats for a few seconds before the force almost disappeared completely.

“And we’re drifting through space.” Demetri mumbled, wishing there were windows so she could see them flying through space.

The moment was short lived as there was a loud crash and the dropship thrashed around a few moments before balancing out.

“And now we’ve entered the atmosphere.” Demetri whispered to herself. Her hands were gripping the seat belt so tight her knuckles were pale white.

The lights turned on and the monitors sprinkled on every other wall around the dropship came to life with Jaha’s face on them. All those aboard turned towards them while the mindless and nervous chatter went silent.

“Prisoners of the Ark, hear me now. You’ve been given a second chance, and as your Chancellor, it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but a chance for all of us, indeed a chance for mankind itself.”

Demetri glared at the monitor almost directly in front of her, disliking the man before her. That monotonic voice of his grating on her nerves and making a sense of anger swell in her chest. If Wells annoyed her, then his father brought on a sense of animosity in her that no one else matched, not even Kane.

“We have no idea what is waiting for you down there. If the odds of survival were better, we would’ve sent others. Frankly, we’re sending you because your crimes have made you expendable.”

Now her blood was boiling. Even if she hadn’t committed the crime that got her locked up, none of the people around her deserved this. Taking a moment to clear her mind, she noticed for the first time that she knew a lot of the people being sent down along her side. Most of those around her age or a little younger were in the same Earth Science class as she was, there were a few a little older that she recognized due to her father having been friends with their parents. Those too much younger that her she wasn’t too sure about, but with them being so young she felt they were even more wronged in this situation. Her attention darted back to Clarke, what had she done to get herself on this dropship hurtling towards Earth? What happened after Demetri had gotten locked up?

“Those crimes will be forgiven, your records wiped clean. Now, the dropsite has been chosen carefully, before the last war, Mount Weather was a military base built within a mountain.” The signal cut out as Jaha was talking, but his voice continued. “It was supposed to be stocked with enough non-perishables to sustain 300 people for up to two years.”

Demetri heard a catcall and turned to notice Finn was no longer beside her. Her eyes found him floating a few feet off the ground just out of arm's reach. She frowned, what he was doing was incredibly dangerous but also incredibly stupid. Then again, if this guy had really space-walked then he must do incredibly dangerous and incredibly stupid well.

“No one ever made it there cause we didn’t.” Jaha’s voice faded into the chatter and calls coming from Finn’s audience.

Demetri noticed Wells’ face and knew he was berating Finn for acting so dangerously. She also noticed the worried look Clarke wore as two others began to unbuckle themselves and float into the air.

“Your one responsibility, stay alive.” Jaha’s word cut out as the dropship suddenly shifted.

Demetri watched as Finn was thrown into the people buckled to the closest wall and the two who just left their seats went through pipes running from the floor to the ceiling. The dropship jerked around, sparks flew, and other than being scared out of her mind, Demetri was pushing herself back into her seat relatively calmly.

There were exclaims of fright from those who could open their mouths, others were doing the same as Demetri and managing to hold on for dear life. Demetri looked over at Clarke and saw the raw fear on her face and for a moment, Demetri was afraid they would die without having the chance to talk again. Demetri didn’t hate Clarke, they used to be best friends after all, but she harbored a lot of mixed feelings for the blonde girl. She watched Clarke whip her head towards Wells, the look on his face was a mixture of scared and pleading. Demetri watched his entire face drop at something Clarke said and while she enjoyed his suffering the teeniest bit, the current situation was scaring the hell out of her. The lights flickered before they shut off, leaving everyone in the dark and it only made Demetri hold onto her seatbelt tighter. There was more thrashing and those around her vocalized their fear.

As quickly as it all started, it ended and they were surrounded in silence. Demetri looked all around her to see everyone but the two who went through the pipes were moving and muttering nervously. A voice from the far wall from Demetri spoke shakily.

“Listen, no machine hum.”

As everyone seemed to share a collective sigh of relief the seatbelts simultaneously clicked. Demetri threw the restraints from her body and jumped up before she fell to her knees on the floor. Her breathing was still panicked and uneven as her hands shook a bit but she was alive. She saw others like her, holding their chests and trying to catch their breath. The girl beside her, Harper, had also fallen to her knees the moment she stood. The girls exchanged a shocked look but it dissolved into quiet chuckles before they both stood and stretched. Demetri surveyed the area and those still in the middle level.

Clarke had jumped up the moment she could and ran to the two boys who crashed through the pipes. Finn had rushed to one as Clarke ran to the other, just by the look they exchanged it was easy to tell they were both dead. People started towards the doors and before Finn could say anything Clarke moved to stop them. Demetri stayed towards the back but watched everything happen. She moved down the ladder on the opposite side from Clarke and noticed the guard from earlier by the doors. He was trying to keep everyone back for the moment. He wore the guards’ uniform and he looked put together with his slicked back hair and clean appearance. Yet Demetri could not figure out who he was. Most new members of the guard were trained in the cell blocks and he was not familiar in the slightest.

“We’re dead anyway if the air is toxic.” The guard said back to Clarke’s warning, an indifferent tone to his voice.

“Bellamy?” A girl called as she came down the ladder Demetri just descended.

Everyone watched as she shoved people aside to get to him, before she wrapped him up in a tight hug.

“She’s the one who lived under the floor.” Demetri side glanced the guy beside her, recognizing the girl immediately and remembering the short time they spent in the same cell block.

She was the infamous Octavia Blake which meant the guard was her older brother, Bellamy Blake. As soon as it was discovered that someone had had two children, everyone knew about it. Demetri had still been in a normal cell when Octavia was locked up. It was all anyone talked about for weeks, that Octavia had an older brother, that her mother was floated for breaking the rules. Demetri moved closer to the doors to watch the scene unfold, it must be nice to have someone love you so much they’d sneak onto a metal death box being shot down to a rocky death field for you. She was already a little jealous of Octavia in that sense, no one in her life would do something so reckless and stupid for her.

When Clark interrupted them the girl, Octavia, turned towards her a glare affixed to Clarke.

“Do you mind? I haven’t seen my brother in a year.”

“No one has a sibling.” A guy called, earning the glare that was just on Clarke.

A girl called out Octavia’s name and the chatter grew to a deafening roar all about her and Bellamy. Octavia’s eyes changed and she bolted towards the girl. She barely made it two steps before Bellamy grabbed her. Demetri should have just stayed back but she wanted this girl to have her moment, to prove all the assholes who doubted her and talked shit about her wrong. Demetri caught herself taking a small step forward and speaking before she could stop herself.

“So what?” Demetri spoke up loudly earning everyone’s attention. “Sure, back on the Ark it was a huge deal but we’re not there anymore.” She stepped forward again looking between the siblings before her gaze landed on Octavia. “Give them something else to talk about, be the first person to step on Earth in 100 years.”

Bellamy focused on Demetri, his eyes were guarded but he nodded to her and pulled the lever to open the door. As it fell and exposed the 100 to the air and Earth, the sunlight blinded everyone. The wind blew into the dropship and ruffled everyone’s hair. From what Demetri could see, it was lush and green wherever they landed. It seemed too bright for a few moments and then everyone started fidgeting to get outside themselves. They watched quietly as Octavia took a deep breath as she tiptoed down the dropship door before jumping from the edge of the ship onto the ground.

“We’re back bitches!” Octavia yelled and the dam broke.

Everyone ran out yelling and cheering, those who knew each other rejoiced with hugs and sharing the moment together. Demetri took a few steps out and let the dirt sink beneath her shoes, she breathed in the freshest air she’d ever breath, and she looked at the dense green forest around her. She had no idea there were two people watching her, one shocked and the other intrigued.

“Demi?” Demetri spun to face Clarke, who looked as if she had seen a ghost.

“Hi Clarke.” Demetri suddenly felt embarrassed as she brought her flailing arms closer to her body.

Before she could say anything else Clarke flew at her, arms circling around her neck and holding her tight, much like the reunions Demetri had see before. After a few moments Demetri hugged her back, she had missed the comfort a hug gave her especially from someone who meant as much to her as Clarke once did.

“You’re here? Oh my god.” Clarke’s voice was strained. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“We used to be best friends, I’d never leave without saying goodbye.” Demetri’s voice shook before she steeled her nerves and she ruffled Clarke’s hair affectionately. “Abby came to see me often, why didn’t you ever come?”

“I-I didn’t know you had been arrested until I was.” Clarke explained, pulling back from the hug and holding onto Demetri by her shoulders as if the moment Clarke let go her best friend would disappear again.

“Abby never told you what happened?” Clarke shook her head. “Oh.”

“Tell me after we’re settled? Because I need to know what happened and why you disappeared.” Clarke smiled at her older friend, the light not reaching her eyes.

“Why did you get arrested?” Demetri gawked at her friend before her. “I never thought I’d leave and you’d turn to a life of crime?” Demetri tried to joke.

“I’ll explain that too. Right now, we need to see where we are.” Demetri nodded, following Clarke.

The pair walked around trying to find higher ground as Clarke pulled a map from her jacket and started looking at her surroundings trying to find out where they were. They got to a clearing at the top of a hill and with a quick back and forth between the map and the landscape before her Clarke sighed. Demetri was about to ask Clarke what made her sigh when someone else beat her to it.

“Why so serious, Princess?” The familiar voice of Finn asked as he stepped between the two of them, giving Demetri a quick smirk. “We didn’t die.”

“Two of us did.” Clarke replied dryly, her focus on the peaks before them.

“You don’t like being called Princess, do you Princess?” Finn’s smile faded a bit, but the light was still present in his eyes as he glanced between the two girls.

Demetri rolled her eyes, this Finn guy really had no idea who he was teasing did he. She had a comment on the tip of her tongue when Clarke’s voice stopped her, her friend sounded exasperated.

“You see that peak? That’s Mount Weather. Between us and our next meal is a radiation soaked forest.” Clarke folded the map up again, and turned to look at the two beside her. “They dropped us on the wrong damn mountain.” Clarke ignored Finn as he opened his mouth to say something and she reached around him to grab for Demetri’s hand. Clarke quickly tugged Demetri away from the boy and back towards the dropship.

---

Demetri followed Clark with Finn trailing behind them back to the dropship and the rest of the 100. Some of their people were already moving things out of the ship and working together to build lean-to shelters when Finn was pulled away to help. Demetri looked around to see a handful of shelters already built, but the majority of the kids were running around as teenagers would.

“So, plan?” Demetri asked as she watched Clarke accept the pencil from her and connect two dots on the map, where they are and Mount Weather. They leant over the door of the dropship looking at the map together as Demetri looked over the notes Clarke had made.

“We have to hike across the forest, we ca--” Clarke was cut off by a brooding figure approaching them.

“We’ve got some problems.” Wells stopped right up next to the pair, he didn’t even spare Demetri a glance as he talked right to Clarke. “The comms are dead and there are at least a dozen panels missing from the roof. The systems got fried on the way down here.”

“Look, Mount Weather is the priority.” Clarke pointed down to the map. “We’ve got to get here and we’re here.” On the map the distance didn’t look too bad, but looking at what they had to cross earlier already made Demetri feel exhausted.

“Where’d you learn that?” Wells looked down at the map with the notes about distance scribbled below the line and possible terrains marked.

“Her father.” Demetri interrupted, stepping between the two. “So how fa--”

“A map? Cool, is there a bar nearby? I’ll buy the first round.” A goofy looking kid with goggles joked, looking between Demetri and Clarke. Demetri grinned at the kid before her.

Wells didn’t find it very funny as he glanced at Clarke. Wells completely looked over Demetri and pushed the kid back with a hard shove to his shoulder. The kid shuffled back barely catching himself before he fell. Clarke turned to Wells, about to scold him when another voice stole their attention.

“Hey, hands off he’s with us.” A guy with brown hair long enough to be tucked behind his ears approached with a group of rough looking teenage guys following him.

Wells, who was suddenly outnumbered, was trying to deescalate the situation when Demetri spun towards the voice. The face and voice were familiar and it took her only a few seconds to remember where she recognized them from. The memory flashed before her eyes from the last time she had seen the guy in front of her. Before she could think about the consequences Demetri pushed past Wells, went right up to the guy, and punched him in the middle of his face as hard as she could. Her hands shook as she stared right at John Murphy. The fake guard from early, Bellamy, saw what happened and rushed forward to pull her from the shocked and bleeding Murphy. She didn’t struggle as he wrapped an arm around her stomach with his hand holding her forearm as he tugged her a few feet back.

“Woah, hey!” Bellamy yelped as he looked between the girl and Murphy.

“John Murphy you son of a bitch.” Demetri growled, eyes locked on the guy holding his nose, with blood peeking through his fingers.

