As glowing fragments of the shattered barrier fell all around Luna and Amethyst, and the sound of the terrified screams of the city's inhabitants filled the air, the dark cloud, which had been held back for a while by the valliant barrier, began to roll over the fields, through the streets of the Empire, before the Crystal Princess rose to her hooves once again, and recast the warding spell.

Since all the Empire's inhabitants had gathered near the Palace, the spell she cast covered an area smaller than before, but it allowed her to protect everypony, using but a fraction of her energy, and the dark cloud abruptly halted before it reached the centre of town; then, as the dark cloud turned opaque, showing the sky, which had turned a vile red, in the distance, the King appeared.

Every present pony, including Amethyst, save for the Crystal Princess and Luna, who stood defiantly to oppose their foe, turned away and hid their faces, as the King of Shadows slowly walked to the Centre of town; while he walked, bearing a cloak of shadow, all around him, great and dark crystals broke through the ground, obliterating the roads and annihilating many buildings he walked past.

While he walked through the streets, approaching the crowd that had gathered underneath the Palace, Luna looked around, and noticed that the Library, located on the other side of town, remained safe, which was something she had wondered about for a great length of time; but she was interrupted by the voices of both Amethysts, pleading to the Princesses, to anyone that was listening, for help.

She turned back to Amethyst, with whom she had entered the dream, and gently embraced her with her wings to comfort her, and restated her promise that she would not suffer from this memory for much longer, but for now, though it was nigh impossible for her to relive, she had to stay strong, she had to remember, and she had to truly feel what she went through, for only then, Luna could help.

Though Amethyst was wary of her promise, she wiped away her tears and nodded, after which both she and Luna turned to face the Lord of Shadows, who now, ever approaching closer, appeared even more terrible than before, striking great fear into the hearts of all that dared to look upon him; then, he focused his gaze on the Ponies closest to the barrier, who had nowhere else to run, nor look.

For a brief moment, not a sound was made, before a deafening rumble broke the silence, and when a great row of crystals shot past the King, striking the barrier with a mighty blow, an ear-splitting sound echoed throughout the city, yet the barrier held strong, and failed not, until another row of dark crystals, faster and grander than before, struck once again and shattered part of the barrier.

Before the Crystal Princess had time to repair the barrier, the dark cloud, now strengthened by the Shadows of the King, rolled over part of the crowd, dragged them outside of the barrier, and placed them in front of the King, with their hooves bound; a vile smirk grew unto his face, as from the shadows, a piece of armour, a dark helmet formed, which he put on the head of one of the prisoners.

Immediately, their hooves were unbound, and they rose, standing perfectly still, while the eyes of the helmet they wore glowed a vile colour, yet the wearer ran not, instead turning to face the rest of the crowd behind the barrier, which had only just been reformed; soon after, many of the other captured Crystal Ponies were forced to wear identical helmets, and they, too, opposed the crowd.

With every subsequent attack, many of which were aided by the helmeted Crystal Ponies, the barrier broke, more Ponies were taken, and though it was quickly repaired, the Crystal Princess had to use a great amount of energy trying to keep the rest of the townsfolk safe, though some, whose family and friends were taken, cared not anymore, and moved closer to the barrier every time it broke.

Many cycles later, when the crowd had shrunk and the King's army had grown, he bellowed out:

"Join me and thrive, surrender and live, or oppose me and perish. The choice is yours."

(Thanks for reading! And if you enjoyed, please reblog! Thanks in advance!)

Send an ask or request! | Start at the beginning! | Next part!

  thinking about chrysalis in g5 ending up turning into like, an urban legend/fairy tale abt an evil queen that sneaks into ur homes to steal ur love

My Opinions on Fire Force That Literally Nobody Asked For

I’m in the middle of watching Fire Force Season 2, and I'll probably write a whole essay rant about the symbolism, religious elements and motifs, and the representations of real life problems in this anime before keeping it in my drafts, never to be posted, because I always overthink my ability for rational thought and deductional thinking. Until then, here are some of my opinions, thoughts, and predictions about the show in no particular order. 

Warnings: Spoilers for Fire Force Season One and some spoilers for Season Two. I have NOT read the manga, so keep that in mind.

I checked Benimaru’s wiki page, and he’s 22 years old. 👁👄👁 (I thought he was in the 25-30 range, he always looks so Done™, lol.)

Despite looking like he wants to go sleep for 14 hours and never wake up again, Benimaru be looking ✨hella fine✨, if you catch my drift.

I really like Benimaru’s and Joker’s voices. They have very deep and rich voices (I almost fell asleep when listening to Joker monologue, it was so relaxing). So I checked my faithful wiki page, and it turns out Shinmon Benimaru is voiced by Mamoru Miyano!1!1! (ⁿᵒ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ᴵ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵏ ʰᵉˢ ʰᵒᵗ) AND, AND, AND!!! Joker is voiced by Kenjiro Tsuda!!! I recognize his voice now!!! I really loved his voice as Lero Ro from “Tower of God”, and Narihisago Sakaido from “ID: Invaded”.

I find myself relating to Hinata and Hikage on a personal level 50% of the time, since sometimes, I like to sit back and watch the chaos unfurl. The other 50% I relate to Hinawa, because I too am a tired Mom who wishes my friends could make good life decisions, while dragging said friends out of bad life decisions.

What, in the frickity frackity F*CK are with the Evangelists boot... things. Like, I.. I have no words, simply disappointment. They’re... not even proper footwear?! I couldn’t find a GIF showing an Ashen Knight’s feet, but it’s like if somebody (aka the author) were to surgically remove a “My Little Pony™” leg and wear it as.. armour?!?! How are you supposed to fit your foot in a shoe (if it can even be called a SHOE) the size of a TEACUP, while the area protecting your knees are designed to have plenty of room???? Are all these finger quote “Ashen Knights” finger unquote so BLIND after living in the sewers (oh excuse me, the “Nether”, because we need to make the Subways’ more scary and edgy to strike fear into the hearts of our enemies) for so long, they cannot put their shoes on correctly?!?!?!?! I’VE NEVER BEEN THIS PISSED OFF (except for whenever Tamaki’s “Lucky Lecher” activiates. I have a whole other rant about THAT).

I REALLY, REALLY hate Inca. I can understand why she’s like how she is, but I still can’t help but be angered by her logic, philosophy and decisions. I also wish Shinra would understand that not everybody WANTS to be saved, even though people SHOULD be saved. For example, when Inca decided to follow through on what SEEMED to be her only option of setting Panda (the guy from her gang she lead) on fire, because it was “decided by destiny”? Utter bull. Inca can, in fact, see where fires will appear in the future, by smelling where they will appear in the form of threads (which reminds me a lot of Tanjiro from “Demon Slayer”, and how he can smell the “Line of the Interval”). 

