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jovialyouthmusic · 10 months

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MC Mixer #3--Alice x Bastien

Here is my submission for week 3 of @choicesmcmadness ‘s MC Mixer!

Hello, Trend readers! Check out this online exclusive sneak peek from our intrepid arts and lifestyle reporter, Aisha Levins, and her interview with Lord Maxwell Beaumont about his upcoming book, The Royal Romance.

—Ana de Luca

***

Aisha: Lord Beaumont, thank you for taking the time to sit down with me to talk about your upcoming book.

Maxwell: Please, call me Maxwell, and thank you for having me.

Aisha: Your book, The Royal Romance, is one of the most hotly anticipated books in the last few years and from what I understand, preorders are through the roof. What inspired you to write this book?

Maxwell: In a word—Alice. She’s one of my favorite people and she’s really become a sister to me. And her story is a literal fairytale, starting as an American bartender only to rise to become the Champion of the Realm and a duchess, married to the love of her life.

Aisha: The Cordonian public has been fascinated by her from the beginning, and then the tumultuous stories in the press…can we expect to hear the truth behind the tabloids?

Maxwell: Absolutely. And trust me, the real story is even more exciting than what the public knows.

Aisha: How does Duchess Alice feel about you writing this book?

Maxwell: I think she was a little surprised at first because no one knew I was working on a book. (laughs) But she’s been incredibly supportive and at her request, a portion of the proceeds are going to Voices Unsilenced.

Aisha: That’s Lady Rashida Omari’s organization for victims of sexual violence, correct?

Maxwell: Yes, and if you remember the tabloids, you’ll know why it’s so important to Alice, too. She, Rashida, and Olivia have been doing a lot for that foundation and I’m glad to help in my own way.

Aisha: That’s wonderful to hear. If I can, I’d like to switch gears a bit. Now I know you can’t reveal too much about the book—

Maxwell: Hey, I’ve gotta have a few surprises for you!

Aisha: Of course, of course. But despite being in the tabloids so often, Duchess Alice and Duke Bastien remain a bit of a mystery to the general public as they don’t often give a lot of personal interviews outside of the standard press conferences.

[Editor’s Note: Check back in next month’s issue when Ana de Luca sits down for a rare, exclusive interview with the Duke and Duchess of Valtoria!]

Maxwell: It’s true, I’m really the party face of the family. And I have the best dance moves!

Aisha: That’s certainly uncontested. Speaking of parties, I was hoping to ask a few questions about the duke and duchess and their party habits since the press is not often invited into many of the court events.

Maxwell: Sure, fire away!

Aisha: Tell me—do the duke and duchess arrive on time or fashionably late?

Maxwell: Bastien’s as punctual as all get out, probably from his time as the head of the Royal Guard. Alice is…well, not, but Bertrand would kill all of us if we weren’t on time so between Bertrand and Bastien, they’re usually on time.

Aisha: And what are their drinks of choice?

Maxwell: Bastien…well, he doesn’t usually drink much at court functions. Sometimes a glass of champagne or wine with dinner, but otherwise not much. Now, at private parties…oh, the stories I could tell about Bertrand’s bachelor party…

Aisha: I know our readers would love to hear them!

Maxwell: (awkwardly clearing his throat) I’d better not, I don’t know how happy Bertrand would be with me sharing those. Let’s just say there was beer and a bear and we all survived.

Aisha: As always, no one parties like the Beaumonts. Maybe in the sequel?

Maxwell: Most definitely.

Aisha: And what about Alice’s drink of choice?

Maxwell: Well since she’s pregnant, these days she just sticks to water. But as everyone knows, she was a bartender before we all came crashing into her life, so she has a refined whiskey palate. Red Spot was always one of her favorites.

Aisha: I imagine her bartending skills aren’t often needed at parties anymore.

Maxwell: Not at court functions, but I love having dinner at her and Bastien’s place because he’s an amazing cook and Alice always whips up the most incredible cocktails.

Aisha: Any chance for a recipe or two to end up in the book?

Maxwell: I could probably convince her to let me add a couple to the appendix. The one she made for my last birthday was amazing. I have no idea what was in it, but it was delicious. I had four.

Aisha: What are they like at court functions—are they wallflowers or social butterflies?

Maxwell: Bastien is definitely the more reserved of the two—he’s the strong, silent type, you know—but Alice is definitely the one befriending everyone. I mean, she managed to befriend most of her competitors during the social season, she won over Cordonia after she was unfairly maligned by the press after the social season, she’s raising a ton of funds and positive press for Voices Unsilenced, and she inspired the book I wrote that you’re interviewing me about today. Like I said before, she’s the best.

***

The full interview with Lord Maxwell Beaumont will be available in our next print issue.

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jovialyouthmusic · 1 year

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Friendship

Series: None, this is a one-shot and you can find those here.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Constantine x Eleanor, Jackson x Bianca, but really it's about the beginning of Liam and Drake's friendship.