Clarke gawked at her, Demetri was not someone who typically attacked people physically, she used her words. Sure Clarke had seen the older girl knock a few people onto their butts on the Ark but it was mainly kids picking on Clarke. She had never seen Demetri nearly break someone’s nose like that. After Murphy got a good look at the girl being held back by Bellamy, his eyes went from anger to straight up shock. When he had made the connection she had, he stepped forward ready to apologize but Bellamy shook his head. Murphy retreated with a weird look on his face, his group of hoodlums following closely behind glaring at Demetri.

“What’s going on?” Clarke’s voice cracked. “Demi?” Her attention solely on the older girl still being held back by Bellamy.

“I’m not going to hit him again, let me go Blake.” Demetri spat, eyes never leaving Murphy’s retreating figure. “Don’t worry about it Clarke, it’s nothing.” She glanced at her younger friend.

“Let’s focus on the bigger issue here,” Wells stole the attention, “We need to find Mount Weather.”

Bellamy looked down at the girl in his arms, he could still feel her body trembling slightly but he let her go. He watched her walk closer to the blonde most knew as Clarke, and lean against the door of the ship. Her bruised knuckle rested on top of her crossed arms and she focused on what was going on around her. Demetri noticed a few people had gathered around them but most of the 100 were off exploring or working to get some sort of a shelter set up, even if it were for themselves.

“You heard what my father said, getting to Mount Weather is our top priority.” Wells turned to those around him as he spoke. Demetri listened to him with a sour look on her face.

“Screw your father.” Octavia spat. “Think you’re in charge? You and your little princess?” Octavia turned her glare to Clarke.

Demetri watched the younger Blake closely, she’d formed a soft spot for the girl when they were in the same cell. But if Octavia caused trouble or made Demetri’s life harder than it had to be, she would have to get over that soft spot quickly. Demetri’s gaze moved from the younger Blake to the older one only to find Bellamy already looking at her. He looked away when he was caught and focused on Clarke who had started talking.

“I don’t care who’s in charge, we don’t care who’s in charge. If we don’t get to Mount Weather soon, it will be harder later on. We need those supplies in order to survive and that’s why we’re here right? To survive.” Clarke looked around as a few more people start to crowd around and listen. “It’s close to a 20-mile hike, we need to go now to get a good start before it’s dark.”

“How about the privileged do the work for once and you two go.” Bellamy shared the glare Octavia wore.

“You think two people can carry enough supplies for a hundred people?” Demetri scoffed, focusing on Bellamy as he looked at her. “You seem pretty smart, how does that math work out for ya?”

“We all need to go.” Wells tried again, completely ignoring Demetri still.

Murphy stepped forward from the side and shoved Wells away from Clarke. He seemed to be feeling better when his nose had stopped bleeding. Wells hit the ground with a thud and a pop, before he had trouble standing up. Wells rolled to his side and glared up at Murphy. This is exactly the problem with sending a bunch of teenagers and young adults to the ground, this petty shit was inevitable.

“We have the Chancellor of Earth now.” Murphy chuckled, obvious to how everyone followed his movements.

Demetri took a step forward while rolling her eyes and mirrored Murphy’s steps. She had moved the moment Wells had hit the ground. Two of Murphy’s guys grabbed Clarke and the other two looked like they were planning to move for Demetri, before she dodged them and shoved them both away. Wells stood as quickly as he could with his ankle hurting and started towards Murphy. It looked like they were going to get into fist fight and the crowd was only egging it on. Demetri moved up the side of the ship door ready to step in. She had tightened her fist, ready to punch Murphy again when Finn landed between the two guys with a graceful thud. Finn moved to stand right in front of Murphy, looking him up and down before he spoke.

“It’s not really a fair fight if one guy’s got only one leg. Why not wait, huh?” Murphy didn’t say anything at that, but left the area with a grunt. His guys following him after they sent mean looks as they left.

“Hey spacewalker,” Demetri watched Octavia glide towards Finn a smirk on her lips, “Rescue me next.”

Demetri stood there as Clarke rushed to Wells’ side, she relaxed her body the best she could, the tension had made her sore hand hurt more. Her attention shifted towards the Blake siblings when Bellamy started dragging Octavia away going on about how he’s protecting her. She listened to them go back and forth, Octavia explained her need to be free and act crazy for once in her life. She watched panic flash over Bellamy’s face before he looked around. He locked eyes with Demetri and froze, his eyes were set in a glare before he tugged Olivia further away and out of sight of most of the others around.

Demetri pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the dropship door as Clarke examined Wells’ foot. Hearing approaching steps to her left, Finn caught her attention and she smiled at him to which he returned one of his own. He glanced between three of them before his eyes landed on Clarke.

“So Mount Weather? When we leaving?” He tugged on the straps of his backpack for emphasis.

“Now.” Clarke stood up, she moved to grab her backpack from beside her, barely sparing a glance at Wells who looked defeatedly up at her.

Demetri stood too, shouldering her pack and moved to Clarke’s side. The crowd around them had dispersed after the chance of watching a fight ended, leaving only a few people within earshot of the small group. Truthfully, Demetri wasn’t looking forward to this expedition but it needed to be done and being one of the oldest down on the ground meant she had to step up. And there was no way she’d let Clarke wander off into the unknowns of the forest alone.

“There’s no way three of you,” Wells paused, acknowledging Demetri for the first time, “can bring enough back for all of us.” Demetri sneered at the guy sitting on the ground before her, not letting him see how much she agreed with him.

“Five.” Finn grabbed the goofy goggles kid and the guy who hadn’t left his side since they landed, who exchanged a look before they straightened out.

“This sound fun, make it six!” Octavia giggled, stepping up next to goggles.

“Like hell you are.” Bellamy grabbed Octavia’s arm, but she shoved his hand from her body.

“You’re not stopping me.” Octavia turned from her brother to the rest of the group.

Clarke zeroed in on Finn’s wristband, it was scratched up far more than they should be. Demetri knew the look on her face, and as she subconsciously tucked the wristband behind her, Demetri prepared herself to hear one of Clarke’s scoldings.

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to take it off? They transmit your vital signs to the Ark.” Clarke’s eyes narrowed at the older guy before her.

“So?” Finn asked, hiding the wristband behind his back.

“So,” Clarke’s eyes snapped to Demetri before going back to Finn. “Do you want your loved ones to worry about you being dead or not?”

Demetri noted the way Bellamy’s eyes flitted to each of their bracelets, she could see his gears turning and she didn’t like it. Finn eventually shook his head to answer Clarke’s questions and then she started to walk away with most of the group following. Demetri watched Bellamy, the worry masking his features but there was determination in his eyes. The two didn’t seem to match the situation and Demetri felt like he couldn’t be trusted. There was more to just him coming down in the dropship for Octavia.

“Be careful.” Bellamy nodded towards the group.

Octavia pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and ran off to follow. Demetri smiled to herself when Clarke told Wells as she passed she didn’t want him here. Bellamy was watching her when her eyes flashed back to him, his eyebrows were pushed together. Bellamy had been watching her the whole time they’d been on the ground and he knew nothing about her other than she was brave and observant. He saw how she was always observing everything, and it made him nervous. The girl that spiked his curiosity spared him one last look before she hiked her bag higher up on her shoulder and took off after the group. Bellamy watched her until she was out of sight and then he turned back to the camp, ideas already running through his mind on how to take care of the wristbands. Demetri caught up to Clarke as Octavia was on her other side talking about Finn. She rolled her eyes but found it slightly funny that they’d been on the ground maybe an hour and there was already a fight over a boy. And it was over Finn, much less.

---

Demetri followed along quietly taking in the beauty of the real nature around here. Nothing from the Ark even came close to looking this lush and green. She’d seen the tree on the Ark, a small bonsai tree that had a small following that gave it water at every ceremony. Kane’s mother, Vera, had taken care of Demetri a lot after her father died, she was like her real grandmother. The little tree Vera loved so much couldn’t hold a match to the beauty of the Earth before her, and Demetri hoped one day Vera could see it for herself. Demetri focused back onto the world before her when she heard a quiet giggle. She watched Finn tuck a flower behind Octavia’s ear as Demetri jogged up to Clarke. Demetri sent her a small smile as Clarke turned towards the lagging group and scolded them to hurry up. Demetri stopped and turned to the four behind her with an unsure smile.

“She isn’t always like this.” Demetri shrugged, moving forward again. “She’s just worried about everything.” Demetri offer a small smile.

“Uhm, we haven’t met.” Goggles kid appeared by her side, his friend on her other side, both looking equally nerdy.

“I’m Jasper, that’s Monty.” His friend waved shyly, “And you are?”

“Demetri, but you can call me Demi.” She smiled at the two, her initial plan to not get close to anyone new melted away when they smiled down at her so warmly.

“It’s very nice to meet you Demetri. You’re pretty cool.” Monty leapt in front of them a bit and walked backwards to talk to her. “Punching Murphy like that was amazing.”

“It also makes you a little scary.” Jasper added, wrapping an arm around Demetri’s shoulder. “I’ve made a mental note to not piss you off.” He winked at her.

“Good idea.” Demetri chuckled, instantly liking the pair of younger guys. “You should also think twice about flirting with an older woman.” She watched Jasper’s face heat up immediately before he pulled his arm away from her. “It’s cute, don’t get me wrong but I’ll be twenty-one in a few months, so you’re reaching.”

“You’re almost twenty-one? Everyone goes up for review on their twentieth birthday.” Monty furrowed his brows, “Why didn’t you?”

“I figured they forgot about me. I should have been floated for the crime they thought I committed.” Her tone was bitter. Before either of the guys could say anything to that, another voice spoke stealing their attention.

“Demetri?” She turned her head to see Octavia catching up to them. “Thanks for early, the dropship thing.” Octavia was quiet, her hands twisting in front of her.

“It was nothing.” Demetri waved it off. “It’s not fun to have people talk shit about something you couldn’t control.” Demetri replied airily, looking between the three before her. “People will always talk, it’s what they do best. At least now it’ll be in awe.” She winked at Octavia, who smiled up at her.

They continued walking behind Clarke in a cluster with conversation flowing easily. Demetri felt herself already growing attached to the people around her, each was filled with a sense of wonder and a thirst for life. Demetri saw the recognition flash across Octavia’s face after a story Demetri had told about her time in the skybox and she smiled brighter at the older girl and stayed by her side. Finn asked how the pair ended up in the skybox, seeing as they weren’t the troublemaking type. Monty sheepishly explained that his family worked in the farm station and had access to many different types of herbs, and he forgot to replace what they took the last time. The situation made Demetri laugh.

“Over here.” Clarke called quietly, pausing the conversation.

Everyone rushed over to see the deer Clarke spotted. Awe passed over the group at the first animal they had seen since landing. Finn, in an attempt to get closer, stepped on a branch and the deer turned towards the group to reveal a second head growing out of its neck. Octavia gasped, grabbing onto Demetri’s arm.

“Let’s keep moving.” Clarke watched the deer run off in awe before moving again. “We still have a lot of ground to cover.”

---

The others were chattering in front with Finn leading, he had offered to do so and took the map from Clarke. Demetri hung back by Clarke as the pair walked in step with each other. It felt surreal to be hiking in a woods on Earth with her best friend, and Demetri was hoping it wasn’t just a vivid and jaw-dropping dream. She stole glances as Clarke as they hiked on, noticing how distant her friend looked.

“Abby saw me before we were sent down here.” Demetri broke the silence. “She said we need to take care of each other.”

“I’m surprised you’re talking to me.” Clarke sighed. “I practically abandoned you.” Clarke shook her head. “Mom said you were recruited for one of the other stations and you left. I just, I accepted it.”

“You didn’t know.” Demetri sighed too, looking up at Clarke. “I’m not surprised she didn’t tell you the truth, she’d do anything to protect you.” Clarke’s face hardened at that. “Knowing the truth would have crushed you.” Demetri scrunched her nose at her friend.

“That’s hard to believe.” Clarke muttered before turning to her best friend. “Can you tell me what happened? Have you been locked up this whole time?” Demetri nodded, but she sighed realizing this wouldn’t make sense to Clarke.

“That kid, John Murphy, he stole meds for his mom when the med wing didn’t give her enough. I was returning some books to the library for your mom when he rounded a corner and slammed into me.” Demetri focused on the forest floor before her as she spoke. “The hood of his jacket fell when he did and I saw his face. He looked so scared before he ran away. I was looking at what he dropped when the guards saw me. They took me to the Chancellor right away because I was wearing a similar jacket.” Demetri shook her head, the face of the Chancellor appearing before her. “He figured since my father died a thief, I followed in his footsteps. Because I was only fourteen I was locked up in the skybox.”