However, it is obvious to viewers that the explosions she creates (note the word “create”. A conscious action!) by tracing the threads are a result of her physical actions of tracing a line. She was not mind controlled, rather chose to trace the lines under the flimsy assumption of “it’s destiny so I HAVE to!” Inca should have more deeply considered the fact that maybe it’s not “DESTINY” but her own obvious FREE WILL in that she can CHOOSE to create these explosions. I dislike how she shuns normalcy and safety when so few of the people in the “Fire Force” universe have the PRIVILEGE of experiencing it. I can understand why Inca dislikes safety, so it’s not one of my more hated traits of her character, since it is understandable since her abilities allow her to always avoid danger. This causes Inca to narcissistically believes her life is MORE valuable than others, treating other peoples’ own lives so callously, and is one of the characteristics I hate about Inca. Every individual life is precious in it’s ability to change their morals and way of living, in that they can accomplish so many things in life despite the brevity of it, and that even the worst people have (a few) redeemable traits. Inca did go through a traumatic event, which lead to her realizing the preciousness of her own life, but failing to recognize that others’ lives have that same preciousness when presented the chance, (i.e. the boys from her gang, the people she robs, and the people who were also in the Great Fire who died), which is what I hate the most about Inca. I don’t wish for her to die, but I would love for her to be PROPERLY face the consequences of her crimes, hopefully living a life of normalcy and safety for the rest of her life.

Thank you for reading some of my opinions about “Fire Force” Season One and Two. I have a lot more opinions that I wish to share, including Shinra’s hero complex and the cause behind it, an in depth analysis of Sho’s character, my thoughts on the Christianity, evangelism, and religious elements, proto-Nationalism and it’s symbolism of Japanese history with Christian missionaries, opinions on the female characters of “Fire Force”, my opinion on the redeemibality of villains, Tamaki’s “Lucky Lecher”, and theories on the future events of “Fire Force”. Have a nice day!

Chapter Six: 1824 October 11th Hush boy

Jacks P.O.V.

T.W. Blood

        ‘It’s alright πυγολαμπίδα, you never have to deal with this place again. So just… relax my love.’ At those words I can feel my self relax, the relief that over comes me causes me to cry a little at the thought of never returning to that hellhole again. I feel my conscious drift away from the chaotic scene and I can feel petals wrap around me as I slide through them green lightning curving from my body(?) every now and again until I hear a someone humming to themselves as I hear the sound of someone carving wood. As I turn towards them I can see I’m in a dark room lit only by the candle on the desk with a boy(?) probably only around seventeen or so with… teal… hair? And I think I can see his eyes glowing gold from here.

        I take a step towards him examining trying to see if I can recognize him despite the familiarity radiating from him. He suddenly sits up straight causing me to jump back a bit and as I examine the back of his neck and I can feel a bit of hope fill my heart. There is two soul-marks on the back of his neck that hooked in each-other one of a stray green bolt of lightning and one of a wisp of the universe. Just like…

        “JJ?” I whisper out, shock over taking me as I take a step forward, but as I do every single doll and figurine turned their heads towards me, their eyes glowing an eerie yellow, giving a similar feeling to the forest. I instinctively reach to him to get him away from the dolls not even bothering to notice there really wasn’t a way out. As he turns to me I can see he has a rather annoyed expression that quickly fades into shock as his glowing gold eyes land on me, and just as I go to step towards him, the floor beneath me falls away.

        I can feel the petals again pulling me through the colorful void as I try to fight against them, trying to get back to JJ but I quickly stop, the smell of the petals relaxing me. I allow my self to drift until I hear a familiar voice calling for me.

        “Come here Sunon.” It’s Henrik’s voice, I know it is, I don’t know how but I do, he’s older maybe twenty, and he has a German accent but I can hear the little bit of Irish lingering in the back of his voice. It sounds happy but more of a sad… happy, if that makes sense.

        “Sunon, come here.” The voice calls again and it’s almost pleading and I jolt in shock, bolts of lightning curving from my body, as I recognize the voice.

        “Henrik?” The voice that comes from me sound like my seven year old self, confusion washes over me before at the sound of my voice until I can see what’s happening again.

        ‘Oh,’ I think as I look around, somehow without moving my body. ‘this is the day before Henrik got adopted.’ I remember it well enough to know that I didn’t leave his side the entire day. I feel my body move on it own accord at the sound of Henrik’s voice again.

        “I’m over here Sunon.” I look around and see him sitting on top of a large rock still wet from swimming the lake. It was one of those rare warm sunny days during the summer where Henrik would take me to a lake deep in the forest. Everything looked the same from that except, he looked different. His instead of their normal sky blue, they’re a soft, green with the same color veins going from the iris to the whites of his eyes to the area surrounding his eyes. And though his hair was the same length, long enough for a small pony tail, his usual light brown hair, was a soft green on the top and brown and a twinge of silver in it.

        Other than that though he was the same, with the same pale skin, Marvin's mark on his forehead just like me, the rest of my brothers and the other one was Liru’s… mark. ‘Oh my god. She’s all of our soulmate! How did I not realize that!’ She doesn’t even know either, I never bothered to mention it because I forgot ‘How the hell did I forget that?!’

        “Sunon?” Henrik’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts and I can feel my six year old body move and speak on it’s own accord.

        “Coming Hen” I got up and I could feel the left over water on my skin drying from the sun as I went over to him forgetting my shirt completely as I climbed up to the rock, sitting in front of him and for a split second I think it’s gonna fall out beneath me as well. I look up at him and I can feel a forced smile on my face as I look up at him. His eyes are sad as he looks at me but he has a soft smile as he looks at me. I watch as he reaches up around his neck and undoing the leather cord with a silver band that had a sigil Marvin carved into it.

        I watched as he had picked up the one of my hands the one with his mark on my upper arm and puts the ring and cord in my hand and covering it. My eyes water as he does and I try to hold my tears back but fall miserable. I launch at him, hugging him tightly not even bother with the fact I nearly knocked us both off the rock, burying my faces into his chest and crying my eyes out. He wraps an arm around me my torso and puts a hand on the back of my head as he buries his nose in my hair lightly and I can hear him mutter those words that were once comforting and now just painful to hear.

        “It’s okay Sunon. Everything will be okay, I’ll come back for you, ten years top. I promise.” As he said those words the world around me faded before leaving surrounded in the void of petal.

        Except they weren’t petals anymore, they were slimy, black than black, smelled like death, sulfur and burning flesh, it made me want to puke. They weren’t guiding me anymore they were yanking me down and this time I fought.

        I struggled and scratched and pulled, lightning breaking from my body and striking at the faux petals, burning them making the smells stronger to the point where I want to throw up. After a full minute of fighting against the pull the petals yank me down through them and I fall about a couple of stories landing on my back letting out a loud wheeze of pain as I feel the air whoosh out of my body as I struggle to regain it as I force myself up wincing in pain.

        As I stand up I freeze, every hair on my body stands up on end and I can feel my heart fall to my stomach then my stomach fall through the floor. In front of me was this large disgusting creature, it had a round body with useless legs dragging behind it as it uses it’s to small for it’s body wings, to hover in one spot and it was the color of if someone threw up and mixed ink into it. Thats not the worst part though was the to many long, spindly needle sharp arms holding up an almost identical copy of me, the only differences was the one black eye with a neon green iris and the other a Blue Lapis color and a slit throat.