Rating: G

Warnings for this chapter: None

Word Count: 1,894

A/N: I had written the first couple of paragraphs over a year ago then put it away with no real idea where it was going. Then @kingliamappreciationweek happened and I decided to dust this off and finish it for childhood/family and friendships/relationships. I'm late, but here it is.

My other stuff: Master List.

Liam was a serious child. Even as a toddler, people would remark about his solemn expression. It wasn’t that he never smiled, he did. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy, he was. There had just always been an aura of thoughtfulness surrounding him. The portrait his mother had commissioned of him for his second birthday showed a somber child. He sat in an elaborate Baroque throne chair with dark red crushed velvet upholstery and a gold leaf finish. He was dressed in a toddler suit with short pants, showing his legs, still chubby with baby fat, his ebony hair brushed back from his face as he gazed solemnly out at the photographer.

Despite that, he was a friendly child who learned by the age of four that being charming got him whatever he wanted from the nannies and the kitchen staff.

A heartfelt, “Please?” netted him cookies, cakes, candies, and plenty of baklava. No one could withstand the cuteness of the little prince. Especially his mother.

His first smiles, at three months old, were for Eleanor. As he grew into a toddler and preschooler, she remained his favorite person, that somber expression turning into a wide faced grin at the sound of her voice or the sight of her face.

She read to him, she played with him, she took him on walks in the garden. She was the antidote to his father’s seriousness.

By the age of six, Liam had learned that his father’s affections were less frequent and harder earned. The bulk of Constantine’s attention went to Liam’s older brother, because Leo was going to be king, and Liam was not. He was only the spare.

Liam never resented Leo for it. He loved him. Leo was his second favorite person in the world, after Eleanor. He started toddling along behind him as soon as he could walk. Leo was older, cooler, and knew all the best games.

Leo was also a frequent rule breaker, while Liam was not. On this particular day, Leo and Olivia had decided to sneak away from the nannies and play in the woods behind the palace.

Leo had read to him until he bored of it. Pushing the stack of books away he exclaimed, “I can’t stand being inside for another moment! Let’s go out to play!”

“Finally!” Olivia cast the copy of Little Women she’d been reading to the side as she jumped up from the oversized beanbag in the corner of the library.

“I want to come too!” Liam scrambled quickly to his feet. He had learned the hard way that if he didn’t keep up with the older kids, he’d be left behind.

“Sure,” Leo shrugged, “but you have to be quiet until we get past the hedge maze.”

“Past the hedge maze?” Liam asked in alarm, “We aren’t supposed to go past the hedge maze! Father said-“

“Father doesn’t have to know, does he?”

“Maybe you should stay here, Liam,” Olivia said sagely, “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

Liam thought for a moment, taking in Leo’s amusement and Olivia’s smug sureness that he would stay behind. He drew in a deep breath and squared his shoulders, “No. I’ll go!”

“Are you sure, Li?” Leo asked with a laugh, “Last time you got caught breaking the rules, you cried.”

Liam flushed with embarrassment. Father had been so angry. He didn’t like to make anyone angry, “I didn’t mean to break the vase.”

“Hey,” the amusement disappeared from Leo’s face, replaced with sympathy, “It’s okay! It wasn’t even your fault, I’m the one that talked you into playing football in the great room!”

“It’s okay, Liam,” Olivia placed a hand on his shoulder as she leaned down, “but I heard there’s fresh baklava in the kitchen. You should go get some!”

“Yeah…okay….” He agreed half-heartedly.

He picked up an illustrated copy of Where the Wild Things Are with a sigh as he watched Leo and Olivia sneak giggling down the hallway toward the garden doors.

Thirty minutes later he was perched on a stool at one of the marble counters in the place kitchen, shoving baklava into his mouth as he turned the pages of his book when he heard unfamiliar voices.

He turned away from his book in interest as the head of the King’s Guard entered the room with a man and a woman Liam had never seen before. Trailing behind the adults were two children.

Liam’s eyes widened as he took in the new arrivals. A little girl with dark curls and wide eyes took in everything around her in wonder. A boy that looked to be about the same age as himself kept his gaze trained on the floor indifferently, a shock of chestnut hair falling into his eyes; hands stuffed into his pockets.

Liam twisted back and forth on the stool in excitement, nearly tumbling out of it as he did.

“Careful there young master!” The pastry chef caught him before he could fall.

“Sorry!” Liam exclaimed as he twisted out of her grasp, his head spinning to keep track of the children, “Who are they? I want to go say hi! Can I?”

“Certainly!” She laughed as she released him and watched as he sprinted across the travertine tile.

The group had moved into the formal dining room when Liam caught up with them, skidding around a corner and colliding directly with the head of the King’s Guard. “Ooof! Sorry!”

“It’s alright,” Captain Sullivan helped him to his feet, “What’s the big hurry?”

“I wanted to meet the kids!” Liam ducked his head, suddenly a little shy, “Who are they? What are they doing here?”