“Why didn’t you tell them who it was? You’re innocent.” Clarke looked up at Demetri confused, Demetri already had a response ready.

“Clarke, no one steals drugs for no reason. Maybe his mom was dying.” Demetri shrugged, watching Clarke deflate a little. “I don’t want anyone else to have their parents ripped away from them and I had practically no one so I just dealt with it. I only found out what happened because Abby had looked into it and told me. She didn’t believe I did it.”

“So you took the fall for him? Just like that? Even after you knew.” Clarke gaped.

“I was hoping maybe he’d learn but he still ended up in the same place. Maybe I should have snitched but it’s too late.” Demetri threw her arm over Clarke’s shoulders. “Besides I wouldn’t be here to keep an eye on you and experience all this if I had.” Demetri gestured around her. “What about you? You’re the complete opposite of a rule breaker, how did you end up here?”

“I, uh, I tried to help me dad reveal to everyone on the Ark that it’s dying. So I was arrested for treason.” Clarke’s story was much shorter and left Demetri more confused than she had imagined she’d be. “Yeah.” Clarke nodded absentmindedly when she saw the look on Demetri’s face.

“What?” Octavia’s attention flew to them, the rest of the group freezing momentarily too.

“He was an engineer and he noticed that with the current supplies and population level, those onboard can only survive for three more months, maybe four now without us.”

“That’s why you were locked up and your old man floated?” Finn asked, not even bothering to sugarcoat it.

Demetri felt like the air was knocked out of her lungs. Clarke’s father was dead. He had only ever done what was best for his family, and Demetri after she’d become apart of it. He had always worked so hard to take care of everyone on the Ark. He worked hard for the Ark and they just killed him like that. She struggled to keep up with the group as it started moving again, everyone was listening to Clark.

“He thought the people should know, the council didn’t, my mother didn’t.” Clarke looked at the ground. “We were going to go public when Wells…”

“He gave up your dad?” Demetri choked out, remembering the distance between the once best friends with a new feeling of distaste for the young man. “But he --” Demetri didn’t even know what to say.

“The guards got to him before we could.” Clarke’s eyes looked vacant. “At least now they bought themselves more time.” Demetri didn’t know how to comfort her friend, she wasn’t the best at comfort. Whenever something happened that called for comfort Demetri often closed in on herself, she wasn’t the best at dealing with upset people.

“They’ll kill more people won’t they?” Monty asked quietly.

“Probably.” Demetri started at the ground as Octavia pushed passed them all. “And they deserve it.”

Demetri stopped beside Clarke with a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Clarke put her hand on top of Demetri’s and gave her a weak smile. They would have more time to talk once they reached Mount Weather and the supplies. They turned their attention to the front as Octavia stopped, stripped down to her tank top and underwear, and jumped into the river before them. Clarke stared in bewilderment, mumbling something about a river not supposed to be here. Finn chuckled at her and stripped off his shirt, pointing towards the river before them with a smirk. The mood warmed as everyone laughed and cheered, then started to undress to join her. The guys had taken off their shirts and the girls were removing their shoes when Jasper saw something in the water that made him freeze. Whatever it was was moving at an incredible speed towards Octavia. He yelped and everyone else looked up to see what made him start freaking out. She was underwater and being dragged away before anyone could react. In the next moment Jasper was yelling and the group jumped into action.

Clarke, Finn, and Monty struggled to shove a large rock in the water a few feet away to distract whatever it was while Demetri and Jasper rushed to help Octavia. As soon as the river monster had let go of Octavia and swam after the rock Jasper jumped in and pulled her to the shore while Demetri pulled them both up on land in turn. Clarke rushed over to make sure the wound on her leg was okay. She tied some fabric above the bite to slow the bleeding. The excitement from the near death experience passed quickly, they got dressed and continued along the riverside, the idea of swimming not sounding as fun. They walked for few more hours before exhaustion hit them. The group found a place to camp for the night and they quickly devolved into slow breaths and quite snores.

Demetri sat against a tree and watched over the group, she wasn’t as tired as the rest and she wanted to take in their surroundings more. She pulled out one of her empty notebooks and a pencil, and started sketching the area. The trees, the flowers, the moss, and the mushrooms, anything that she was seeing before her she started drawing. She even added a little sketch of the group before her, Monty and Jasper sprawled out, limbs everywhere. Octavia had settled herself between Demetri and the two guys, she was curled up. Finn was on Demetri’s other side boxing Clarke in between them. Demetri suddenly felt this sense of fondness for the people around her again, they were going to be her lifelines from now on. And as she sat on that idea she felt surprisingly content with it. She continued to draw until her eyelids grew heavy and her pencil slipped from her hand.

Demetri awoke to Clarke and Finn talking a few feet away, the forest before them glowing in the dusk. There was a plant all around them that had been translucent when the sun was up and now it was glowing brightly, lighting up the darkness around them. She watched Clarke giggle, a sound she hadn’t heard in years, and Finn give her a bright smile. He lead her a bit away by her hand and they continued giggling to one another. Demetri smiled to herself before she put her things away and snuggled deeper into her jacket. This was a new start for everyone else, maybe Demetri could take that to heart and have a new start too.

---

As the sun rose to signify the beginning of a new day the group got up with it. They stretched and after consulting the map, went looking for a way to cross the river. They broke off into pairs and wandered off a bit to look for a bridge or logs, or anything to get them to the other side without going into the river. Demetri walked idly along the riverside by Clarke, who was lost in her head as they went.

“So you and Finn?” Demetri nudged Clark to get her attention.

“What about me and Finn?” Clarke glanced Demetri’s way as she climbed over a waterlogged trunk.

“I saw you two last night, I think he likes you.” Clarke rolled her eyes as she helped Demetri over the trunk too.

“So?” Demetri rolled her eyes next, giving Clarke a skeptical look.

“So? Clarke, he likes you. I think you should give the guy a chance.” Demetri winked, looking up when Finn yelled about finding something. “We to get start over, he seems nice. And he’s kinda hot.” Demetri shrugged when Clarke shoved her lightly.

“Kind of hot?” Clarke gawked for a moment. “I mean, sure but it’s whatever.” She shrugged.

“Okay. ‘it’s whatever,’ Clarke we both know you like the kid.” Demetri held her hands up, “You have no worries either, we have never liked the same guy and that won’t start now.” Demetri bit back the knowing grin as Clarke shoved Demetri’s shoulder away from her before she chuckled.

“I’ve missed you.” Clarke locked her arm with Demetri’s, “Even if you’re annoying.”

“Ah, a mutual feeling finally!” Demetri giggled as they jogged towards Finn.

The boy stood on the highest ledge overlooking the river holding onto a tangle of vines. Demetri traced it all the way to the canopy of the trees along the riverbank, some trees reaching almost completely across the river. Finn kept tugging on it to test it’s strength with an unsure look on his face. Jasper was by Finn’s side giving him tips and telling him the best way to get across somewhat safely. The other four were sprinkled around the rocks waiting to see what was going to happen. Just when it looked like Finn had gathered himself and would give it a go, Jasper stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Demetri watched a smirk form on Finn’s face before he glanced at Octavia. Finn looked back at Jasper and handed the vine over to Jasper with a solid hand on his back. In the next moment Jasper leapt off the ledge, grip tight on the vine as he flew across the river hanging on for dear life. Everyone watched with smiles on their faces as Jasper landed rather ungracefully, but he had landed on the other bank. Everyone started to celebrate Jasper’s success as Finn grabbed the vine as it swung back. He handed it to Clarke in the next moment for her to go next, a light in his eyes. Demetri watched Jasper move some weeds and overgrowth around as Finn explained what to do to Clarke. Jasper found a sign and jerked it out of the weeds and flashed it towards his friends on the other side of the river. They saw Mount Weather on the beat up and dirty sign as Jasper waved it around, cheering as he did. Everyone echoed his cheering and yelling before a spear flew through the air and hit Jasper right in the chest. Demetri watched in shock as he was slammed back against the ground with a spear sticking out of his upper torso. Everyone froze and the excitement vanished in seconds.

“Jasper!” Monty yelled his voice cracking as he stuttered forward moving up beside Demetri.

“Oh my god.” Octavia covered her mouth, she had stopped half way up the rocks. There was no doubt in Demetri’s mind that the younger girl had wanted to go after Clarke had crossed.

Finn grabbed Clarke and Octavia by the hand and drug the frozen pair back to the treeline. Monty saw what Finn was doing and grabbed Demetri, who hadn’t moved since she watched Jasper go down. Monty jerked her forward and pulled her behind him towards the others. The five of them ducked behind the rocks and they started looking around frantically. Demetri’s eyes never left Jasper. He was too far away to be able to tell if he was still breathing, but the spear didn’t seem to have went in too deep. There were a lot of thoughts running through Demetri’s head and the first one was, no class they were required to take ever prepared them for this.

[moonlitgleek]

Anonymous asked:

What was going on in the Tower of Joy. I am so confused by it. Why did Rhaegar leave THREE King's Guard with his baby mama and one teenager with his wife and lawful heir? 

Because it seems that Rhaegar did not take into account the possibility of defeat. 

Rhaegar had put his hand on Jaime's shoulder. "When this battle's done I mean to call a council. Changes will be made. I meant to do it long ago, but . . . well, it does no good to speak of roads not taken. We shall talk when I return."

In his mind, he’d have ridden to the Trident to crush the rebellion then returned to call a Great Council and overthrow Aerys. So Elia and the children, inside the Red Keep and surrounded by guards if not Kingsguard, weren’t in danger as far as he was concerned. That, of course, leaves Aerys but Rhaegar was fighting for Aerys and so was Dorne so Aerys had no reason to harm Elia or the children. Their stay in the Red Keep might not be pleasant (or by choice) but Rhaegar probably did not see a pressing danger in it as long as his father saw that Rhaegar was fighting for him. By the time their presence within Aerys’ reach could turn dangerous (when Rhaegar put whatever plans he had into motion), Rhaegar supposedly would have been back and in place to remove Aerys without posing a danger to his family. Of course Rhaegar failed to take into account his father’s unpredictability and the extent of his paranoia into account, and what that could lead him to do. Indeed, Aerys randomly decided that the loss at the Trident was because the Dornish had betrayed them and refused to send Elia and the children to the relative safety of Dragonstone which ultimately left them at the mercy of the Lannister forces, but oh well.

Note that Rhaegar’s belief in the prophecy has to be taken into account here as well because it’s probably what underlay his conviction of victory. He firmly believed that his children were the three heads of the dragon and meant to save the world, so it’s entirely possible that he believed the same magic that foretold the birth of the three heads of the dragon and that would bring the dragons back would ensure the safety and survival of his children, prophesied saviors that they were. That might have played into his firm conviction of his victory, and could explain how his plans to “protect” Lyanna were equally suspect, or why he committed so many glaring blunders without a thought to the consequences. If you have prophecy and magic on your side, what could possibly go wrong? 

For a guy so fond of Summerhall, you’d think he would learn something.

Why, after most of the Royal family was killed because of poor guarding, did they not go to the new King, and pregnant dowager Queen who were actively being percussed? 

Some argue that this is the biggest piece of evidence of Jon’s legitimacy and that the Kingsguard were there to protect their infant king. I disagree, because a surprise legitimacy reveal would be a deus ex machina that loses Jon’s story a lot of its narrative weight. And because even if Rhaegar took Lyanna for a second wife (probable), that does not mean their marriage was legal or would be recognized by anyone. More importantly, Jon did not have to be trueborn for the Kingsguard to be assigned to protect him.

Some kings thought it right and proper to dispatch Kingsguard to serve and defend their wives and children, siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins of greater and lesser degree, and occasionally even their lovers, mistresses, and bastards.

Of course we then run into one main obstacle: Rhaegar was not king. He never was. But Rhaegar was also not king when he instructed the Kingsguard to stay in Dorne to “guard” Lyanna instead of fulfilling their duty to the king they were sworn to obey

The first duty of the Kingsguard was to defend the king from harm or threat. The white knights were sworn to obey the king's commands as well, to keep his secrets, counsel him when counsel was requested and keep silent when it was not, serve his pleasure and defend his name and honor. Strictly speaking, it was purely the king's choice whether or not to extend Kingsguard protection to others, even those of royal blood.