        “Anti…?” My voice is quiet and breaking a I speak, the disbelief quickly become of over come with rage and sadness. Now I really wanna throw up and wake up. The creature’s spindly needle sharp arms wear pierced through his lower arms, hands, every one of his fingers, his feet and what seemed to be his head. And the way it was keeping him up, made Anti look like a puppet. The thing grins it’s beady white eyes almost closing from the wide grin showing off brown jagged over grown human teeth, with a sick sense of joy as it seems to speak and I could barely make out what it was saying.

        “D̎ͪ̽͢ir̙͇̫u͍̥ͤ̐͜ ͯͦ̿s͑͌͂͢a͉͆l̥̥͙utő̵̬n̖ͭ ̕a͉̙ľ̻͝ v̤̀i̵a ̞ͬfŗ͉̖͌̓a̡t̩ͩo,̶̅ P̶ṳ̃p̬͕̈͐p̓e̛͗̃͑t̲̆.͔̹̈̽” I watch in horror as Anti seems to jerk before whispering out in a dead voice,

“J̢acḱ?” I let out a chocked sob as the rage falls away leaving nothing but sadness behind. I watch as his eyes flash for a second full of confusion then fear, then straight up terror and panic and with each emotion I see, the slit in his neck begins to bleed heavier than before.

        “JA̧ĆK!́” His voice is desperate pleading and I can see more of the demons spindly arms begin to reach towards me and I can feel all of the rage suddenly slam into at once as green lightning explodes everywhere as I let out a scream of rage and the demon recoils as the lightning bursting from my body strikes it’s arms causing it to let out a shriek of pain.

        “ŖUN̷ JA̡CK ́P͢L̸EASE!͞” Anti’s voice breaks through the noise and I can see the demon quickly regrow the burned limbs as it lets out a roar that makes my head pound painfully.

        “P҉LEASE̸-” Anti’s desperate cry is cut off my the sound of him gurgling and blood pour out his mouth his neck practically a fountain of blood now. I can feel tears streaming down my face as I begin to move forward towards Anti, but as I do the creature lunges forward and before I can move, I wake up staring into Liru’s night blue, worried eyes.

_______________________________________________________________

Sunon = Sun

Say hello to your brother = Diru saluton al via frato

_______________________________________________________________

Thank you @antis-gauge for helping give me motivation to write

Don’t forget to reblog

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@antis-gauge

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@nerdylampeclipseuniversity

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The Night Ride

This is the first Warrior and The King piece that I wrote, their first meeting on the road to Rivendell. I remember writing it almost in one sitting, I could see the whole thing so clearly in my head. It later became Chapter 2 of The Warrior and The King.

Find the rest of the story here

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

During the night the rain stopped and a warm sun dried the party as they ate a hurried breakfast and packed up their camp. The warg howls they had heard the previous night were on all their minds, but the day passed without incident. At midday Gandalf turned off the road onto a wide path that followed beside a swift running stream and the way started to climb into the foothills of the mountains. As the sun began to dip into the west the path opened up into a kind of grassy meadow, ringed round one side with fir trees and the other with tall, sharp rocks. To Gandalf’s eye it looked an ideal campsite, and it had seen use by other travelers as the presence of an old fire ring attested. The mountains marched upwards behind them and they could see the path they had travelled for some distance, nothing could come that way without being seen. Thorin called a halt for the night and the Dwarves busied themselves setting up camp.

Fili was setting the picket line for the ponies with his brother when he looked up and saw a rider on the path coming towards them. A large, black horse followed by a big, rangy dog, he could see the rays of the setting sun glint off the rider’s golden hair. “There’s a horse coming this way!” He cried to the others. “An Elf, maybe.”

“Not an Elf, I think.” Gandalf said thoughtfully as he came up between Kili and his brother. “But certainly welcome company!” He stepped forward as the rider drew her horse up, smiling under his bushy beard. “Kaylea Wolf, you are a sight for sore eyes!”

They could all see now the rider was a woman. She smiled at the wizard as she surveyed him and his companions. “I have found you in odd company before, Gandalf the Grey. But none quite so strange as this.”

The woman who rode into their camp was a striking figure indeed. Thorin thought her the fairest woman he had ever seen. Though not an Elf she had the grace of that people, but there was a hardness to her the Fair Folk lacked. As if the beauty of Luthien Tinuviel herself had been poured over a core of thrice-forged steel. She had the appearance of a fell fighter and was armed with many weapons – sword, bow and knives, all bearing the signs of much use and expert care. Her close-fitting black garments of leather and heavy cloth would not have looked out of place worn by a man but were obviously made for her, tailored in a style he had not seen before. Her hair, shining like polished gold in the evening light was gathered in a tight braid down her back. She rode a tall, clean-limbed horse black as midnight. What Fili had taken to be a dog was actually a large black wolf not much smaller than a warg, wearing a wide collar. The wolf had stopped at the edge of the clearing, waiting and watching the company with evident interest. Both rider and horse bore the signs of long travel. Kaylea looked over the company, her glance returning several times to Thorin. He and the other Dwarves were staring at her curiously, her appearance was so unusual they were all taken aback. Thorin was the first of them to move next to her horse beside the wizard. He felt his heart leap when his eyes met those of this warrior woman, like he was connected to her somehow, although he had never met her. Thorin felt it must be just because he thought her so beautiful but it felt deeper, her eyes seemed to look right into his heart.  

“This is the company of Thorin Oakenshield”, Gandalf was saying. He indicated Thorin, who inclined his head as Kaylea’s grey-blue eyes returned to meet his.”Kaylea Wolf is a great warrior from a far country across the sea. She has ridden to Middle Earth’s aid before and is well known to the Rangers of the North. You would do us a great honor if you will travel with us, my lady.”

“Perhaps I shall,” Kaylea answered. “I have hurried to catch you to say there is an orc pack on your trail, from the look of it they have been following you for several days.”

“We heard warg howls last night,” Thorin replied gravely. “How many and how far back are they?”

“A little less than a league, my lord. There are more than two score, unless I miss my guess. They have been keeping their distance, for some reason of their own. I expect they will wait until full dark before they come closer.”

Gandalf looked back down the path, then at the ring of stones behind the camp. “We are four days from Rivendell and any help, we must make a stand here. But this is a good place to mount a defense.”   

Kaylea nodded, also appraising the campsite. “It would be hard to pick a better sight. But I was thinking I might thin out the pack a bit for you. I can easily get behind the pack and pick off a few.” She looked down at the wizard with a crooked smile.

“If you are hunting orcs, I’m coming with you,” said Thorin, he turned back to reach for his pony’s bridle. The other Dwarves also moved to toward their ponies, not wanting to be left behind if there was going to be a fight.  

“Another sword would be welcome, my lord. But to catch warg-mounted orcs we must ride at great speed, ponies will not be able to keep up.”

Thorin quickly turned around, astonished. Kaylea had addressed him in perfect Khuzdul. He saw her holding a hand out to him, a foot loosed from the stirrup. Thorin did not hesitate, he took her hand, stepping up on her booted foot. She easily pulled him up behind her and reined her horse around.

“Hang on tight, my lord. We have a hard ride ahead of us,” she clicked her tongue and the big horse shot forward into the evening light, the wolf followed running into the trees. In seconds they had disappeared down the way they had come.

Gandalf chuckled, leaning on his staff. “Now I have now officially seen everything! Thorin Oakenshield on the back of a horse, who would have thought!”   