“Okay, okay, slow down!” The captain laughed, “I’ll introduce you! Your Highness, this is the newest member of the guard, Jackson Walker, his wife Bianca and their children, Drake and Savannah. Everyone, this is Prince Liam.”

Liam sucked in a breath of surprise; he knew that some members of the guard lived at the palace. He felt like he was about to explode with excitement. Please let them live here, he prayed furiously. Out loud he said, “I’m very pleased to meet you.”

“And we’re very pleased to meet you,” Jackson shook his hand.

The girl shoved her way in front of her parents, a look of awe on her face, “Are you an honest to God, real life prince?”

“I am.” Liam grinned at her.

“It’s nice to meet you Liam,” Bianca told him before pushing the boy forward, “Isn’t it Drake? Can you say hi to the prince?”

Drake shuffled forward awkwardly, lifted his eyes to Liam’s face for a moment then dropped them as he mumbled, “Hi.”

“Can they come play with me?” Liam directed the question to the adults, lacing the fingers of both hands through each other as he pleaded, “Pleeeeease?”

“Oh, yes!” Savannah squealed, clapping her hands as she jumped up and down, adding her pleas to his, “Can we please?”

“I think that would be okay,” Jackson replied, “What you think, son? Would you like to go play with Liam?”

The sullen faced little boy lifted his copper and gold flecked eyes again and found Liam’s face. Drake’s determination to hate everything about this new place faltered a little as saw the genuine excitement bubbling over in the other child. “I guess that would be okay. What do you want to do?”

“Yes!” Liam jumped up into the air with joy, “We can play whatever you want! Hide and seek, or tag in the gardens, we have board games, video games, we could ride bicycles if we get the nannies to supervise us or we could play sword fighting-“

“You have swords?” Drake’s eyes widened with interest.

“Wooden ones but-“

“Can I dad?” Drake turned to Jackson hopefully.

“Yes, go on. We’ll come find you later.” Jackson squeezed Bianca’s hand as they watched their children scurry down the hall with the prince. Relief flooded his wife’s features, mirroring his own. Drake had been the child they had been most worried about adjusting to the move, but he seemed to be warming to the place already.

“What’s it like being a prince and living in a palace?” Savannah asked as she hurried to keep up with the older boys.

“Boring,” came the instant reply.

“Really?” Savannah sounded disappointed.

Drake laughed and Liam’s smile broadened at the sound as he elaborated, “The other kids in the palace are all older than me and no one ever wants to play.”

He was lonely.

“Drake comes up with all the best games,” Savannah told him.

“Is that right?”

“That’s right,” Drake agreed, “Where is this playroom you’re taking us to?”

“Fifth door on the left,” Liam pointed down a long hallway.

“Race you,” Drake grinned at him, “Winner gets to pick his sword first!”

“Okay-“ Liam started to agree but Drake was already sprinting down the hall. It only took a second for Liam to realize what was happening and tear off after him.

The three children tumbled through the playroom door panting and shrieking with laughter.

Drake collapsed onto the floor in purposeful exaggeration as he gasped, “I’m dying….but I won!”

“You cheated you mean!” Liam laughed as he dropped onto the ground next to him.

“It wasn’t cheating,” Drake corrected him, “It’s called gaining a tactical advantage!”

Liam was used to other children being awkward around him, letting him win games or actively trying to avoid playing with him, because of his status. The young prince was absolutely delighted by this new playmate’s utter lack of concern about his title.

Drake had been convinced that the princes would be stuffy, stuck up and boorish. He was thrilled to be proven wrong. He hadn’t wanted to move, yet again. He hadn’t wanted to give up his friends, yet again. His father had promised that this duty station was more permanent. He had been determined not to get attached to anything or anyone, but as they staged epic battles with the wooden swords, of which Liam had let him claim the best one, he found the heaviness that had sat in his chest since his parent’s had announced this move starting to loosen.

The boys quickly became inseparable.

In the weeks and months that followed, Liam became less somber, at least around Drake. He was still a serious, thoughtful child, but he had a quicker smile as Drake drew out his playful side. Drake became less guarded, at least around Liam. He was still a slow to warm up child, but he turned outward a little more as Liam gained his trust.

“Drake seems to be adjusting well,” Eleanor remarked as a maid set the tea service in front of her.

“He is!” Bianca agreed happily, “It’s been four months and he seems completely back to normal! I think it’s because of Liam, honestly.”

Eleanor nodded with a smile on her lips as she blew on her tea to cool it, “Liam is so happy to have a playmate of his own. He’s a different child now. I think this friendship is good for both of them.”

The two women turned to watch as the boys raced through the gardens, shouts and laughter filtering through the late morning air. It was a beautiful day, the children were happy and for the moment, all was well in Cordonia.

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jovialyouthmusic · 1 year

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WTF happened to Tumblr? I can't directly answer comments on my posts. I can't even see all of them at the same time, just within each individual reblog. Is there a setting?

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jovialyouthmusic · 1 year

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Inspired by @katedrakeohd I brought this out and dusted it off. I enjoyed writing it and hope folk enjoy reading it, though it seems many are MIA.