Aerys was facing an active rebellion that the Kingsguard vows compelled them to defend him against but the three Kingsguard eschewed their duty to the king and followed Rhaegar’s orders instead. So, in practice, Arthur Dayne, Oswell Whent and Gerold Hightower had all but treated Rhaegar as de facto king. They sat out the rebellion because Rhaegar told them to remain at the Tower of Joy, so remain they did. That says much about the allegiance of the three of them to Rhaegar’s person, which falls in line with what Yandel tells us about the state of Aerys’ court in recent years and the factionalism that permeated it between those loyal to Aerys and those loyal to Rhaegar. Arthur Dayne was an open supporter of Rhaegar whereas Oswell Whent is speculated to have been involved in whatever scheme was supposed to take place at Harrenhal. Our knowledge of Gerold Hightower is more limited but it says a lot that the Lord Commander didn’t return to fight for the king but stayed behind where Rhaegar instructed him to stay.

So the Kinsguard stayed with Lyanna instead of going to Viserys because  Rhaegar ordered them to, and dead or not, their loyalty to him remained.

(And to be fair, Aerys was murdered by his own guard, while Gregor Clegane scaled Maegor’s Holdfast to get to Elia and Aegon at a time when the city was crawling with an overwhelming number of Lannister soldiers. Those are not good odds for any Targaryen guard.)

Why, when Ned, Howland, et al, finally came for Lyanna, did they fight. It was her brother and a bunch of Northmen. I assume they had a Stark banner. Yeah, if it had been Robert, I’d have been worried, but it was Ned and his buddies. It wasn’t like an army, it was 9 guys, they could have talked for five minutes. Ned wasn't going to hurt Lyanna or her baby.

Yeah, that’s one of the reasons many of us question Lyanna’s assent to remain in that tower and just how “willing” her stay was. According to GRRM: 

The King's Guards don't get to make up their own orders. They serve the king, they protect the king and the royal family, but they're also bound to obey their orders, and if Prince Rhaegar gave them a certain order, they would do that. They can't say, "No we don't like that order, we'll do something else."  

Which by no means absolve them from the responsibility of choosing to follow Rhaegar’s orders even in defiance of their knightly vows, btw. It’s not like their vows render them physically incapable of defying the king. That was still a choice on their part.

But the fact that Ned had to cut his way to Lyanna’s side does not give the best impression of Rhaegar’s orders to the Kingsguard or speak of Lyanna’s wishes being respected or taken into account. It is quite possible that the Kingsguard were not sure of Ned’s intentions: after all, Ned was one of the leaders of the rebellion and the three knights had received the news about what happened with Elia and her children, and who knows how accurate or comprehensive the account was. They might not have known that Ned spoke against the crime or quarreled with Robert over Clegane, Lorch and Tywin escaping punishment - indeed, he left King’s Landing to lift the siege of Storm’s End and accept the surrender of Lords Tyrell and Redwyne so in their eyes he was working for “the Usurper".

However, my issue with this is that they chose to meet Ned sword-to-sword (using their vows to justify it) without even attempting to suss out his intentions, or you know, listening to the sister who knew that her brother would never hurt her or her baby. Lyanna clearly trusted Ned and had faith that he’d help her protect her child so it’s not like the Kingsguard had no grasp on who Ned Stark was or what he was capable of. Even if they did not fully trust Lyanna’s account due to her age, illness or general familial bias, surely escorting Ned to her under guard wouldn’t have cost them anything. Or a conversation that wasn’t centered on how the Kingsguard do not flee and that’s why they were fighting the guy who only wanted to get to his sister and who was literally pushed into war, on the assumption that he might just turn out to be a kinslayer after all. I’d have hoped that three of the finest knights in the land would have enough moral judgement to recognize the position Ned was in, his family murdered and his sister missing for over a year and a half. He was only trying to reach Lyanna (who may have been yelling for him, if that part of his fever dream is correct.) Ned did not want to fight. He was sad about having to fight the Kingsguard but they were giving him no choice to get to Lyanna but to cut his way through. The fact that they were keeping him from his sister and that they were complicit in carrying her off means that the onus was on them to prevent bloodshed. 

That is all to say that the Kingsguard gave more weight to Rhaegar’s orders - which seem to have been “no one gets past. Period” - over the needs and wants of the dying woman inside the tower who, if nothing else, deserved to have her brother by her side when she died and deserved to have the comfort of knowing that her baby was safe with her beloved brother, instead of taking her last breath as another of her brothers was cut down outside her door.

And what was the plan for them? They didn't know Lyanna was going to die (unless that was the plan), so what where they planning on doing with her and the baby? WTF King’s Guard guys? (you write the best meta so I thought I’d ask if you could help me understand.)

It would have been clear by the time Ned made it there that Lyanna was dying but I really have no idea what their plans were after that, if they had any. My best guess is that they would have taken Jon and crossed the Narrow Sea to Essos, though their reaction to Ned telling them that Willem Darry did exactly that with Viserys and Daenerys could be a counter-indicative to that. But I don’t know what else they could have done.

(Sometimes I entertain the possibility that Davos’ words about Cortnay Penrose “trying to yield with honor.... [e]ven if it means his own life" apply to these Kingsguard, hence their words about how the Kingsguard do not flee. Not that that would have been any better because killing Ned’s companions to accomplish that does not make them honorable, it only makes them awful. Idk, just a thought I had.)

[hpdracoxreader]

Get Away Fic

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Words: 2573

Prompt: I HAS ANOTHER REQUEST ~ where it’s after the Draco had finished Hogwarts and now a young adult, and he goes to the muggle world influence and forced to by someone idk and he meets the reader ~ who is muggle and bam, idk

Warnings: Slight swearing

Requested: Yes, by @tacocheeks

A/N: ahhHHH I’m sorry, guys. I forgot to post yesterday, I had everything set up and...*insert dumb brain noise*. But without further a-due - I give you my next piece. Hope you all enjoy it. Let me know what you think *kisses and hugs* 

On a slightly less happy note, I’m really glad that you all enjoy my writings and want part two’s and three’s, but it’s not really motivating when I see messages like ‘YES! DO IT’ or ‘DO IT NOW’ it’s really discouraging so see that I’m not being asked, but demanded that I do this. I mean, yes, I’m going to write these stories, but it’s not going to be done well. So if you guys want to see part two’s and three’s, could you please try something like ‘yes please’ or ‘that out be wonderful to see’ or something.

Sorry that I’m going on about this, it’s just been getting to me a little and I wanted to get it off my chest. Sorry, I’ll go now and let you (hopefully) enjoy this new story.

Talking to Harry Potter had become something that just happened to Draco Malfoy after the war. It was like, talking to someone who was in the eye of the storm at the same time. Seeing the damage around you, but not being effected by it.

Of course, Draco and Harry were both equally effect by the war, losing people and struggling with everyday life like it was supposed to just go back to normal. How do you go back after something like that?

Their conversations started with a letter from Draco, asking if Harry’d seen the latest article about the Hogwarts rebuild. Harry had sent back the Malfoy owl, missing Hedwig whilst doing so, saying he’d seen it. That was all.

A week later, Harry borrowed an owl from the Weasley’s, not yet ready to get his own, and asked if Draco was alright. There had been a clipping of the Malfoy’s in the Daily Prophet. Saying about how they all should be in Azkaban for their crimes.

Draco responded that he was getting by. He tried not to read too much from the media concerning his family.

From there, it went to letters every now and then letters, to weekly mail, until they decided to meet up at Godric’s Hollow every Saturday night. That was the night Ginny went to the Burrow to spend time with her family. Harry was more then welcome to join, but he normally declined.

It was a time he knew was meant for just Weasley’s. Besides, as much as he loved his second family, not being around large groups helped since the war.

So Saturday’s were Draco and Harrys night to catch up, go over their weeks and talk, if they wanted, about the war. It stated rocky, but both settled into a rhythm of chatter. It was nice to talk to someone about things that would be understood.

Neither could fully know what to say, but it was helpful either way.

One particular Saturday night after a fairly nasty article had circulated round England about the Malfoy’s, Draco was very quiet.

Harry leaned back with his tea, blew into the brew and watched it swirl. He looked at Draco, who was intent on watching the fly that buzzed around the biscuits. Harry sighed.

“That bad, huh?”

Draco continued to stare, but nodded his head slowly. He dropped his head into his hand, his right holding onto his own tea. “It’s just,” Draco broke off. He looked up and put down his tea on the small round table.

“I know that I did wrong in the war, I know that,” He looked at Harry, blue eyes boring into green. “I understand that I committed crimes and part of me wants to be locked up, make up for what I did. But another part of me wants to get away from everything and everyone. To just, not be looked at like I’m a monster.”

Harry nodded. “To go where no one know’s who you are.”

Both young men had been mobbed in the street since the war, to the point where they were either not going outside, or using disguises to get by. The second half was unsuccessful, and the first only circulated rumours even more.

“Yeah,” Draco looked at the tea. “Is that selfish to want? To be left alone for one day?”

“No,” Harry leaned forward and grabbed a biscuit. He shook his head. “I don’t thank that’s selfish.” He dipped the biscuit in his tea and stared at it for a moment.

When half of it fell into the hot liquid, Draco got Harry’s attention again. “Potter?”

“What if..what if you could have a day like that?” Harry looked into his tea and watching the half biscuit melt. He raised his eyes to meet those of the Malfoy heir.

“What are you talking about, Potter?” Draco sighed and frowned. “Everyone knows me, just as they know you. I couldn’t go anywhere in the wizarding world to-"

“Exactly.” Harry grinned a little. “Don’t go anywhere in the wizarding world, Malfoy. Don’t go anywhere at all.”

Draco rolled his eyes. It was bound to happen. After everything that they had been through, Harry was bound to loose his marbles at some point. “Okay, no more tea for you tonight.”

Draco reached over for Harry’s cup, only to have it snatched out of his grasp. “Malfoy, listen. Don’t go anywhere in the wizarding world. Everyone knows you. Go into the Muggle world.”

He looked at the blond like it was the simplest conclusion in the world. While Draco on the other hand, looked uncomfortable at the thought. He shifted in his seat, and re-ajusted his collar. He looked back at Harry, who seemed to be ticking it over in his head.

“No, no,” Draco shook his head and put his cup down, crosse his arms and leaned back. “Firstly, my parent’s wouldn’t let me, secondly I know nothing of the Muggle world, and thirdly, brilliant Harry Potter, where would I go?”

Harry thought for a moment before meeting Draco’s eyes. “My Aunt and Uncle’s house.” Draco paled a bit. He knew how Harry’s family had treated him, he didn’t want anything to do with that. “They’ve been gone since the war. They don’t want to risk going back. It’s empty at the moment. You could go there for a week, be by yourself, not have to worry about being lynched when you go outside.”

Muling it over, the pale you man looked at his family ring perched on his slender finger. Not being lynched seemed pleasant at this point. He exhaled a shaky breath, before shaking his head.

“I couldn’t, my parent’s-“

“Screw your parents,” Draco snapped up at that. Harry looked calm, like he hadn’t just done what the rest of the wizarding world had told his family. To get stuffed. “Don’t tell them. Just say that you’re staying here with Ginny and I for a while.”

“Because they’ll accept that.” Draco scoffed.

Harry rolled his eyes and huffed at him. “Look, Malfoy. Are you your own person or not?”

“Potter-“

“Well?” Draco stiffens and shuffled in his his seat. Harry took that as a yes. “Then, go. Have some peace and time to yourself. I can give you some Muggle money and you can just hang around the house, or go into the city for a day. It’ll be good for you.”

Draco looked up. He held Harry’s gaze, before nodding. He sucked in a breath when he heard the sound of apparation. Harry looked behind him to see Ginny unwrapping her scarf, taking off her lime green coat. She looked at Harry and smiled.

Making her way over, she wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck. “Hello boys,” She kissed Harry upside down. He grinned into it. “What are you two talking about, hm?”

Harry looked at Draco, Ginny resting her head on Harry’s shoulder. “Malfoy is going to go to Privet Drive for a little while. Get away from everything.”

Ginny straightened up. She looked from Harry to Draco, who was dressed in his black suit. She smirked a little. “Not dressed like that, he’s not.”

Draco scowled, looking himself over before speaking. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing, Weasley?”

Ginny giggled and walked over to get a mug. She grabbed the teapot and poured her own cup, drinking by the sink. She had been to Privet Drive, when Harry wanted to show her his home. She had hated the small closet, but smiled at how scared Harry had made the Dursley’s with his light threats of magic through his youth.

Ginny looked at Harry, looked at Draco. “You’ll stand out like a bludger in a field full of snitches. No, you need to tone it down, Malfoy.”

Draco glared and raised his fingers. “And how, pray tell, does one, ’tone it down’?”

Ginny laughed. “Just borrow some one Harry’s clothes. Suits are too formal for Muggles. They’re casual creatures, just be casual.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Draco said. “I…I am dressed casual?”