“I’ll wager any one of us would give his right arm to be sitting where Thorin is right now,” said Dwalin, shaking his head. “I certainly wish I had spoken first!” The other Dwarves all muttered in agreement.

“I do not think being the first one to speak had anything to do with it”, said Gandalf with a twinkle in his eye. “Now, we have several hours before this orc pack gets here, if those two leave any alive. I think we could all do with a little cold supper and then we can prepare our defense.”

For Thorin’s part he was wondering if he was going to live through the ride to do any fighting. Kaylea’s horse set a tremendous pace and seemed to be part mountain goat. They soon turned off the path, the big horse jumping boulders and scaling steep climbs as easily as if they were flat ground. Dwarves are not enthusiastic riders and the ground seemed very far away. But even though the terrain was difficult the horse’s gait was very smooth, his footfalls eerily quiet. They passed through the forest almost like a shadow. Thorin held on to Kaylea tightly and despite his fear of falling found himself becoming very conscious of her body under her clothes, the smell of her hair. Closing his eyes he could smell sage and pine and something like cinnamon, on her clothes the smell of the desert, sun on hot sand.

“How is it that you speak my language?” He asked, opening his eyes again. He kept his voice low, hoping some conversation would distract his mind.

“I speak all the languages of Middle Earth, my lord” Kaylea replied, ducking to avoid a low-hanging branch. The trees had grown thicker as they travelled up the slopes, her horse was alternately trotting and cantering. “As the wizard said, I have travelled here often. But how does Thorin son of Thrain come to be on the road with such an odd assortment of companions?”

Thorin scowled. “You have me at a disadvantage, my lady! You seem to know me but I know nothing of you!” Kaylea chuckled at his anger, but she did tell him a bit about herself as they rode into the night.

She came from a country far across the sea called Dorsai, she said. The lord she served had once lived in Middle Earth and still had a great fondness for the land. He kept a watchful eye on it and upon receiving word that evil was once again abroad, he had sent Kaylea to investigate. She explained that since she knew Middle Earth and its people well, she often got these sorts of assignments.   

Kaylea stopped speaking and began to look closely at the ground. Thorin was about to ask about the nature of this evil, but she held up a hand. They were on a well-worn game trail now that wound its way between the trees, as they approached a stream crossing she reined in her horse. Although the light was nearly gone Thorin could see a large number of warg tracks on the muddy banks. “The pack is close before us now,” Kaylea said quietly. ”We must go forward on foot.”

Kaylea reached back and Thorin took her arm. She swung him down, he stepped again on her boot and then somewhat awkwardly to the ground. He shook his head, feeling if he could practice that a few more times he would be able to do it smoothly and not feel so foolish. Now that they stood side by side Thorin could see how tall she really was, his head reached just above her shoulder. Thorin did not find it intimidating, if anything it just made him more curious. The black wolf appeared out of the underbrush and looked meaningfully at Kaylea. Thorin had the impression some kind of silent conversation was going on.  

After a moment the wolf turned away and disappeared into the woods again. Kaylea pulled her hood over her golden hair and followed him. “Quiet, my lord,” she whispered. “Step where I step.” Thorin fell in behind her, moving as quietly as he could. Dwarves see very well in the dark, but they are not masters of moving silently like Elves and Hobbits. Kaylea moved more quietly than either, in her black clothing invisible in the growing dark. When Thorin stepped on a branch with a snap she held her finger to her lips and then started to point behind her where he should place his feet, carefully holding branches up so he could pass beneath. Watching her closely and with some practice Thorin started to get the hang of it, placing his feet carefully. They soon heard much growling and harsh voices ahead; it appeared as if the orcs had paused in their hunt.

They moved forward carefully and came to a place where they could see a clearing in the woods, illuminated by a pale moon. The orc pack had killed an elk and the wargs were engaged in a fight for the remains. The orcs were standing around the edges of the clearing, cheering on the wargs amid much laughter. There were several orcs sitting close by on rocks with their backs to Thorin and Kaylea. Kaylea pointed to the orc closest to her and then to herself, she drew a long knife from her boot. She pointed at Thorin and then to the next orc, Thorin took her meaning and nodded, then drew his own blade. Together they each grabbed an orc, both fell silently with a blade to the neck. Several more orcs were slain in this fashion, then one made a slight sound and one of the wargs looked in their direction. With a growl the animal leaped forward, only to have Kaylea’s big wolf intercept him, closing his jaws on the warg’s throat. The two rolled into the middle of the clearing, the wolf rose over his slain enemy to engage the next warg that launched itself at him. Kaylea drew her sword and vaulted over the boulders into the fray, Thorin right behind her. In the ensuing fight Thorin had a few moments to observe Kaylea’s skill. She moved impossibly fast and never seemed to waste a single movement; every sword stroke hit its mark, every move settling up the next. Although he had not felt any mail when they were riding together the swords and arrows of the orcs could not penetrate her garments. Thorin had a close call when the warg mount of an orc he had just slain managed to deflect his sword and knock him backwards to the ground. The warg lunged forward to grab him but Kaylea was suddenly there. In one smooth movement she wrapped an arm up around the warg’s head and, with a savage twist, spun the animal away from her. Thorin saw the creature’s feet come off the ground, heard its neck crack, the beast fell to the ground and lay still. Seemingly always in motion, Kaylea pivoted towards him and, almost in the same instant a knife left her hand, piercing the neck of the orc behind him.

“Mind your surroundings, my lord!” She offered him a hand up then stepped to free her sword from the body of a fallen warg. Together they turned to face the next attackers and moments later it was over, the Dwarf king, the tall warrior woman and her black wolf stood in the hollow surrounded by their dead opponents,

“Looks like a good part of the raiding party,” Kaylea said, looking around. She flicked the blood off her sword and sheathed it, moved among the dead retrieving her knives and arrows. Thorin found his attention drawn to the wolf, he had thought during the fight it somehow looked different, now he could see it was wearing a thin kind of armor that covered its body and the top of its head. As he watched, the armor retracted itself swiftly into the collar the animal was wearing. Thorin blinked, not at all sure what he was seeing. Some kind of enchanted armor? Meanwhile the wolf looked pointedly at Kaylea for a moment then loped into the woods. Kaylea gave a low whistle, a moment later her horse trotted out of the trees. “Let us see if we can find the rest of them.”

Kaylea swung up on her horse, pulling Thorin up behind. They took off after the wolf at a swift canter. They had not gone far when Thorin saw movement off to one side, he tapped Kaylea’s shoulder and pointed. Just at that moment Kaylea’s wolf shot out of the underbrush, right under the nose of her horse, two warg-mounted orcs followed at speed. Thorin loosed his bow and turned, kneeling on the back of the saddle. Kaylea notched an arrow in her bow as well, shooting left handed to not interfere with Thorin’s shot. Both orcs and wargs fell dead. Thorin drew a breath and suddenly realized he had braced his body against Kaylea’s back and was still leaning against her.

“Pardon me,” he muttered, a bit flustered. It would have been fine if he was leaning on Dwalin, or some other member of his company he had been fighting with for years but it seemed overly familiar when it was a beautiful woman he had just met.