Neville and the Devil

A Fairy Story

@dcbbw @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @choicesarehard @ritachacha @tornbetween2loves @bobasheebaby

This is a bit rough round the edges, but I didn’t want the subject matter cluttering up my thoughts for any longer than necessary. Hope you enjoy it…

‘Neville darling – Penelope’s here to play with you!’ Lady Vancouer called her son down from his room where he sat collating his collection of pressed flowers.

‘Coming mother dearest’ Neville tripped down the stairs. He loved playing with Penelope, she was so pretty. He worshipped her, but there was a problem. Penelope acted like a little goody goody when the grown ups were around – and that was when he was happiest. She was sweet and kind and good, and did all the things that little girls should.

But when they were alone, she was horrible. She pulled his wavy brown hair that his mother loved so much, she kicked the little dog that was his beloved pet, and ripped the petals off the flowers in the garden. He desperately wanted her to be good all the time, but every time the grown ups left them together it was the same.

‘Why do you like that little poodle – it’s disgusting’ she said as she crammed her mouth with the biscuits his mother had left out for them, taking the whole plateful ‘All they do is make horrid noises and poo everywhere’ Neville’s eyes filled with tears as she sprayed biscuit crumbs from her mouth. He knew he would be blamed for the mess, but he was determined to improve Penelope’s demeanour and habits.

‘Petal is so adorable, can’t you see, Penelope?’ he said ‘She’s so sweet, she can dance – look!’ He held up his hand and the little dog stood up on its hind legs and pranced around. Penelope rolled her eyes.

‘It’s sickening’ she scoffed ‘you’re such a pansy, Neville.’ She got up and picked a book off the bookcase, throwing it on the floor for the petals he had carefully been pressing to fall out. He scrambled to pick then up and save them, and luckily she ignored his efforts – in the past she had picked them up and crushed them in her hand, laughing as he cried.

‘Please Penelope, don’t be like this.’ He pleaded, but she laughed harshly.

‘Why should I? I’m a Lady, I can do what I like. You should try being naughty, it’s much more fun’ Neville was scandalised at the thought of being deliberately ill-disciplined. He endured her naughtiness for the rest of the afternoon, constantly pleading with her to be good until she got tired of him whining and pulled his hair hard and threatened to throw his little dog into the river.

When she had gone, he endured his mother telling him off for the mess in the playroom.

‘I don’t understand why you’re so naughty when Penelope comes over. Perhaps we should tell her mother not to bring her any more.’ Neville was dismayed.

‘No please mother, don’t do that, I promise to be good’ he pleaded. He still believed that through sheer force of goodness, he could persuade her to change her ways. He longed to press flowers with her, have her laugh when Petal did her tricks, and share biscuits and sweets with him.

‘Very well, I will give you another chance Neville, but if you continue to act like this I will have no choice but to deny you Penelope’s company.’ He hung his head and promised his mother he would try harder.

That night, Neville lay awake in his bed, wishing fervently for a solution to his dilemma.

‘Please please please, let Penelope learn to be good’ he whispered to his teddy bear, squeezing it tight. To his surprise, he saw the toy blink and he dropped it in alarm. He watched in horror as it grew and grew until it was the size of a grown up, and then its features changed and it morphed into a man with red skin, a pointy beard and a strange hairdo that looked like horns.

‘Wh – who are you?’ asked Neville. The stranger smiled

‘I have many names – Beelzebub, Mephistopheles…’ He looked at Neville ‘You’re a bit young to remember those names, so just call me Satan’ He gaped

‘You’re the devil?’ he gasped

‘Yes I am Neville, but I am not as people say I am – I’m not all evil’ he looked sad ‘Just like your little friend’

‘You mean Penelope?’ he asked ‘I don’t understand why she’s so naughty when she’s alone with me’ The devil looked sadder still, shaking his head.

‘It’s such a pity – so pretty, and so bad.’ He looked at Neville. ‘There is a way to change things, you know’ Neville’s eyes grew wide.

‘How? I’d do anything for Penelope, I love her so much’ The devil grinned

‘Anything, Neville?’

‘Anything’ he said vehemently.

‘Very well, then know this – she’s bad because you are good’ Neville gaped at his visitor

‘You mean…’

‘Every time you are bad, she will be good, it’s as simple as that, it’s an unfortunate illness that she has, but you can make her better’

‘Oh’ he said, crestfallen ‘But – but I don’t like being bad’ The stranger frowned.

‘You must do it for Penelope’ he said ‘at the moment she is only bad with you - before long she will misbehave in front of her parents and make them sad. Eventually she will be like that all the time. You are he only one who can save her. Can you do that?’ Neville hung his head and a single tear rolled down his cheek.

‘I truly love her’ he said ‘I’ll try’ The devil smiled triumphantly

‘Good boy Neville’ he said ‘Next time she comes, give it a try’ As Neville watched, the stranger shrank and transformed back into his beloved teddy bear. He looked at it askance and decided not to take it back into bed again, instead leaving it on the floor and choosing another one.