Ginny just laughed again, with Harry chiming in softly. Ginny grabbed Draco’s arm and went to the closet in her and Harry’s room. She started pulling out clothes that would suit Draco, before duplicating them with magic.

She packed them in a suit case and handed it to Draco, who looked sneeringly at the old beat up thing. He glanced at Ginny and she pushed it towards him further. He took it, and walked back out to the kitchen room, where Harry was still drinking this tea.

“Now what?” Draco inquired, watching as Ginny flowed around the kitchen, collecting Muggle money from a tin in the cupboard. She threw the tin at Harry, who caught it and took out how much he guessed Draco would need to a week.

He passed it to the blond man. “There, you’ve got clothes, money, now you just have to leave.”

Pale eyebrows raised. “Right now?”

Harry shrugged at him before standing, making his way to Ginny to wrap his arm around her. “It would probably be easiest to apparate at night, then no Muggles could see you.” He kissed Ginny on the cheek. She smiled at him, before waving.

Harry grabbed Draco’s shoulder, before winking at Ginny, then apparating to Privet Drive.

When they got there, it was dark, hard to stem much of anything. Draco could see the outline of the house in the moonlight. It was far smaller then the Manor and the cottage that Harry and Ginny lived in.

Draco entered the house after Harry, who was turning on lights. “Try not to use too much magic here, there is only so much the people living here can take.” Harry chuckled as he rounded from the kitchen. “The bedrooms are upstairs, you can take any you like. The fridge is empty or food, but there is some milk, a few bits of fruit, cereal in the cupboard, so you can just make something.”

Draco had put his suitcase down, and was looking at the photos on the wall. It was filled with ones of Harry and Ginny and Ron and Hermione, all the Weasley’s, people from school. One had Neville smiling before falling over as a toad jumped onto his shoulder.

Then, there were ones that were still, not moving. It showed a long woman with a round man, smiling with a small butterball child in front of them. Draco turned to Harry, point to the picture.

“They may have been horrible, but, Aunt Petunia was my Mum’s sister,” Harry shrugged before moving to door. He turned back. “Oh, yeah, there are brooms in the shed out the back, and theres a field over the back of the train line. No one goes there, so you should be right if you wanted to fly.”

Harry looked around and shuffled on his feet. Draco sighed at the awkward man. “Go, get home to Weasley. She’ll be starting to wonder where you are, Potter.” Harry made a move to speak again, but Draco stopped him. “I’ll be fine. Go away now.”

Harry smiled a little before nodding and leaving, closing the front door behind him.   Draco turned to the house. He breathed out heavily, both satisfied to be alone and slightly on edge. He grabbed his suit case and trudged up the stairs.

He placed the bag on the bed and sat. He turned on the light and waited a moment. He started to undress, to get ready for bed. He turned his attention to the case, but something caught his eye.

He looked out the window to see someone across the street watching him. Draco frowned slightly, and walked toward the window to get a better view of her.

She shook herself slightly when she saw his chest better. She frowned at his frown, huffed and close her curtains.

“What?” He muttered. Draco shrugged and went back to changing, but not before closing his own curtains. “Bloody Muggle women.”

When Draco woke the next morning, he forgot where he was, until he saw the small room wrapped around the even smaller bed he was in. He huffed, before getting up.

Normally, at the Manor, Draco had to be dressed before going to breakfast with his parents, but he decided to forgo that and just eat in his borrowed pyjamas. His long blue and white checkered pants hung low on his hips. Draco had discarded the grey shirt. He trundled down the stairs.

He took the milk that was mentioned from the fridge. He grabbed that, a bowl, spoon and the cereal. He glared at the box, showing a bowl of golden flakes and honey. Crunchy Nut?

“Merlin, Potter,” Draco grumbled as he poured the golden fun into his bowl. He scowled harder when he saw what they looked like. “This box is very misleading.” He dumped some milk in and put the carton back in the fridge.

As he brought the spoon to his open lips, he heard the door being knocked on. He turned to look at the wooden thing. It rattled again. He froze for a moment. Had his parents found him? Had other angry wizards?

Draco had left his wand up stairs and cursed himself. He looked at the bench of the kitchen and grabbed  knife from the holder. He walked towards the door, slowly.

Draco opened it to a small crack. He saw the woman that was watching him last night. Lowering his gaze, he saw a smaller girl, holding a pie. She was smiling happily.

Opening the door a little more, Draco spoke. The knife he held stayed behind the door in his other hand. “Ah, can I help you?”

The little girl giggled. She started to speak before the older one smacked her upside the head. “Do you live here?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “No.”

“So you’re here because…?” She raise her own eyebrow at him.

“I’m…ah, the owners cousin.” He supplied.

The woman laughed. “Really? You’re Harry’s cousin?” Draco looked around before nodding. “Dudley?”

Draco started for a moment. “No, Draco. I’m his cousin from his fathers side.” The woman didn’t seem to believe him. “Look, Potter dropped me off last night. I’m only here for a week, I’m not here because I thought it would be fun.”

The little girl giggled. “He’s go you, Y/N.” She received another smack and pouted.

“Quiet,” She turned her attention back to Draco. “Fine. Our mother wanted us to bring you this pie. Have fun with it.” With that said, Y/N turned on her heel and left.

Draco looked at the jumping child in front of him. He smiled thinly before reaching for the pie with one hand. “She seems angry.”

The little girl laughed. “She’s always like that.” She started to retreat herself, before turning to Draco again. “I’m Heather, and my sister’s name is Y/N. Mummy wanted us to ask you to come to the barbecue this afternoon. It’s at five. You have to come! We’re having honey sausages! Bye, Mister!”

Heather waved and ran towards her home, where Y/N was waiting. She rolled her eyes at her sister. She looked to Draco, who started at her. Y/N huffed and went inside.

Draco closed the door, looked at the pie, and huffed, getting a fork to eat it, since his cereal would be soggy by now.

“Bloody Muggle women."

[princesssarcastia]

I thought we had more time

The Clone Wars, The Wrong Jedi AU. 

Ventress’s head still ached as she bribed her way onto a freighter and off of Coruscant.  Her lightsabers had been taken from her, and her mask.  Ventress didn’t need to feel the warning pulsing through the Force around her to know she shouldn’t stick around.  Coruscant was a big planet, sure, but it wasn’t that big.  Especially not for a Jedi.

The threat of future violence circled around her neck, whispering Skywalker.  Ventress idly rubbed her throat as the ship initiated its flight sequence: for a man who walked in the light, Anakin Skywalker was full of darkness.   Ventress could barely defeat him on her best day.  Now, with a concussion, no lightsabers, and the anger on his side (yes, yes, Skywalker used his hate; he used it ruthlessly, without regard, in a manner that put even her former master to shame), well.  Never let it be said that Asaaj Ventress didn’t know when to flee.

As the ship broke from Coruscant’s orbit, Ventress shivered as the feeling around her throat faded away, only to be replaced by something…cold.  Empty.  Angry. It sent shivers down her spine, so violently she almost demanded the pilot turn back.

Almost.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Anakin snarled as he watched the security playbacks, the comm station’s image glitching every few seconds from the rough splicing he’d just pulled to get ahold of the footage.

Of course Ventress would flee, coward that she was.  He just hadn’t expected her to flee so far.  Into the depths of Coruscant, he could track her; he could catch her in time, but off world….

No.  He would find her.  He would bring her back, to take Ahsoka’s place.  To pay for what she’d done to his Padawan.  

As he rushed off to the speeder he’d taken to the lower levels, he activated his personal comm.  “Padmé, I found Ventress; she snuck her way onto a ship, headed to the Outer Rim.  I’m on my way to the Jedi hanger bay now, I’ll catch up to her soon.”

Padmé’s voice was quiet, and small.  “Just…hurry. Please.  I don’t– I don’t know.  Something’s not right here, I can feel it.”  She paused.  “I don’t know if I can get her out of this, Ani.  They’ve pulled Tarkin for the prosecution, and given that he has the Chancellor’s favor–“

“Hey, so do I,” Anakin said, ignoring the feeling beginning to pool in his stomach.  “Don’t worry, Padmé, I’ll be back soon with Ventress, and we can put this whole thing behind us.”

I hope you’re right, she doesn’t say, and cuts the link.

The feeling grows stronger, but Anakin ruthlessly pushes it down.  He’ll make it back in time.  He will.

He will.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Padmé stares at Ahsoka as the girl stares off into the distance, her eyes listless.   She fights the urge to reach for her hands, her shoulder; anything to try and comfort the girl who was like a sister to Ani.  (A daughter, a treacherous voice in the back of her mind whispers.  She pushes the thought away, gently.  There isn’t time for that, not now.  Not with the shreds of Ahsoka’s defense drawn around the girl like tattered robes, shielding her from nothing)

“It’s alright to be nervous, Ahsoka, but don’t worry.  We can work with your defense, and Anakin will be back soon.”

Ahsoka slowly pulls her eyes away from the invisible point in the distance, and Padmé feels her chest tighten at the emotions swirling through them.  Sadness.  Anger. Fear.  

Resignation.

Padmé hesitantly reaches out a hand, resting it on her shoulder.  Ahsoka stares at it, her ability to grasp the intent behind it muffled by the roaring in her ears; the roaring in the Force.  Something is coming, it murmured.  Something is coming something is coming something is comingcomingcomingshiftingchangingwrongwrongwrongbalancetotheforcedestorythesithnotjointhemPLEASE–

Her breath hitched as her mind slipped back into the present.  The flash of clairvoyance lasted no more than an instant, yet long enough to force tears to trail down her face, to have Padmé pull her in until her arms were around Ahsoka, holding her so tightly, as if she could protect her from everything that was coming.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Ahsoka whispered as she clutched at Padmé, tears streaming and a heavy weight pressing on her mind.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Obi-wan shifted in his seat as Anakin’s Padawan entered the high court, the overwhelming swirl of the Force around her full of anguish and sadness and a touch of something other, something that had never fully gone away after their visit to Mortis.

“Oh, Ahsoka,” he whispers, letting her emotions push at his mind, pull at his heart, until he can barely stand it.  And then releases them.

He watches with a drawn expression as Padmé steps into the view of the holocamera, her presence a soothing balm of light, and lets his fist tighten ever so slightly as Tarkin does the same, a smirk already fixed upon his face.  

He glances at Plo as a wave of anger crashes through the Force. The man’s face is as impassive as ever, but his presence is full of the slow, deep fury he so rarely allows to build. It’s like the tide, drawing him out until Obi-wan’s own doubts and angers and fears are born anew.

“Divided indeed,” he murmurs quietly, knowing they can all hear him.  Knowing they can all sense the feeling of wrongwrongwrongwrongwrong cutting through him.  The living Force has never been strong within him, but when it calls to him, oh did he listen.  Qui-gon had taught him that much, at least.

Obi-wan feels his fellow council members’ sudden doubts, as similar feelings overtake them, and for a brief moment he hopes they choke on them.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Ahsoka watches distantly as Tarkin tears her future to shreds.

This is important, she knows.  She knows. This is important like Christophsis had been important, like Mortis had been important.  The Force is still, so still; it’s waiting.  Waiting to see which way the wind will blow.  Waiting for the right moment to pounce.  It feels like a reflection of herself, in that moment. A fearful predator. 

Her heart seizes with every word that comes out of the admiral’s mouth.  Her tongue is dry, her hands are shaking, and that feeling presses down even harder on her mind…yet she is empty.  Not calm, no.  Just empty, as if there is nothing left of her. 

She wonders if this is what her teachers mean, when they speak of peace.

She wonders if she cares, anymore.  If it matters.

She watches Padmé defend her, fire in her eyes and justice in her mind, and something clicks.  It’s so blindingly obvious, now.  Of course Anakin loves this woman; how could he not? Her passion, her empathy, her inability to stand by as injustice is done.  

Ahsoka watches her world burn down around her, and occasionally catches glimpses of her face on the screens in front of her, when she dares to look up.  She looks…tired.  She feels tired, she realizes.  The kind of tired that sleep can’t fix.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Padmé feels something in her heart burn as she looks up at Palpatine. It was basic psychological manipulation, reminding people of their personal opinions and hinting at the fact that any vote in favor of Ahsoka could be construed as biased.  Forcing them to over correct in order to appear fair in the eyes of everyone watching.

She’s one of the leaders of the opposition; she isn’t blind to Palpatine’s political machinations. Even when she was Queen, her view of the then-senator had never been as idealistic as Anakin’s was now.  