Kaylea however seemed unconcerned. “No offence taken, my lord” she said with a smile. “Not if you are going to shoot that well.” She let him down and jumped down herself to retrieve her arrows.

And so it continued through the night. At times the wolf would draw the wargs and their riders close, some they surprised and engaged with swords on the ground. They were on and off her big horse so many times Kaylea could pull Thorin up behind her without breaking stride. For Thorin it was a very different way of hunting orcs, in the past he had always engaged them directly with a large force, to pick them off a few at a time by stealth was new to him. As the night wore on he also found himself thinking he and Kaylea fought as if they had been companions for years instead of hours. Each seemed to know instinctively where the other was going to turn and which attacker to engage. While he very much enjoyed fighting with her, Thorin did wonder where this familiarity came from. They had just dispatched two wargs and their riders, Thorin was pulling his sword out of a wargs neck when he felt Kaylea”s hand on his arm.

“You are wounded,” she said, indicating a long gash above his elbow that was dripping blood. Thorin shook his head.

“It is nothing,” he said, and in fact he had hardly noticed the wound. But Kaylea would have none of it, her grip was like iron.

“Orc blades are often poisoned,” she said, not letting go of his arm. “Please let me take a look at it, my lord.”

While Thorin removed his bracer and rolled up his sleeve she retrieved a soft case from one of her saddlebags and opened it, removing a slim black cylinder. She pressed the side of the instrument, a tiny bright light shone out which she used to inspect Thorin’s arm. She had knelt on a rock to get closer to his wound, her head below Thorin’s for once. The cut was deep, but the edges were clean, no sign of blackening from a poisoned blade. The touch of her hands on his bare arm stirred Thorin’s blood, already up from the fighting. Looking at her in the moonlight he thought again he had never seen a woman more beautiful. His eyes wandered to the laces of her tunic, loosened by the fighting, revealing the curve of her breast. He wanted to draw her to him and kiss her but instead forced himself to look away, reminding himself he had just watched her kill a warg with her bare hands. Thorin was used to getting what he wanted, but felt this was not a conquest that would be easily won. Kaylea meanwhile took a vial from her case and spread some kind of ointment on his wound, she then quickly bound it with soft cloth. “You are lucky, my lord. The cut is clean and will soon heal,” her eyes came up to meet his and she smiled warmly. “I will not have the famous Thorin Oakenshield dying on my watch.”  

Thorin nodded and smiled back at her. “Thank you, my lady,” there was more he wished to say but held his tongue. Kaylea whistled for her horse and they continued the hunt.

It was past midnight and when they came upon a spot where the orc pack had split in two, a number headed down the mountain and back, the rest continuing ahead. Kaylea set Thorin down and dismounted to inspect the tracks carefully. Thorin looked them over but he was not much of a tracker so he could make little of them. He looked around at the slope they were standing on, the trees were much thinner here and the hills were covered with broken rocks amid the new grass. The slope looked flat but concealed many rises and sudden ravines.

“Some have broken off, no doubt to double back and attack your company,” she told Thorin. “Do we pursue them, or those that continue along this trail?”

“Let us follow the trail, my lady,” he replied with a smile. “Those that have headed back will get a fine welcome from my companions.”

In the first light before dawn Kaylea’s horse came out of the trees into a wide meadow that spanned a whole hillside. They could see a half dozen wargs, some with riders at the far side of the meadow running for their lives, they went over the next crest and disappeared. When her horse reached the spot Kaylea could see the the hill fell away sharply to a river below. From this overlook the heads of several swimming wargs and their riders could be seen in the water far below, some very close to a bend in the river that would take them from view. Kaylea uttered a word that was surely a curse in her native language, swiftly she set Thorin down and swung off her horse. She reached into the long scabbard that lay under her saddle and drew forth a strange weapon the like of which Thorin had never seen. It had a stock at one end that Kaylea fitted to her shoulder, some kind of trigger and a sort of sighting device mounted on top. Made of some dark metal Thorin did not recognize, flat-sided and deadly looking. Kaylea looked down the weapon at their now distant quarry in the river. Thorin heard a soft sighing sound and another, he looked at the swimming orcs and saw them disappear into the water, one after another. When he looked back at Kaylea she was holding the weapon straight up braced against her hip, shaking her head.

“I think some of them may have gone around that bend,” she said. “I do not think I got them all.” She turned and slid the weapon back into its scabbard. “I will be ill luck if any get back to their masters to set another hunt on us.”

“What is that?” Thorin asked, pointing at the scabbard. “What manner of weapon could hit an enemy at that distance?”

Kaylea favored him with a wide smile. “You did not see that, my lord” she said, and would say nothing further on the matter leaving Thorin to ponder the mystery. “The night is almost gone, and I believe that is the Bruinen. We have a bit of riding to do to get back to your company.”

Thorin peppered Kaylea with questions as they retraced their steps back to where the company was camped. He was feeling quite comfortable on her big horse now and was enjoying being so close to her and having a proper conversation in his native tongue. He kept his hands on her hips though he sometimes had to shift his grip to hold tight when her horse jumped a stream or downed tree. When he leaned against her he found the smell of her intoxicating, he kept looking at her exposed neck from her ear down to her collar. He fought the impulse to kiss her there and, if she had been a Dwarven woman he would have done it, but found he could not read this strange woman at all. He pondered the strong connection he felt with her, but could not be sure she felt it as well or would allow him to act on it.  

Kaylea told him a bit about her country. It seemed they were a nation of warriors, and as Dwarves earned their living through their craft, her folk earned it fighting in the wars of others. She had trained her whole life in the arts of war and was a commander for her lord in her own land. For his part, Thorin told Kaylea about his quest to reclaim his homeland.

“So, you are off to slay a dragon,” Kaylea shook her head. “That is a very great task indeed! But why are these orcs pursuing you, my lord? They were a large party, some bore the mark of Gundabad. This was not a random few who came on your trail by chance.”

Thorin shook his head. “I do not know, my lady. In the past I have fought many of their kind, but I have not done anything lately to attract their attention.”    

As they were speaking they came in sight of Thorin’s company. It appeared some of the raiders had found their quarry after all, dead orcs and wargs lay on either side of the path. Dwalin, Oin and Gloin were busy dragging the bodies into a pile to burn them. Some of the ponies had bolted during the attack and Fili and Kili were off looking for them. The Dwarves stopped in their work as Kaylea and Thorin rode up, eager to hear news of how they had passed the night. Gandalf and Bilbo were first to greet them as Kaylea set Thorin down and swung off her horse.

“We slew many of the pack and pursued them through the night to the Bruinen,” Kaylea told the wizard. “Still, I fear a few escaped us. We saw where these orcs turned back to attack you, but Thorin said his company could handle them.”

Gandalf nodded. “Yes, they came upon us here just past midnight. We were able to fight them off, I think our resistance rather surprised them. But you have had a long night’s ride, I expect you will be wanting some breakfast.”  

“Thank you, but not right away,” Kaylea replied. “I must tend to my horse first, and wash up.” With that she turned and led her horse away around the rocks towards the stream.