The next time Penelope came to play, he couldn’t help noticing she was rude to her mother, and realised that her condition was getting worse. When they were alone, she reached out for the biscuits, but he snatched the plate away from her, amazed at his boldness. She blinked in surprise, and her eyes filled with tears. He ate them all and put down the empty plate, mortified at his actions, but Penelope started to change. She looked over at his poodle.

‘Can you make Petal do some tricks Neville? I want to see her dance like last time’ He gritted his teeth.

‘No, it’s boring’ he said, and Penelope burst into tears

‘Why are you so horrid Neville?’ she sobbed. His heart broke and he so wanted to be good, but he knew he had to misbehave for her sake.

That was only the beginning. The devil was exactly right – Penelope became sweeter and more lovely and feminine the more he did the wrong things. He loved her so fervently that his behaviour so dismayed his mother that she disowned him and left him in the care of his father, who didn’t care much for him and mostly left him to his own devices.

He had to keep finding ways of being boorish and vile. The thing he found to be most effective was looking down his nose at everyone else, and the worst of his bile was reserved for Drake Walker, the son of the head of the Royal Guard, who lived in the Palace beside the Princess. He poured scorn on him and every time he did, Penelope grew lovelier and better natured. He gave his poodle to her, saying it was a nuisance and he didn’t want it any more, all the time his heart breaking.

Eventually he forgot entirely how to be good and nice, and Penelope remained the sweetest kindest person at the Royal Court. Neville never cuddled the teddy bear that had transformed into the Devil again, putting it on a shelf in a bedroom in a far off wing of the Mansion where he lived and locking the door.

And so it was on the first night of Charlotte’s social season that the odious Neville Vancouer watched Penelope dancing, watery eyed and knowing she would never be his. He loved her with all his heart – although he wasn’t sure if he had a heart any more…

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jovialyouthmusic · 1 year

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Drake Walker and (MC) Kate Darling photo edits and family album:

This is Us - Walker family

Kate hugs

Drake and Kate dinner date

Drake and Kate in black and white

Drake and Kate at Walker Ranch

Inside Drake Walker's phone - honeymoon edition

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jovialyouthmusic · 2 years

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Couldn't agree more. There may be tons of ways you can 'play' with characters, but as we're working with a very popular storyline and there are lots of folk out there taking a look and going 'what if...' we are bound to overlap here and there.

Sadly what tends to happenis that cliques develop - nothing wrong in a group of friends with similar ideas getting together and supporting each others' creativity. But then someone outside the group writes something similar, and they get jumped on for daring to 'copy'. I've seen that happen many times on Tumblr. I'm sorry to say I stood back for fear of being targetted myself.

A truly original idea is rare, but should you stop writing just because your story overlaps with someone else's? Of course not, do what makes you happy. And don't jump on others just because their ideas bear a passing resemblance to yours. Be kind, it costs nothing.

Bullying of any kind is wrong. I will be doing a much longer post sometime today or tomorrow, to address the harassment that happened to me on Wednesday. I haven't had time up till now because I'm busy.

But here's a little preview of the kind of crap that people like to spew while hiding behind an anonymous, throwaway account.

Yes, someone created an entire fake blog to send me this message and then deleted it before I could respond or ask what the hell they were talking about.

I was then directed to a hate post that was allegedly all about me. Because I am so freaking special that an entire group of people had to spend their time and energy to write shitty and slanderous things about me on Tumblr. Maybe because their own lives lack enough excitement, I don't know.

It's astounding to me that grown-ass women want to act this way.

I will also be posting links to other writers and stories that predate the person I am accused of stealing from, who have all written Eleanor alive, Jackson alive, Lena having grown up with Leo and Liam. Just to put an end to the idea that I have stolen the concept of Eleanor being alive from this person, who I have been told is the only person to ever think of it.

Since Wednesday, the creator of the original hate post apparently is leaving Tumblr, One of my readers isn't coming back to Tumblr right now because of it, I know multiple writers who are either afraid to post or talking about leaving altogether because they don't want to be bullied. People are afraid to post their stories and this is unacceptable.

It's ironic, people wonder why the fandom is dying. This is why.

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jovialyouthmusic · 2 years

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Fantastic, reading felt like reconnecting with old friends xx

Coitus Interruptus

This is my submission for @choicesflashfics; I used the following prompt: “I can’t believe you would even think to leave me like this.” It will appear in bold.

This story is also the answer to a nonny ask: Has Riley ever faked the big “O”?

Thank you to all who read over snippets of this fic.

Thank you to all who will read the story. Your likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated more than you know.

Please excuse any and all typos, missing/extraneous words, and/or grammatical errors. MS Editor rates me at 98% error free.

Pairing is (future) #Riam

All characters (except the children) belong to Pixelberry

Song Inspiration: Love to Love You, Baby, Donna Summer

Word Count: 2,400

Rating: Going with M/Mature because of lemon-scented Pledge

Keep reading

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jovialyouthmusic · 2 years

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Would you ever write a fix where Riley actually cheats on Liam?