There are whispers, of course there are whispers.  A man couldn’t shrug off two galactic elections without political consequences. Padmé had never believed them, though, never believed that he could be manipulating the senate into giving him more and more emergency powers.  She had never believed that Palpatine was discouraging peace talks, prolonging the war to cling to the power he’d amassed.  Even now, she didn’t really believe it.  But…still.

There’s something in his eyes.  Something in the lines of his face, the tensing of his hands, as if he were grasping at…

Padmé looks up at Palpatine as he stares down at Ahsoka, who looked so frightened and alone, and recognizes the look in his eyes.

It’s triumph.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Oh, it was so beautiful when something like this fell into your lap.  An act of providence, delivered to him on the cusp of victory.

 The Republic is crumbling. His apprentice is Falling.  And here is one scared little togruta; framed so nicely that Palpatine would be remiss, really, in not pretending to believe whoever had trapped the girl.

 Who would have thought that the Jedi themselves would so directly bring about their own downfall?  They abandon one of their own at the slightest pressure from Tarkin, abandon her to be punished for crimes she didn’t commit, leave her to die in a way that will shake Skywalker’s trust in the order, in the Republic, in the Light side of the Force, to its very core.  Not even his dear, precious Obi-wan could justify this; not when the man’s own suspicionconfusionsorrowpain clouds the Force around him almost palpably.

 How convenient that there is still just enough power in the Senate’s proceedings to prevent Palpatine from interfering in any lawful way.

 Palpatine maintains his cloaking in the Force and his even expression as he idly weighs the benefits of having the former Padawan executed by clone firing squad.  He knows Commander Fox will be more than happy to carry out the order, and what a delicious irony it will be: a Jedi executed by a clone, without a single order from Palpatine himself.  A faint taste of what’s to come.

 And there would tip Anakin’s trust in the clone army, the soldiers assigned to guard his back.

 He really should thank whichever disillusioned Jedi was responsible.  He himself could not have planned this out more perfectly.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Rex stares up at the holoscreen, his hands clenching and unclenching as they rest on the table in front of him.

 Fives gave up watching the proceedings almost an hour ago, instead focusing on methodically cleaning the blaster in his hands.  

 The entire torrent company sat around them, along with almost a third of the 212th. There are a few scattered brothers from other battalions on leave, but other than that, they’re alone.

 Cody left the minute Rex switched it over to the trial, his eyes cold.

 Kix glares up at the screen. “They can’t– they can’t believe this poodo.  I mean, Chuchi’s on the jury.  She’ll talk some sense into the rest of them.”

 Murmuring sweeps across the 501st; many of them had been on the Pantoran mission, and still more remember the story Ahsoka had spilled, about her rescue of the Pantoran minister’s daughters.

 “Aren’t those juries supposed to be impartial?” Trapper calls out from the back of the room.

 “Yeah,” Rex says, not taking his eyes off of Ahsoka.  “We all know how that goes.”

 And suddenly the murmuring stops, replaced by a cold anger.  Dogma is still a sore subject with all of them, as is his trial.

 And subsequent execution.

 “What are we going to do about it?” Fives asks, suddenly looking up.  “We can’t just stand by, not again.  This is wrong, and we all know it!”

 Kix runs a hand over his head, then turns to Rex.  “Will Fox–“

 “No; he’s convinced Ahsoka murdered his men.”  Rex flexes his hands again.

 Appo calls out from the back.  “This isn’t the front, either.  We can’t just hold all of Coruscant at gunpoint and demand they hand ‘er over, it’ll never work.  We’ll all get court marshaled, then executed.” Just like Dogma, he doesn’t say, but they all hear him anyway.

 Conversation breaks out again, growing louder and louder and louder until–

 “Ahsoka Tano.”  The Chancellor’s voice rings across the room, freezing every trooper in their place.

 “By an overwhelming count of votes, you are hereby found guilty of possession of illegal explosive devices, resisting arrest, conspiring with enemies of the Republic, sedition against the Republic, and over a dozen counts of murder.”

 Rex swears and pushes away from the table, then stands and kicks his chair, hard.  Jesse barely manages to dodge it, his eyes still glued to the screen.

 “Given the overwhelming evidence and the serious nature of your crimes,”  

 Fives slowly starts to shake his head.  “No, no, they can’t, she’s a Jedi–“

 “Not anymore,” Rex reminds him grimly.

 “This court has no choice but to accede to the demands of the prosecution.  You are to be executed in three days time.”

 Rex’s hands begin to shake as he hangs his head, horrified and resigned cries rising up from his brothers around him.

 “Thank you, senators, for you service to the Republic.  This high court session is adjourned.”

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

As the Chancellor’s finals words fade from hearing, the Force rings like the toll of a bell, clear and bright, centered on the results of the trial.  It demands the attention of every Jedi within range, piercing them with unadulterated sorrow and regret.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Ahsoka stares stone-faced up at the Chancellor, and wonders distantly if he’ll adhere to military protocol and have her executed by firing squad.  The thought is horrifying enough to clear the fog that had lain across her mind, but it does nothing to shake her deep-seated calm.   The man meets her gaze with his own, however, and the spark of hatred within it is enough to push her away.

 She slowly turns to look at the Jedi Council, sees the regret pulsing through the Force around them, and stares at them hollowly.  Too little, too late.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Padmé Amidala grasps the bars of the walkway in front of her so tightly her hands begin to creak as righteous fury burns through her.  She imagines her hands wrapping around Palpatine’s throat, around her fellow Senators’; around the Jedi’s.

 It does nothing to satisfy the krayt dragon awakening within her.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Ventress raises her glass to the holoscreen above the bar.  Her head is ringing with the strength of the Force around her, pushing at her mind, telling her this is all bantha poodo.

Like she didn’t know that already.

 She takes stock of her emotions, slightly puzzled at the amount of regret taking root within. Slowly, she examines it.  Ahsoka had been kind, righteous; a fierce warrior and a powerful ally.

 It almost makes Ventress feel guilty, like she had abandoned the girl as surely as Skywalker had. Like Dooku had abandoned her. (And there’s something else they have in common, now: left for dead by the people they trusted the most)

 Almost.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Anakin Skywalker growls in rage as the force darkens around him and his ship begins to vibrate, thrumming with the strength of his anger.

 He could tear it all apart, piece by piece, and not so much as twitch.

 Ventress is still hours away from him.

 Ahsoka was abandoned by the Jedi Order.

 Ahsoka is sentenced to die. By the Chancellor.  

 His Padawan wasn’t going to die, she wasn’t.  She wasn’t.

 Anakin won’t let her. He still has time.

 (He ignores the voice inside of him that urges him to turn back now, and stay with her in her final hours. Comfort her.  Hold her like he’d held his mother, too late to save her too, angerfearpainrageNO– kill them, kill them all, slaughter the ones responsible)

 (He doesn’t silence it)

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Obi-wan sits in the gardens at the center of the temple, allowing the Force to roil around him.  Wrong, it whispers, untruthframedinnocentsedition. Slowly, he lets his head fall into his hands, his weight sagging underneath his own regret.

 Somewhere, light years away, he can feel Anakin burning.  Hatred.  Rage. Passion, determination.  Fear.

 His former padawan has always struggled with his emotions, but never with shielding them from everyone else.  Anakin’s mind was a fortress, a Naboo lake, a desert with no end; you could become lost seeking anything from him.  The fact that his mental defenses were so lacking was… well.  It would be surprising if it didn’t add to the weight pressing down on him, pulling him deeper into the horrible feeling that hadn’t left him since the Jedi Temple was bombed.

 Normally there would be dozens of other Jedi in here with him, seeking peace, or solitude, or companionship, or the Force.  Now there is only him.  The war has taken so much from them: masters, history, serenity, purpose, honor. Children.  Children they send into battle with their masters, knowing they won’t come back.  All in service to a Republic Obi-wan is surer with every day, every battle, every death, does not exist anymore.

 Suddenly it all stretches out in front of him, and he knows with wild certainty that if it goes on much longer, the Jedi will cease to exist.  Their number will continue to dwindle, they will continue to compromise their beliefs, their younglings will continue to learn more of war than philosophy or peace, and they will die.  

 He stays on the bench, too tired to be surprised.  Too aware already of what this war means to be surprised.  Somehow it feels like he has always known, from the moment he followed Jango Fett to Kamino, that he would end up here.  Tired, desperate for peace, and alone.

 Grief settles into his heart like an old friend, Anakin burns in the back of his mind, and he knows the Jedi will not survive this.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Plo Koon settles down next to him, anger gathered around him like the violent storm that ravaged his home world.  “Obi-wan.”

 Obi-wan says nothing, knowing his shields are in tatters.  Every time he tries to release his emotions into the Force, it shoves them back at him, suffocating.

 “You sense it too, then.” His voice is sterner than usual, low enough to be mistaken for a growl.  

 Finally, he looks up, feeling the marks his hands have left on his face.  “We should not have expelled her from the Order.”

 We didn’t, the High Councilor doesn’t say, because that way lies schism.  Something they cannot afford during a war.  “She is innocent in this; that is the one thing the Force is clear on.”

 He straightens suddenly. “How fares your padawan’s search for Ventress?”

 “I’m not sure,” he says, anger still thrumming in the back of his mind, turning darker by the minute. “Badly,” he corrects after a moment, quieter.

 “Anakin will not make it back in time,” Plo says, and his intent strikes Obi-wan suddenly.  Knows that this is an offer, a request for assistance.

 “He might,” he protests uneasily, but it’s token and they both know it.  It’s what he’s supposed to say, as a Jedi Knight of the Republic. “We have a duty to uphold the laws of the Republic,” he tries instead, but that doesn’t feel right either.

 “Our duty is to the Force, and to each other; not the Senate.”

 The Force swirls around them as he tries to balance the scales in his mind.  On one side, Ahsoka, and Anakin, and the Jedi Order.  On the other, the Republic, and the consequences their actions will bring about.  Either way, the Jedi will never be the same.

 In the end, it isn’t even a question.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Ahsoka sits with her knees pulled up to her chest.  Her chest is tight with everything she’s holding inside, fearing the emptiness that had plagued her during the trial.  The master in the Temple would be unhappy, would tell her fear and anger and pain had no place in a Jedi’s heart.

 But I am no Jedi, she thinks bitterly.  Not anymore. So she lets it all fester inside of her as the rest of her life slips through her fingertips.

 Something inside of her is fracturing, shattering; she could withstand battle after battle, death, loss, the dark side, but she cannot withstand this.  The Jedi have abandoned her to die, for something she didn’t do.  

 Ahsoka is innocent. She didn’t do this, how could they think she did this, she’s innocent, innocentinnocentinnocentinnocent–

 Her lungs shrink until she can barely breathe and her chest heaves, desperate for air that’s right in front of her.  Tremors wrack her hands, her limbs, her whole body; her vision becomes clouded with tears, and she curls up even tighter, trying to stitch the gaping wound in her chest back together, but it won’t be contained.

 They were going to kill her. They were going to kill her.  She was going to die, the order has left her to die for something she didn’t do; a firing squad appears before her in her mind, familiar armor and blasters she knows almost as well as her sabers pointed straight at her.

 There’s a dull roar in her ears drowning out the humming of the ray shields that have been her only company for the last two days, and it’s all she can do not to scream as she loses everything.  Grey durasteel walls closed in on her, trapping her, and suddenly she can’t even do that.

 Ahsoka’s throat is raw and her ragged screams tear through the facility around, falling on deaf ears.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

“Chancellor, please, I beg you!  Master Skywalker is still conducting an investigation, if you could–”

 “My dear, I have no authority in this matter.  The Senate’s decision is final, no matter how much I wish I could help.”  Palpatine’s face appears drawn, darkened by grief; Padmé doesn’t believe it for a moment.

 Anger burns through her as it has been since Palpatine sentenced Ahsoka to die.  The image of him triumphant over a vulnerable, innocent sixteen-year old girl haunts her every waking moment.  She knows it would haunt her nightmares if she slept at all.

 She continues on like he hasn’t spoken. “You could petition the Senate for a stay of execution–”

 “Senator Amidala, I am truly sorry, but…there is nothing more I can do.”  His voice is gentle, like he gives a damn, like this grieves him. She wants to throttle him.  He has enough influence with both parties to do exactly what she asks, but he refuses.  The only thing she can’t figure out is why.  There is nothing to gain from his inaction, nothing but the murder of an innocent girl.

 Something in her face must speak to her emotions because he leans forward.  Before he offers more platitudes, she sighs, and forces the anger in her expression to display something more useful.  “Can you at least grant me permission to speak with her?  The guards have been barring my passage, even though I served as her council.”

 He nods, all grandfatherly, paternal concern, and she has to fight to keep her muscles locked in resignation.  “Of course. I will send instructions to the prison straight away.”