Thorin looked at himself then and realized he was covered in black blood, mud and tree sap and felt he must look quite the sight. “A wash seems a good idea,” he said. He turned to make his way to the stream, careful to head in the opposite direction from the way Kaylea had gone. Most of the other Dwarves followed him, eager to hear his account of the events of the night but when they saw him wade into the stream they all felt it was time for a wash and joined him.

Echoes of You Ch. 3

Read on Ao3

Akuma. 

The word flit around the ruined studio like a butterfly from flower to flower. Marinette could finally see fear beginning to bleed into the studio as people backed away from the girl. Marinette crawled behind the fallen lighting fixture, using it as cover as the girl descended into the room. The closer she got, the more details she could make out. Her skin, Marinette saw, was also a deep shade of purple, but her long pony-tail was stark white, as were her eyes.

She laughed as her bare feet touched the ground, swinging the needle around like a sword as she took them all in from the point of it. 

“I am Scream-ripper,” she announced, swinging the needle up. Marinette felt her mind blank, totally still and silent as she took in the sheer size of the thing. “Where is Dominique Valencourt?”

The needle swung down again, stopping once it was pointed at the lady who had been manning the craft table. The woman squealed, backing up. “I don’t know! I don’t know!”

“Aw, too bad.” Scream-ripper lunged. Marinette threw a hand over her mouth as the needle pierced the woman’s chest, but for a moment nothing happened. No blood, no screams of agony, no nothing. Sream-ripper withdrew the needle and leapt after someone else, leaving the woman in her wake.

The violence of it shocked Marinette back into action. She twisted onto her hands and knees and crawled towards the woman from the crafts table. She was still sprawled behind the over turned table, tugging at her t-shirt where the needle had gone through. 

“Are you ok?” Marinette whispered as she reached the woman. 

She shook her head, curly red-hair flying. “Something’s wrong! I can’t - I can’t - ”

Marinette frowned. As she watched, the woman’s movements became less frantic, her limbs stiffer as she felt her abdomen. “What is it,” Marinette asked, reaching out. “How can I help?”

“You…can’t…” Marinette recoiled as her fingers touched the woman’s bare arm; it was hard and cold to the touch. “Only…Ladybug…”

Marinette could only watch in horror as the woman finally stilled. It seemed an uncomfortable position, leaning back with only one hand behind her for support, but she didn’t move again. Her brown eyes stared at nothing. The sun shone through the ragged hole in the ceiling, glinting off her skin.

No, not skin, Marinette realized as she touched the woman’s cheek. Porcelain. Real porcelain. That thing, that girl, had turned this woman into…

“A mannequin.”

The words slipped out unbidden, a horrible truth Marinette couldn’t unrealize. 

“Dominique!”

Marinette whipped around, scrambling backwards as that girl, Scream-ripper, made another circuit of the room. Several more people had found themselves on the wrong end of the needle. She counted at least seven pairs of unseeing eyes.

“You.” Marinette looked up to find Scream-rippers’ needle levelled at her own chest. “Where. Is. Dominique?”

“I…I don’t know,” Marinette said as she desperately felt around for something to defend herself with. “I haven’t seen her since the shoot began.”

“Yes, that would be about the time she fired me,” Scream-ripper hissed. “Too bad. So sad.”

Scream-ripper abruptly leaned back, angling her needle in. She lunged. Just before the needle would have pierced her, Marinette rolled to the side, throwing herself over the table as Scream-ripper sailed by her. The needle glanced off the floor, sending up sparks, but Marinette was already running.

Scream-ripper howled behind Marinette as she sprinted back towards her toppled chair and the purse she’d left behind. If she could just reach her phone, she could call for help. She risked a glance behind her to gauge the monster’s progress. It turned out to be a mistake. 

No sooner had she looked than Marinette felt her toe catch on something for the second time that day. This time Adrien wasn’t there to save her. She sprawled across the floor of the studio, some loose sand barely breaking her fall and grinding painfully under her hands. 

A lightbulb went off, and Marinette grabbed a handful of sand as she flipped over. Scream-ripper had risen into the air once again, apparently taking Marinette’s avoidance of her initial attack as a personal failing. 

Marinette bit her lip, pushing herself closer to her purse by her heels as Scream-ripper advanced on her. Her violet eyes blazed as she bore down on Marinette.

1…2…3… Marinette waited until the last possible moment, then threw her fistful of sand as Scream-ripper prepared to lunge again. 

Marinette staggered as she climbed to her feet. Scream-ripped shrieked behind her, clawing at her face. “I will end you!”

Marinette felt more than she saw Scream-ripper take a wild swing at her exposed back. There was no avoiding it this time. Her luck had finally run out. 

Clang!

“Attacking someone who’s unarmed?” someone said. “Tsk tsk. Not very sportsmanlike.”

Marinette stumbled to a stop, snatching up her purse as she spun back around. She nearly collapsed at the sight of the boy in black standing between her and the monster, a metal baton held at Scream-rippers chest like a sword. She met a pair of glowing green eyes that sent tingles rocketing over her skin as the boy glanced back at her. Her blood rushed in her ears, and she wondered if he could hear her heart pounding from where he was standing. From the way the black ears on top of his head twitched and he grinned at her, she had a sneaking suspicion he could. 

“Sorry I’m late,” the boy said before turning back towards Scream-ripper. “But I came as fast as I could. Pretty sure I beat my purr-sonal best.”

Marinette frowned as warmth and joy and…and…familiarity crept through her chest. “Do I…know you?”

The boy looked back at her again as he advanced on the monster. She thought he looked confused, but his expression suddenly cleared, as though catching on.

“Find a place to hide,” the boy said as he avoided a strike from Scream-ripper. “Ladybug will be here soon. She’ll fix everything.”

Deja vu. The feeling of it swept over Marinette as she crouched back behind the fallen lighting fixture and watched the cat-boy fight the monster. Like she’d seen this, or dreamed this, before. 

‘Do I know you?’

She was sure she didn’t. After all, she didn’t think she’d ever forget someone like that. But more important was the screaming feeling that she should. 

She watched the boy fight, watched him dance across the room with Scream-ripper, the two of them thrusting and parrying and and dodging. The boy fired off cat-themed quip after quip, his rakish smile never faltering. An earlier conversation drifted back to her.

‘Ladybug and Chat Noir had a close call…they would never let anything happen to you.’

Then this boy must be… “Chat Noir?”

One ear flicked back towards her, as though he’d somehow heard her speak over the clash of the needle against his baton. His suit did remind her of that girl from the picture on Alya’s blog, and he seemed dead-set on keeping Scream-ripper from turning anyone else into a creepy statue.

Marinette made herself focus on her breathing, on relaxing her fingers, which had gone white and stiff wrapped tightly around a metal pole on the lighting fixture. She didn’t know when it happened, but her terror had burned away, supplanted by a burning desire to do something.

But…no, that wasn’t right. Dizziness swept her as war raged between her instincts. She was always running away, from everything. Why was she suddenly, desperately afraid to leave this boy to fight Scream-ripper on his own?

“Starting the party without me? Now that’s a faux pas!”

Everyone froze, even Scream-ripper, as the voice echoed through out the room. Chat Noir took advantage of the opening to land a kick on the monster that sent her flying across the room, her needle clattering to the ground. 