Heeeyyy, @janezillow! My answer under the cut (and I am STILL extra and unable to answer yes or no). I hope you enjoy it!

The King lay alone in the bed he shared with his wife; he turned his head to glance at the clock. Luminous green numbers told him it was 2am. He exhaled a loud sigh as he crossed his arms behind his head. Riley had been making her way to their bedchambers later and later.

She never said why, but Liam didn’t need her to explain.

He knew.

He sat up and turned on the bedside lamp at the soft click the doorknob made as it was turned. The Queen walked into the dimly lit room, guilt washing across her features as she closed the door behind her.

“Why are you awake?” she demanded.

Liam was silent as he took in her appearance: disheveled hair, smeared lipstick, her blouse untucked from her skirt. She was in her stockinged feet; more than likely, her shoes were on the other side of the door.

Riley had left them there before.

“Riley, you are MY WIFE. You should be in bed with me!”

The Queen rolled her eyes. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“It’s the middle of the night!” Liam seethed.

He watched his wife as she removed her clothing. The silk blouse and skirt fell effortlessly from her body. The pantyhose whispered against her smooth legs. His face was impassive, but his thinned lips revealed his anger.

Riley was oblivious to it all. She climbed into bed and turned her back to her husband. “Unclasp my bra for me,” she requested.

She felt the breath from the silent exhale Liam released through his nostrils on her skin. She felt his strong fingers brush her back. She shivered as her flesh goosebumped. When the last hook was undone, she pulled the garment off and tossed it onto the floor.

“I will not stand for this Riley. I mean it,” Liam said as he turned the lamp off.

In the dark, his wife curled onto her side, her back still to him. “You knew what it was when you married me. I love him, Liam.”

Silence as Liam rolled over, his back to Riley. He was still awake long after his wife began softly snoring.

The Following Morning

Liam finished tying his shoes, prepared for a full day: conference calls scheduled all morning, a Royal Council meeting in the afternoon, and a dinner at Krona that evening. He hoped Riley was ready; when he awoke, he was alone in the bed.

Again.

He had smelled her soap and saw the wet tiles in the shower they shared, so he knew she was awake. As he walked the hall to their living area, he sniffed. Nothing. Usually there was coffee percolating, breakfast meats frying.

But not this morning.

Liam walked into the kitchen; it was clean and untouched. He looked around and saw his wife on the sofa, wearing a sleeveless gray cotton nightgown. She was watching television and muttering to herself.

“I’ll be your Little Grey, baby.”

“RILEY!” Liam yelled.

The Queen jumped. “Jesus, Liam!” Her eyes went back to the screen. “My lover is here. You need to leave.”

“THIS IS ENDS RIGHT NOW! Your obsession with Mark Sloan, a FICTIONAL CHARACTER, has gone on long enough!”

Riley’s eyes narrowed. “You TAKE THAT BACK about Mark! And STOP TALKING! You’re ruining the best part of my morning!”

Liam rocked on his heels, his arms folded across his chest. “Where’s breakfast? It’s bad enough you stay out here until all hours of the night falling asleep on the sofa. Now you’re not going to feed me?”

“I DO NOT FALL ASLEEP ON THE SOFA! And we can call down to the kitchens!”

With a smirk, Liam walked over to the sofa, picking up a throw pillow smeared with her lipstick. “You don’t fall asleep out here? How did your lipstick get on this pillow?”

Riley snatched the pillow. “There is NOTHIING on this pillow!” She set it back on the couch, the lipstick-stained side facing the cushions instead of the room.

Liam grabbed Riley by her elbow. “I am going to order breakfast for us while you go get dressed. We have conference calls, a Council meeting, and dinner with Duchess Adelaide today. You need to get ready.”

Riley pouted. “I don’t wanna adult today!”

“Sorry, love. You have to.”

Riley looked at Liam with a crafty gleam in her eye. “I’ll share him with you. IN THE BEDROOM, if we can call out sick.”

Liam rolled his eyes. “Sorry, Mark Sloan doesn’t do it for me.”

“I know Drake’s more your type, BUT … we can watch Addison episodes too!”

Liam shook his head. “Last time I watched Addison, you threatened to cut me and drag my body parts through the streets.”

“But, but … I could have both my husbands; you could have your wife and girlfriend. There could be baklava …” Riley coaxed.

“Or …. we can adult today, cancel the dinner, and have Mark and Addison in the bedroom tonight,” Liam countered.

The Queen considered her King’s offer. Better some Mark Sloan than none at all. She blew a raspberry as she turned off the television. “I want waffles for breakfast,” she grumbled as she headed for the bedroom.