 Still too angry for courtesy, she turns on her heel and stalks out of the room.  The disrespect will cost her down the road, she knows. Speaking with him these days is a dance of what is right and what is necessary to retain any of her political clout. More and more senators are flocking to him as the war continues, voting for any measure he supports without hesitation. There are only a little over two thousand systems willing to oppose him anymore.

 Typho, Dormé, and Moteé wait for her in the antechambers.  “My lady,” Typho begins hesitantly, but he stops when he sees her face.

 “I need you to drop me off at the prison, then head back to my apartments and contact Rabé.  Tell her I want to speak with her tonight.”

 Dormé breaths in sharply. Rabé had gone to join the Naboo Intelligence Force after leaving her service; she’ll have contacts that Padmé doesn’t, ones who could help.  All three of them know what she’s suggesting.  

 After a moment, Typho nods his head.  “I imagine you’ll be wanting to return to Naboo soon, my lady.  These are trying times; you deserve a break.”

 Padmé smiles thinly. “Yes, I believe I will.”  They could all use a rest, she knows.  She stops for a moment, squeezes her eyes shut and lets her shoulder sag under the weight she carries.

 A warm hand comes to rest between them, and Moteé is there, something glimmering in her eyes.  “We’ll have your ship ready for departure after…after this is all over, my lady.”

 “Thank you.”  Then she pushes her shoulders back and marches out of the room, suddenly grateful for the wide skirts of her gown.  They allow her to get to Ahsoka that much faster.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Ventress knows the moment Skywalker’s ship enters the atmosphere; his anger is strong, stronger than anything she has ever felt.  It feels as though the whole planet is suffocating in it, and suddenly those whispers her former master had scoffed at, whispers of twin suns, seem more plausible than ever.

 The future has narrowed down to two paths, neither of them good.  Neither of them certain, for her or anyone else.  One of them is much more likely to end in her death, though, and that is the one where she runs again.

 Precog has never been her talent, but she knows what regret tastes like, with or without the Force. She should have stayed on Coruscant and let him find her there, because the only way this mess ends is in pain. Her pain, Skywalker’s pain, his little apprentice’s pain.  It all felt too much like the way Dooku had abandoned her.

 The Force presses down on her with something like guilt, making her feel small.  Her fear doesn’t help with that; she makes sure to saunter into the landing bay with enough confidence even Kenobi would be fooled.

 Instincts she didn’t know she still had rear up as he exists the ship; primal ones that scream predator and run.  She tilts her head back instead and smirks at him.

 “Well, well, well, look who’s here.  Skywalker, come to beg for my– “

 Her hands fly to her throat as it’s squeezed shut, and she notices wildly that he doesn’t even have to extend a hand to choke the life out of her.  How impressive, she thinks faintly as her lungs cry out for air.

 “I’m sur–prised you’re not– with– your apprentice–” she gasps through the pressure.  Her body is slowly being lifted in the air, and suddenly he’s right in front of her, death on his face.

 “You’re coming with me,” he growls, twitching his hand to yank her closer to him.  “You’re going to go before the Senate and confess to the crimes you framed my padawan for.”

 “Not– your– padawan–anymo–” His grip tightens enough her vocal cords don’t have room to move, and then the panic sets in.  

 Alright.  Even she can admit the banter probably wasn’t a good idea given the circumstances, but old habits die hard.  He starts to drag her toward his ship, still by the throat, and the spots in her vision tell her she won’t last much longer.

 Her own hands flex, using her own power with the force to give herself some breathing room. Skywalker jerks back around, anger surges around them, but before he can kill her– and she knows for certain now that he will– she gasps, “Wasn’t– me!  I wasn’t the– one who– framed her!”

 Everything slows to a crawl, adrenaline speeding up her ability to process to world around her. She feels more than sees the muscles in his flesh hand begin to flex, lives in the space between one heartbeat and the next, and knows it all hinges on Skywalker.

 What a terrifying prospect.

 The moment passes, and his eyes narrow before he abruptly lets go of her.  She collapses on the ground, heaving, and he kneels next to her. His voice is suddenly soft, and all the more chilling for it.

 “Talk.”

 Her glare is a reflex, but the words are harder to force out.  “I heard about your little padawan on the run, and thought she might fetch a large bounty.”  Roughness leaks into her voice, a result of being choked half to death.  When his hand twitches toward his lightsaber she starts again.  “I’ll admit, I was just interested in the money, and maybe a little bit of revenge, but then I realized your fallen padawan and I have a lot in common.”

 The Force sings out a warning two seconds too late, and Skywalker’s anger surges again, so strong she almost chokes on it.  “How dare you compare yourself to Ahsoka.”

 “It’s true!  My master abandoned me, and that’s exactly what you did to her.  You and your precious Jedi Order,” she spits, suddenly disgusted with the lot of them.

 Her muscles seize in fear of another attack, but his eyes widen slightly and she knows she has him.

 “They’re about to execute her, Skywalker, and, where are you? Halfway across the galaxy, instead of by her side.  Pathetic,” she sneers.  

 Despair and desperation pour out of him now, twining with the anger, and she jerks back, not expecting her words to affect him so much.  Ventress catches flashes of what must be his memories– coldsandangergrief, too late, a woman covered in lacerations in his arms– bodies falling to the ground as he howls in rage–

 Her eyes widen as his squeeze shut and he rocks back.  That didn’t feel like something a Jedi would do, not even one who dances on the edge like Skywalker does.  

 “What happened,” he says, and suddenly the anger is gone.  Or at least, it isn’t directed at her anymore.  She’ll take what she can get right now, and puzzle over those memories later.

 She tells him.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Obi-wan and Plo Koon spent the night pouring over schematics and security measures for Ahsoka’s cell block. It was a daunting prospect; there was little room for error in their plan, and none for surprises.

 Her execution was scheduled to be in twelve hours; it had been two and a half days since the end of her trial.  Obi-wan knew Padmé had been making appeals to the Chancellor, but to no avail.  The senator spent the night with Anakin’s padawan, and left early that morning.  Something about that pulled at him in the Force, but there was no time to puzzle it out.

 No one had stopped them on the way out of the Temple; no one had even run into them, which was suspicious enough.  Perhaps they weren’t the only ones who knew this was wrong, but that almost made it worse.

 They were half-way to the sewer entrance chosen as their entrance when Obi-wan’s comm went off.

 Plo looked at him sharply, but he ignored him.  “Anakin,” he answered quietly.  “Have you found something?”

 His former padawan’s voice is completely wrecked, and if he focuses hard enough he can feel that his mind is completely without shielding now.  “It wasn’t Ventress, master.  It was a Jedi who bombed the Temple.”

 Both of them jerk to a stop at that.  “Who?” Plo demanded, stepping close enough to him to appear in the range of the holoprojector.  

“Bariss Offee,” he says darkly, his features twisted with rage.  “She’ll have Ventress’s lightsabers with her.  Please, Obi-wan,” he says, his voice breaking, “You have to get her before the Chancellor, get her to confess.  Ahsoka doesn’t have much time left.”

 Obi-wan nods slowly, shock twisting up in his mind as he agrees and turns off the comm.  He and Plo turn to face each other, caught up in the hesitationsuspicionmistrust curling around them both.  

 “I don’t… I don’t understand,” he says blankly.  “How could Bariss–“

 “There’s no time,” Plo says harshly, and he’s right.  No time to wonder, and no time to argue.  “I will go to apprehend Bariss; continue on with the mission, and keep them from executing her before I can get to the Chancellor.”

 Obi-wan nods jerkily, still swimming in shock, but then shakes his head.  There’s no time.  He sprints, drawing on the Force to edge him onwards, and Plo heads back the way they came.  He does not envy the fallen Padawan now, he thinks grimly.  The price for her deception will be more painful than she imagines; especially if Anakin arrives in time to help arrest her.

 As he heads into the drainage system, something dark curdles in his gut, something twisted and regretful.

 He’s running out of time.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Ahsoka pushes herself upwards on her elbow as one of the troopers cancels the ray shields on her cell. Her face has swollen up, and she knows if she tries to speak now her throat won’t be capable of it; she screamed it into oblivion last night, raging into Padmé’s chest until there was nothing left.

 The troopers come forward and bind her hands and feet, dragging her out of the cell with rough hands on her shoulders.  

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Captain Rex marches up the steps of the facility, Kix, Trapper, Fives, Appo, and Jesse flanking him to the right and left.  He checks his pistols one more time, then pulls his helmet on, indistinguishable from the rest of his brothers.

 It was last minute desperation.  The chances of this working were…well.  There were none.  But Rex knew he would never be able to live with himself if he let this happen without trying to save his Commander.  Just last week they had been flying over a battlefield, fighting for the very Republic that was about to murder her in cold blood.  

 The thought struck a chord with him for a moment; fighting for the Republic that had bought him and his brothers, put them under the command of people like Pong Krell, executed Dogma for saving his life.  Even if this did work, even if by some miracle they all got off scott-free… he wasn’t sure he would be able to do that anymore.

 But this wasn’t the time. They had about thirty minutes before someone discovered the troops from Fox’s command he and his men had ambushed and stolen their armor from.  By then, they needed to have Ahsoka and be well into the Coruscant underworld.

 Cody had found them halfway into their frantic planning; it had stopped Rex’s heart dead for a beat or two, because he and Cody were close but Cody was a good soldier through and through.  He followed orders to the letter.  

 He hadn’t said anything, though; just given them a comm number and a name, then walked back out. The fact that it never happened didn’t need to be said, and Rex couldn’t ask any more from him because Cody has given them the one thing they didn’t have: a way to get her off Coruscant.  A besalisk named Dexter Jetsetter had given them transport, no questions asked.

 No fees, either, but when Fives had voiced his suspicions, the man said he was an old friend of Qui-gon Jinn’s.  Rex was the only one who recognized the name, but it was enough.

 They reached the entrance to the prison unchallenged, looking exactly like a shift-change.  Rex only hoped it was enough, but there was a sinking feeling in his stomach that was getting harder and harder to ignore.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Ahsoka tries to drag her feet, tried to wrench herself from their grip, but she’s still tired, so tired; exhaustion has seeped into her very soul, and her attempts at escape get weaker and weaker each time.  

 Finally, the troopers seem to have enough of her resistance and one of them pulls a stun baton from nowhere, jabbing it into her unprotected side.  Ahsoka cries out, the electricity seizing her body in a way that’s too familiar, but hurts the same as it always does.  

 She sags in their grip, wishing she could collapse on the floor and lie there, pain stiffening her joints, but they haul her up and push her foreword.  

 As they continue on, she quietly collapses inwards.  There’s no escaping this; no last-minute rescue.  All she can think, with each painful step, is that she wants nothing more than to see Anakin one last time.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Padmé knows what this favor cost Rabé to give her; she owes her friend a bottle of Corellian brandy and a long explanation at the very least, when she makes it out of here with Ahsoka.  There had been no time for any of that last night, when she called her over the most secure channel either of them have; it’s the one she uses with Anakin, when he’s off-world.   Rabé had taken one look at her face and given her everything she needed; Padmé’s not sure she wants to know what she looks like, right now.

 Localized security system blockers cost a fortune; the programming involved was extensive, and it required a backdoor into the system you were circumventing regardless.  Not to mention they were illegal in the Republic. Her senatorial access codes had done the trick, though, and now she was crawling through the ventilation system towards Ahsoka’s cell.  It’s just tight enough that the pistol strapped to her inner thigh is desperately uncomfortable, but she’s done things like this before.

 Gregor and Moteé were waiting on her ship, ready to leave the moment she gets there.  Dormé is in a meeting with Mon and Bail as Senator Amidala, and she trusts her friends to not notice the slight differences in their bone structure and height, to provide an alibi for her when she eventually needs one. Rabé isn’t the only one she owes an explanation to, but they’ll understand.  This– this madness, this terrible injustice had to be stopped. She can barely believe it’s happening herself.

 The Chancellor and the Senate had fallen so far, and Padmé’s faith in both was shaken to its core. She wasn’t sure there was any going back from this, but right now that didn’t matter.  All that mattered was Ahsoka.  As long as Padmé got their before they took her from her cell, they would be in the clear, and there were still ten hours left until she was scheduled for…

 There’s still time. That was all that mattered now: there’s still time.  Padmé will make it there in time.

 She will.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 The distance between her and her death is closing so rapidly Ahsoka can almost feel the individual seconds slipping away from her, step by step.  Her vision narrows until all she sees are her own feet carrying her forward, the achingly familiar sounds of clone armor fading from her mind as her heartbeat echoes through her body.  So few of those left, now.