“You’re timing is impeccable, as always, m’la…”

Chat Noir trailed off as he stared the girl that had appeared on the edge of the jagged hole Scream-ripper had left in the ceiling. There was no mistaking the red and black suit, but there was something about her, something different from the photograph on Alya’s blog. Her hair, though still jet black, tumbled down around her shoulders. A single red ribbon held it back from her face like a hair band, the loose ends twisting through the loose waves. 

The suit, too, seemed different. Swaths of black covered her arms and legs like gloves and boots, leaving just the torso red and spotted. Still, there was no missing the ladybug motif. The longer she looked, the more sure Marinette was: this was Ladybug.

A shout from Scream-ripper thrust Marinette painfully back into the present. Her heart leapt as the monster came dangerously close to nicking Chat Noir with the point of her needle. Even so, he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from his partner as she swung down into the fray, his ears straight back and flat. 

Marinette could only catch snippets of Ladybug and Chat Noir’s conversation as they pressed Scream-ripper back.

“…who you think you are…anything happened to her…” Chat Noir’s eyes flashed as he attacked, fiercer than before.

“…what you’re talking about…” Ladybug grunted, stumbling out of the way of Scream-rippers needle. 

“…not her! You…Ladybug!”

“…my choice…with it, Kitty.”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT.”

Marinette flinched as Chat Noir’s voice ricocheted around the room. Even Ladybug seemed paler. She lowered her voice as she leaned into her partner, her face hard. Chat Noir stepped away from her, leaping to Scream-rippers other side, apparently choosing to fight the monster separately. Ladybug seemed content to let Chat Noir choose, but it quickly became apparent that Ladybug needed his help more than he needed hers.

Scream-ripper kicked out abruptly, sending Ladybug flying. Marinette ducked as the super heroine sailed by her, suddenly realizing how much closer the fight had come to her hiding spot. Chat Noir took advantage of the move, but he was more reckless than before. In a strike too quick to see, Scream-ripper hit Chat Noir’s baton with a clang that made Marinette’s ears hurt and sent his only weapon skittering away across the mannequin strewn floor, leaving an opening so wide you could drive a truck through it.

Marinette didn’t think; she just leapt.

It didn’t hurt like she’d expected it would when the needle tore through her left shoulder and across her back. It felt like ice, like the beginning of a wound that never started to hurt. The porcelain spider-webbing from the mark, however, was a different story. It didn’t hurt, but it tickled as it rapidly spilled across her skin, and then it didn’t feel like anything at all.

“Marinette? Marinette!” Chat Noir’s face was right in front of her, panic filling those beautiful green eyes. “No! I…I promised I’d… I promised…!”

“I had to…stop her,” Marinette said. Her lips didn’t seem to want to work. “Ladybug needs you…to win.”

For a moment his face hardened, and Marinette thought he might refuse to work with his partner, but then he gave her a single nod. “I’ll save you,” he swore, helping her sit down. 

“I…know,” she managed, but it was too hard to say anything else. Her hands rested uselessly in her lap. Her head tilted back until it rested against a the light fixture and stilled. Marinette stared straight ahead, seeing nothing. 

Ryuka Clan. The Ryuka Clan is a legendary and noble clan who crafted several forbidden techniques which are exclusively for the use of the family. Their clan is feared among the men and women in Seireitei. Due to the destructive nature of their spells, they entered an agreement with Central 46 and Gotei 13 that they will only be summoned for battles during times of emergencies. With this, they built their barracks underground to prevent any casualties during spell practices.

"A wide range spell was casted here," she said as she entered the area where the massacre scene happened. The place is now surrounded by woods erected from the ground casted with a seal to prevent anyone from entering it.

Kneeling with one knee, she analyzed the ashes scattered around the area as a byproduct of the spell. She brushed her fingers against the floor to carefully feel its texture.

"It is still fresh. I can still feel the reiatsu in it. If I have to accurately calculate, this spell was only casted today."

To begin her investigation, she brought out the round wooden tablet from her shihakushou and placed it on the ground. 

"Kuchiki-taichou, please leave the area for a while. My detection spell might absorb your reiatsu and might mess up my readings," she requested from the man who was standing beside her. 

With his suspicion, Byakuya reluctantly left the place. He stands by outside the area where he can observe her from afar.

Assuring that the area is cleared with any foreign reiatsu from above and beneath the ground, she began to slightly unsheath her zanpakuto with her left hand to cut her index finger. With her blood, she drew a crossed-shaped pattern on the tablet. 

"Oh vast great skies, gather the reishi around me. Light of the world that grants power, call the ancestors who are in peace. Ryuka Bakudou 14: Kenshutsu."

With this chant, the cross pattern emitted a light that extends to each side of the perimeter of the area. The reishi around the place were absorbed by the light and were sealed inside the tablet turning it violet.  The hazardous reiatsu was now wiped out in the site.  

As she stood up, she placed the tablet in between her palms and closed her eyes. She now started sensing each spirit ribbon in Soul Society to know who the reiatsu belongs to. However, after a wide range search, the caster of the spell was nowhere to be found. 

With frustrations penting up inside her, she temporarily concluded that the culprit may have already gone to another world. Ending her analysis, she stopped her spell and placed the tablet inside her shihakushou. With flash steps, she went to Byakuya to report her findings. 

"Kuchiki-taichou, we need to call for a captains' meeting," she said while gently landing beside him. 

Wanting to know what happened, he inquired for the results. 

"Did you find out the culprit?"

She looked at him with a pensive expression.

"It is not here in Soul Society."

"..."

Brushing the dirt off from her haori, she felt the weight of his piercing glare. 

With confidence, she assuringly replied, "Relax! Together, we will find out who caused this."

Looking at the obliterated area, she thought of a way to ease the captain's worries. 

"Do you want me to rebuild this?"

"You don't have to concern yourself with that."

"Nah, I know this is your turf, but I'll save you the hassle of rebuilding this."

"Don't make me repeat my---," his response was cut off as he saw her lift her hand pointing at the direction of the area. 

Light came flowing from the female captain's hand going to the ground. Each barracks, establishment, and even trees began to be erected. 

Gazing with amazement, Byakuya was glad to see the place completely reconstructed. 

"See? You don't have to worry about it. This place now has a quarter of my reiatsu mixed with the reishi I collected from the air."

Turning his gaze back at her, he has observed a strike of exhaustion from the captain's eyes. 

"I am out of practice. That's what I get from doing solely paperworks and documenting spells crafted by my squad." 

Disturbing her thoughts, she noticed Byakuya's intense fixed stare at her. 

"Brush off your suspicion. I am not an enemy of Sereitei. Our squad is your ally in protecting Soul Society."

"..."

"I will personally take care of anyone misusing the Ryuka clan spells even if he or she is my subordinate," she said with a bit of uneasiness in her heart. 

___

At the Captains' Assembly Hall, the noise of chitchats can be heard. All of the captains were already present except the Captain Commander, Kuchiki-taichou, and two other captains. 

"Why did the Captain Commander called for an emergency meeting?" inquired a tall man with short white haired wearing a sleeveless shihakushou and a captain's haori with the kanji of nine imprinted on its back. 