Tagging: @sirbeepsalot @jared2612 @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @hopefulmoonobject @amomentofsinclairity @ao719 @burnsoslow @marietrinmimi @annekebbphotography @merridithsmiscellany-blog @queenjilian @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @indiacater @forthebrokenheartedthings @kingliam2019 @bebepac @zaffrenotes @liyanin @liamxs-world @choiceslife @ac27dj @the-soot-sprite @gnatbrain @sanchita012 @anotherbeingsworld @atha68 @hopelessromanticmonie @amandablink @cmestrella @iaminlovewithtrr @cinnamonspongecake @lifeaskim @starrystarrytrouble @liamandneca @liamrhysstalker2020 @alyssalauren @yourmajesty09 @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @bbrandy2002 @janezillow

#dcbbw writes #would you ever ask #why can’t I just ANSWER

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jovialyouthmusic · 2 years

Text

Alone

(Drake x Olivia) in a Choices The Royal Romance/Heir fan fic.

A/N No reason other than I needed a little Dralivia. And I think it isn't a secret from previous fics how I feel about Drake's mom (in case you don't know, I can't stand her, LOL). Thus, for some reason, listening to the song while working on a fic for another Choices OTP couple of mine, this angsty idea somehow came about.

Rating: G

Song Inspiration: Hold My Hand by Lady Gaga

Masterlist

@krsnlove @sirbeepsalot @lodberg @mynameiskaylabella @museofbooks @elbenmond @gibbles82 @twinkleallnight @thehonorarybeaumont @tessa-liam @moodmusicmonday @choicesficwriterscreations

**************

The sun shouldn't be shining so brightly. Birds shouldn't be chirping their sweet songs. The cool breeze shouldn't be gentle and soothing. This wasn't at all how the world should look today.

Rain should be falling steadily. Perhaps a faint roll of thunder should rumble off in the distance. The wind should be icy, chilling one to the bone. The sky should be a slate gray color giving no hope for sunlight filtering through.

Funerals were meant for that type of atmosphere.

Drake swallowed against the lump of emotion in his throat. He tugged at the knot in his carefully contructed tie, causing it to become lopsided. He ran a hand through his hair. He next slipped on a pair of sunglasses when he noticed some people watching him.

He didn't need this audience. Over half of these people wouldn't have come to his mother's funeral if Liam hadn't made him a Guardian of the Realm. Nobody would have cared that the Walker siblings had lost their only remaining parent if he had not helped save Liam and Riley as often as he had.

Well, perhaps a few would have come. He could always depend on Liam to be there for him. Somehow he had become close to Maxwell, Riley, and Hana along the way. They were just as loyal as one could wish. Even if Bertrand was not married to Savannah, Drake suspected he would still have come to pay his respects.

But none of the others would have cared enough about him to come. No one would have flown all the way out here in to an insignificant Texas town for him.

Well, maybe one other might have.

As the pastor continued his sermon, Drake took advantage of his sunglasses to secretly search for Olivia in the crowd. It didn't take long to find her. Her rich red hair with sunlight shining upon it shone easily against the black clothed individuals.

He was surprised to see her head bowed. Her lips were not hardened in their typical manner. Her hands were loosely clasped in front of her black clad body. A few stray strands of her hair gently got caught in the occasional breeze.

He tried to swallow once more when his sister's muffled sob broke through his study of the duchess. He glanced to his right to see Bertrand wrap his arms around her, whispering against her hair.

Drake only caught a part of what he said.

"I'm right here."

That softly said phrase cut Drake to the quick.

He'd never felt so alone before. He'd experienced lonliness throughout his life, but he never realized how alone he was without a significant other. Liam often told him how much he needed and depended on Riley. Drake had witnessed first hand the changes in Bertrand and Savannah once they married.

But Drake didn't have that.

And now, he must say goodbye to the one parent who had caused nothing but conflicted feelings deep within his heart.

Drake didn't know what to do. Should he be angry and harden his heart against this woman who had abandoned him and his little sister all those years ago? Or should he only focus on the last couple of years and her attempts to makeup for her mistakes?

How uncertain could a man be?

Memories flickered through his mind of his mom when he was little. The gruff manner she would pull him in for a quick hug. The feel of her ruffling his hair. The way she would tuck him into bed at night.

Then thoughts of near silence. Wasn't that what she gave him for years until Liam got married? Actually, would she have shown her face at all if Liam hadn't made certain to invite her to his wedding? Would she have shown up if she hadn't known Savannah had given birth to her first grandchild?

Did she even want to see me? Or was her return to Cordonia for other reasons?

He blinked when people began to step forward to lay a final flower upon the mahogany casket.

Rubbing a hand down his face, he picked up his lone flower. He grimaced somewhat at the number of lilies and roses. His own wildflower he had picked seemed so out of place amongst them. It looked like he didn't care.

And he knew he was the only one left alive to remember the reason for picking the Firewheel for this final time.

The vibrant yellow and red petals were a stark contrast to the delicate, expensive, white flowers.

Tears burned his eyes yet refused to fall.

Stepping back, he went through the motions of thanking those who had come along with his sister and brother-in-law. His aunt was gruff were her murmurs of gratitude.