 She’s teetering on the edge now, between panic and…something.  Something familiar.  A memory blooms in her mind, tinged with sadness because suddenly she knows for certain…

 “It’s called moving meditation, Snips,” Skyguy says, completely relaxed for once.

 She makes a face.  “Moving meditation?  Isn’t that kind’ve a paradox, Master?”

 “Not really,” he chuckles.  “Meditation is about calming the mind, allowing the Force to flow through you.  Not everyone can do that while sitting still; we can’t all be like Obi-wan.”

 “Well, you can’t, anyway,” she grins, and he shakes his head fondly.

 “Did you want to learn how to do it or not, Ahsoka?”

 Ahsoka nods eagerly, and he gives her a real smile this time. “Alright.  Before you so rudely interrupted me,” he says pointedly, “I was using a kata to do it; that’s what most people use, because for Jedi they’re almost as familiar as breathing.  It keeps your mind free of any distractions, but takes just enough focus so you don’t get restless.

 “Of course,” he qualifies, “you can do it with any movement really as long as you take the time to focus, because the Force will always be with you, Snips.

 “Ready to try it with me?”

 “Ready.”

 …she’s never going to see her Master again.  But he taught her well; he taught her everything.  How to meditate, how to use her lightsabers, battle strategies; he taught her how to fly a ship, and how to crash one.  He taught her how to be brave, and she won’t disappoint his teachings now by going to her death in fear.

 Her footsteps jar her body with every step, and she allows the motion to fill her mind until it is all there is.  Breathe in. Step.  Breathe out.  Step.  

 In.

 Step.

 Out.

 Step.

 Everything slows down around her as the Force flows freely through her.  A powerful ally, she thinks distantly, recalling Master Yoda’s teachings from the crèche.  

 Not powerful enough to free her; she knows that for certain now, and releases the panic it would have caused into the Force, allowing its currents to carry away her fear.  What it does is let her See.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Obi-wan creeps through the facility, using the blind spots he memorized last night to remain undetected by the cameras, and the Force to redirect every clone he comes across.  

 He stretches his senses out in the hopes of preventing any catastrophes before they arrive; he knows time is running out faster than it should, but he will not fail here.  All he has to do is stall until Plo can bring Bariss before the Chancellor, and clear her of any wrongdoing.  

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 The Force in the Temple trembles as Jedi cross blades for the first time in centuries, clashing with terrible anger as they battle across the halls.  Sparks fly from their lightsabers and leave marks on the walls.

 Guards had come running at the first sign of conflict, but the pair are fighting viciously enough their interference would only spell destruction for one or the other.

 Bariss snarls in desperation as her blades lock with Master Plo Koon’s again, and she heaves desperately against them to give herself room to break through the window and fall to the courtyard below, uncaring of the audience they gain in moving the fight down there.

 Plo nearly snarls back as he jumps after her.  He barely checks his anger as he follows her, knowing if he doesn’t she will die here, from his desperation and her own.

 She comes at him from the side, almost catching him off guard.  He barely gets his sabers up in time, and wonders darkly whether they could be held responsible for the deadly dueling skills a Padawan specializing in healing had. Perhaps they could.  But her actions in framing Ahsoka speak to a deeper, more personal darkness in Master Luminara’s apprentice.

 And there is another mystery to puzzle over, when this ordeal is behind them: why Luminara could not sense Bariss’s intentions before they were all reduced to this.

 He twists his blades around, pushing the hilt of one of Ventress’s lightsabers out of the fallen Padawan’s hand, but she jumps away from him, snatching it back up and turning to face him again.

 As she attacks once more, all he can think is that there is no time left for this; their luck is about to run out.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Padmé pulls herself over Ahsoka’s cell with a muffled groan, pushing through the aches in her arms and shoulders.  She’ll still have to get out of here with Ahsoka, she knows, and it’s the only though that keeps her going.

 The grate leading into the holding sticks for a moment, sending a spike of adrenaline through her, but it slides up and over once she gives it another tug.  She can’t see Ahsoka immediately from this angle, but the cot is still hidden from view.  

 “Ahsoka,” she calls quietly, but there’s no answer.  Something takes root inside her, something tight and aching that makes her breath catch in her throat.

 Her movements become frantic as she lowers herself through the hole in the ceiling and drops neatly into the cell.  As she looks around, her stomach rolls and the world drops out from underneath her.

 Ahsoka isn’t here. She’s gone already; they– they’re executing her ahead of schedule.  The Chancellor must have realized what she was going to do and–

 Padmé slaps a hand over her mouth, shaking her head.  No, no, nonononono– this can’t be happening.  She can’t….

 Her legs give out from underneath her and she collapses on the floor, trying to calm her breathing because if someone finds her here she’ll be arrested on sight.  The moment stretches out into eternity, the weight of Ahsoka’s death on her conscience because she was too late.

 Anakin’s padawan was going to die because she failed; they had all failed, today.  Democracy had failed, condemning an innocent being to death.

 Her eyes squeezed shut and tears began rolling down her face.  She was supposed to have more time! It wasn’t supposed to end like this; it wasn’t supposed to end at all.

 Padmé curls up in the empty cell as her faith in the Republic, in herself, shatters.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 They make it halfway to her cell before Fox’s men catch on; then every step is a battle.

 Fox’s men are good, but they’ve been here on Coruscant for too long; Rex and his men have been on the front lines, serving under the best strategists in the Republic.  Their numbers aren’t an issue, are something closer to an advantage, because with the size of these hallways it’s easier to bottleneck the larger squads they come across.

 The problem is that they’re shooting to stun, and Fox’s men are shooting to kill.  Rex takes a blaster to the shoulder that’s almost blindingly painful, and he thinks he saw Kix take one to the thigh earlier but there hasn’t been time to stop and check, and he’s keeping up well enough.

 They’re almost to the right cell block when he gets an inkling something’s wrong.  There aren’t enough guards here, not for a prisoner as high profile and dangerous as Ahsoka; no for a prisoner who’s already tried to escape once.  

 He ignores it, though, ignores the dread creeping through his body like he had on Umbara before it all went to shit.  Fives can feel it too, he knows; sees it in the way his brother keeps eying every corner like its hiding a trap for them.

 “This is it!” Jesse yells, gesturing to the door.  The ray shields are still active, so they all turn to cover him as he yanks open the panel to splice it open; they weren’t able to get ahold of the new codes in time.

 None of them think to check the cell before it’s open, and Rex feels shock start to kick in as they see who’s inside.

 Senator Amidala, of all people, is collapsed in the middle of the cell with tears streaming down her face, shaking her head.  Rex takes in the stealthwear she’s in, the open grate in the ceiling, the device on her belt, and has an inkling of what’s just happened.

 “She’s… she’s already gone,” the senator gets out, her voice hitching with grief, and Rex closes his eyes in resignation.

 “She could still be in the facility,” Fives says, his tone dull.  

 They’re all silent for a moment, until Trapper calls from outside the cell.  “We’ve got incoming, maybe thirty seconds.  Whatever we’re gonna do, we’ll have to do it fast.”

 It’s Appo who speaks up. “I’m not giving up yet; not without a fight.”  The steel in his voice makes them all straighten their shoulders, and he sees the Senator take a deep breath.

 “Let’s go, then,” she says, pulling herself to her feet and drawing a diplomat’s pistol out of nowhere.

 “Senator,” Rex says haltingly, before seeing the look in her eyes.  

 “We don’t have time for this! If we’re gonna go, it has to be now!” Trapper yells again.

 The senator races out ahead of them and they fall in around her.  Appo memorized the way to the execution site, just in case, but they’d all hoped it wouldn’t be necessary.  They should have known better.  Known it wouldn’t be that easy.

 Fox’s men are two corridors over, waiting for them.  Senator Amidala ducks easily back behind the corner and starts taking shots at them, and they all do the same, but at this point they all know it’s an empty gesture.

 They’re out of time.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Ahsoka breathes in. Steps. Breathes out.  Steps.  Sees her friends racing to save her, failing, falling.  Love, a voice inside her whispers. Attachment, says another.  

 Unconditional, murmurs the first one, and it sounds like Anakin.  She knows now, she loves him.  Loves all of them, unconditionally, and it hurts so much that for a moment she can’t breathe; she almost loses her focus.

 There is no emotion, there is peace.  She breathes in.  Steps. Breathes out, and releases her emotions into the Force: the fear of dying, the anger at the Order, at the Republic, the pain of losing all of them.  

 Breathes in.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.  Ahsoka Sees, she knows; they all tried to come for her, all tried to save her; they did everything they could, and it eases her mind.

 Breathes out.

 There is no passion, there is serenity.  It hurts to let go of this, but it’s easier now than it was before.  She offers her passion for the Republic that failed her, for the people she tried to protect, and for the Order that had been her whole life, to the Force, trusting that none of these will fall without her when she’s gone.  It whisks them away, leaving her mind clearer than before, offering her strength to go on in return.

 Breathes in. Steps.  Breathes out.  Steps.

 There is no chaos, there is harmony. The troopers force her into position in front of the wall and she kneels gracefully, resting her hands on her thighs and feeling the Force settle around her; it swirls as it always does, caught in the gravity of every living thing, before settling into a more solid presence.  Something warm, and comforting; fierce, protective, loving.  Light.

 Ahsoka feels Force binding them all together: Master Plo stands over Bariss, his lightsaber pointed down; Padmé and Rex relentlessly fight to reach her in time; Obi-wan steps into the other side of the execution chamber, close enough to shout to her;

 Anakin, flying as fast as he can to reach her in time.

 Anakin, she thinks.  Skyguy.  I love you, Master.

 Daughter, the Force murmurs to her.  Come with me.

 There is no death, there is the Force.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Obi-wan reaches his hand out to Ahsoka where she kneels in front of the clones as they prepare to fire.

 “NO!” he shouts, pushing at her executioners with the Force, but he’s too late.  The first shot strikes her right between her ribs; the second in her stomach;

 The third goes through her heart and time slows as she collapses to the ground, her presence in the Force dissipating into nothingness.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Yoda clutches at his chest as the Force screams at him, at all of them.  The younglings around him begin to cry out, confused and hurt, but it is Master Plo who whispers “No,” and collapses to the ground, bracing himself against it.

 Bariss trembles with fear, and anger, and confusion; when Master Plo asks bitterly, “Is this what you wanted, Padawan?”, tears slowly drip down her face.

 “N–no,” she heaves, shaking her head frantically.  “This is what I wanted at all.”

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Ventress feels the Force surge with the anger of a thousand Jedi and bows her head, letting her own join their chorus.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Padmé rushes into the chamber with the squad of clones behind her and stutters to a halt.

 There are still bodies scattered about the room, unmoving, and Obi-wan sits in the center of it all gently cradling Ahsoka’s head in his lap.  

 She distantly feels her weapon slide out of her hand and onto the floor, but it doesn’t matter. Her footsteps are muffled over the roaring in her ears as she makes her way over to Obi-wan and collapses next to him, reaching out a hand to Ahsoka’s face.

 “We were too late,” Obi-wan says thickly, and Padmé bows her head until it rests on Ahsoka’s chest and sobs.

 ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 Anakin clutches the arms of his chair tightly, letting Artoo pilot back because he doesn’t trust himself, not now.

 Anakin. Ahsoka’s voice sounds in his head like they’re in the same room, like they’re right next to each other, not half a galaxy apart.

 He bolts out of his chair. Ahsoka? He calls back.

 Skyguy, she says, and he feels something in his chest shatter. Snips, he says desperately.  Snips, please.

 I love you, Master.

 I love you, too, so much; just hold on, Ahsoka, hold–

 Their training bond snaps and Anakin collapses, falling to the floor of the ship.  He feels her die, feels something in his heart burn and he screams.  He screams and the Force explodes around him, sending waves of anger through it.

 He screams and the ship begins to vibrate as he loses control, Artoo rolling up behind him to ask what’s wrong before the ship suddenly drops out of hyperspace, unable to withstand his loss of control.

 The ship loses power and Anakin lies there, screaming at the absence in his head where his Padawan used to be.

 I thought we had more time, he thinks blindly.  Ahsoka, please, come back.  I’m sorry, I should have been there, I’m so sorry I–

 I thought we had more time.

[pixelatedperils]

#of course the reason hes giving him a smooch is to distract him long enough to let the pot burn#and theyre forced to either grab fast food or let dave throw a steak on the grill#i do think sunny was helping cause BOYS DONT KNOW STROGANOFF. and she sang the song the entire time!!!!#without fully grasping the war crimes shes committing#and otacon just thought he could trust anime girls

When your beautiful wife makes his Special Anime Beef Stroganoff™