During one of the so sorry for your loss from a well meaning noble, Drake noticed Olivia slip away without a word. His brow furrowed over the fact she wasn't going to even bother to say anything to him. He'd thought that they were finally beyond being hateful to one another.

I guess I was wrong.

****************

The next couple of days were spent as cohost to those who remained in Texas. Neighbors came by the old farmhouse with enough food to help feed the company of Cordonia's most respected.

Drake was thoroughly tired of it by the third day.

He sneaked out one evening at dusk. Sighing in relief once he was a hundred yards from the crowded house, he continued on toward one of the outer fields.

He leaned against one of the fence posts, watching the last rays of light disappear.

"It's beautiful out here."

He swung around in surprise.

Olivia stepped up beside him, eyes focused on the western horizon.

His eyes narrowed somewhat. He had seen her speaking to others, yet she had kept her distance from him ever since the funeral. It irritated him. She hadn't even bothered to say she was sorry for his loss, yet had somehow followed him out here when he wanted to be alone.

No, that wasn't right. He didn't want to be alone. Not really. But that was how he'd been during this whole process.

Olivia cut her eyes to study his profile. She'd never felt so out of her depths before. What she was about to do was something she'd never felt compelled to do for anyone else in her life. It was something she couldn't stop thinking about. It irritated her that she'd felt driven to do this for Drake, of all people. She couldn't rest and remain inactive any longer.

She could see how much he was hurting yet was hiding it better than most could. She knew that kind of pain. Understood it. Lived with it all these many years.

And she'd known she couldn't approach him until the time was right and there was a lack of an audience.

"Why are you here?" He asked in a bitter tone.

Olivia didn't flinch. Didn't even bat an eyelash over the harsh accusation one could so easily hear. She knew what was causing it.

"I didn't want you to be alone anymore." She stated simply.

He snorted. "Did it ever occur to you that I have been surrounded by people for days?" He glared at her. "Was it not obvious since I asked no one to come out here with me that I needed to be alone?"

She turned to face him. Her normally hard gaze was soft, emerald eyes steadily meeting his angry brown. They didn't bother to probe to see where his questions were coming from.

And that unnerved him.

Instead of snapping back with an angry retort to set him in his place, she tentatively placed her hand over his.

His fist clinched upon the worn wooden plank. It was as if he fought against accepting her silent comfort.

Her fingers brushed along his knuckles until they settled along his fingers, curving over them as if in protection.

Drake could feel that familar burn of tears. His throat convulsed around that ever growing lump that threatened to choke him.

"I know, Drake." Olivia said softly.

And he knew she did. She understood without him having to say that he didn't know if he was mourning his parent or for the memories he once cherished or for what might have been if she had not left him.

He looked out at the meadow, seeing that same wildflower he'd given his mother dotting the slightly rolling land. During family trips here when he was a little boy, he had picked as many Firewheels as his arms could hold as a surprise for his mom. Even now, he could see her delighted smile. He could almost feel the kiss upon his forehead for bringing her such a thoughtful gift.

Stray tears slipped down his cheeks as he gazed upon Olivia's hand holding his.

When had his fingers eased? When had his hand turned to grip hers as if he was about to fall down a canyon of despair?

Her grip on his tightened as she waited patiently for him to say or indicate what he needed next.

His voice cracked.

"Liv. I--"

He wasn't certain who moved first. He only knew he had her crushed to his chest. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his waist as he shook. He buried his face against her neck, taking shuddering breaths.

Olivia closed her eyes tight. She could feel her own tears threatening to spill out. She knew deep down why she was here, allowing herself to experience the pain of losing a parent again. She knew why she was willing to allow her own memories to torture her once more.

She couldn't stand to see Drake have to face it alone. She knew he had Liam, the others, his sister, even an aunt.

But no one knew how to grieve for a parent who betrays you like she did.

As sweet as Liam, Riley, Hana, and Maxwell were, they couldn't begin to fathom the love/hate feelings that threaten to consume one when forced into this situation. To be denied the chance to say what it is you need, what you want, what you deserve from the parent; that is the true sorrow.

Time can't be reversed. Feelings cannot be healed by the person responsible for doing this to you. It is a frustratingly unfair situation.

Olivia was old friends with all of that. She knew soon Drake would be too. Yet, knowing him and seeing the type of man he had grown into, she knew he would only come out stronger and better in the end from all this.

Once he became a father, he would make certain his child never suffered a similar fate.

Just as she swore to her yet to be formed children.

Drake continued to hold on to Olivia, greedily taking every scrap of comfort she gave him. Of all the people in the world, he'd never have dreamed she'd be the one person to give him exactly what he needed in this moment.

And yet here she was, selflessly giving herself to him to use as his crutch, holding him up during this time of heartache.

Her soft whispered words reminding him she was there for him, that she understood touched his aching heart. It reminded him of Bertrand's actions with Savannah.

For the first time in his life, he felt understood. He felt cared for. He felt the stirrings of stronger emotions for the woman in his arms.

Drake knew from this moment on that he would no longer be alone.

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