"I am not quite sure, Muguruma-taichou. I am guessing it will be about the attack near the Kuchiki manor," replied by another captain who looks like a male teenager. He has a white spiky hair and mint green eyes. He wears a captain haori with the kanji of ten written on its back. 

"If it comes to this, then it is something serious. The nobles don't usually contact us unless they need more military power. What do you think, Hitsugaya-taichou."

Their conversation was interrupted when the council room's doors were opened. Outside it stands two figures one belonging to a male and the other belongs to a female. 

"It's the 14th squad captain! What is Kuchiki-taichou doing with her?" Hitsugaya thought to himself. 

As they entered the hall, another two figures were walking behind them. 

"My, my, Riyon-chan. What made you finally get out of the dark?" a tall man with long wavy hair tied into a pony said while gently tilting his kasa as if covering his eyes. On top of his captain's haori hangs a pink kimono with floral patterns.

Knowing who that familiar voice belongs to, Riyon suddenly stopped walking and greeted the man. 

"Easy going as always, Kyouraku-kun," she said in a meek tone. 

"After you have been inaugurated as a captain, we never saw you anymore. We miss you," said another familiar voice who belonged to a tall man with long white hair. He wears a captain haori with long sleeves and the kanji of thirteen imprinted on its back. 

"Ukitake-kun, glad to see you strong. I hope you get well soon."

The other captain replied with a smile while placing his hand on his head. 

Disrupting their lovely reunion, the sound of a loud thump was heard silencing the room. It came from a cane owned by Yamamoto Genryuusai. With the presence of the Captain Commander, the captains went to their designated post and lined up with the exemption of Byakuya and Riyon. They were instead, called to the front along with the old man. 

"Why would you call an urgent captains' meeting, Ryuka-taichou?" the Captain Commander asked to get the business done while he sat on his chair.  

Removing the hood enveloping her head, she then replied, "before I answer that, permission to use our clan's technique first?"

Raising  one of his eyebrows, the captain commander said in response to her question, "for what purpose will you use it for?"

"I'll have to show you what I have gathered in this," she said as she brings out the round wooden tablet from her shihakushou. 

"As long as it is not a destructive one, you may do so."

Facing the captains who are eager to hear what she has to say, she knelt down and put the tablet on the floor. 

"My fellow captains, please take at least two to three steps back."

Knowing that everyone has already cleared the center aisle, she closes her eyes and whispers some words. Violet smoke came out from the tablet and crawled on the floor. It began forming each barracks, establishments, and trees that were destroyed in the area.

Everyone felt a menacing chill when the reiatsu was released from the tablet. 

"What is this feeling? It's like a blade is placed on my neck," Hitsugaya thought to himself showing a rather disturbed expression. 

"The fear that you are feeling right now, shake it off with your own spiritual pressure. Don't let it consume you. This is the very nature of a Ryuka clan spell," Riyon instructed them as she stood up and proceeded to one side of the now established ruined area formed by the violet smoke. 

Facing Yamamoto, she began her explanation, "Yamamoto-taichou, based on my readings, I can confidently predict where the spell was casted. If we will take the exposure to the flames into consideration, we can say that they casted it here…"

Producing two small balls of light with her reiatsu, she marked two places above the area. Then she placed another one in front of the ruins. 

"There were three casters in total according to my calculations. As you can see, the ruined area consisted of five barracks and a training ground in the middle of it."

She paused for a while and gave Byakuya a worried look. 

"With a Class S level of destruction, I accurately presume that it was Hado Number 248 Death Inferno Flame spell."

"That is absurd! We only have until number 99 for our spells," reacted by a short haired woman with two long strands of hair wrapped in a bandage with gold circles on its end. She was wearing a captain's haori with the kanji of two imprinted on its back. 

Turning to the lady, Riyon gave her a sharp look. 

"Soi Fon taichou, our clan spells go way higher than 300 as what have stated in our history books."

Slowly returning her eyes to Byakuya, she continued explaining her findings. 

"I hate to say this, but Kuchiki-taichou, you've lost some elite men, women, and some children. To my calculations, around 71."

Knitting his eyebrows with this fresh devastating news, Byakuya clenched his fists. 

Uproars can be also heard from the lips of the other captains. 

"Silence!" 

The noise died down with a word from the Captain Commander.

Looking at her with a stern expression, he firmly asked, "Did you find the caster?"

"I went through a wide range sensing of spirit ribbons combing through every corner of Seireitei and Rukongai. However," she paused for a while while placing her hands on her chest. 

"It seems that it doesn't belong here."

"You know you will have to find them as soon as possible, am I right, Ryuka-taichou?" 

"I will see to it that I will find them. I will clear the name of my clan and," she paused again midway her sentence and gave Byakuya a glance, "I will help Kuchiki-taichou in finding justice for his people. That's why…"

With conviction, she looked at each captain one by one before finally fixing her eyes on the Captain Commander. 

"I will be needing your strength as the Gotei 13 to help me in finding the culprit."

There was a brief dead air before the Captain Commander gave his reply, "Gotei 13 will aid you, but you will be the one solely responsible resolving this issue."

"I take full responsibility. To begin with," she walked towards the captain wearing black and white stripes face paint and gold headdress,  "I will be needing your help, Kurotsuchi-taichou."

When Lightning Strikes - Chapter 15

Author Disclaimer:: The Hobbit, Middle Earth and its characters are not mine. I take no credit. The story line and even some dialogue–also not mine. Instead I claim my Original Character Laurel and the adjustments to the story line.

Summary:: From when Laurel Took was small she dreamed of a man. Every time she dreamed of him, he could not see or hear her. Over time they are able to communicate–but he’s been dreaming about her too. Finally after years of anticipation Laurel takes the leap and kisses him. Only for her to wake up and dread the real world. Then lightning strikes and she finds herself in a familiar place, with a familiar face.

Rated:: M for Mature. Please do not read this story unless you are 18+ At this point in the story there isn’t much, but later on the M rating will come into effect.

Warnings:: Language, Violence and Scenes of Sexual Nature. Smutty Chapter Here!

Pairing:: Kili x OC (Laurel)

Laurel

Once we finally got back into the water, Kili couldn't keep his hands off of me. Everything was surreal, like a very lucid dream. Something possessed me to act the last hour. Never in my life had I thought I would be in the woods fooling around with a man; or dwarf in this case. Especially Kili.

It didn't help that when I saw him wet and half naked I immediately clenched my thighs.

Throughout the days I had been here, there were times that I would find myself starring at him. It was just wrong to be that handsome. It should be an act against God to approach me the way he did; dripping wet, light curls on his chest and trailing down to the unknown. Then he hugged me, and I could feel him hot and hard but still soft against my stomach.

Since I didn't have experience dating and I worked and hunted, I read a lot to keep my mind off of my dreams. Through reading I did find what romance should be, how your face should heat and legs tremble at the sight of something truly sexy. I found things I would have never thought possible in the act of sex or fooling around. Not having any friends of my own to gossip with I did a lot of internet reading, and after a few dreams at sixteen of Kili shirtless doing odds and ends; I started touching myself in the mornings.

What transpired just now was nothing like what I normally experienced. I didn't know there was that big finale that made me quiver and scream with ecstasy.

I didn't want to accept a courting braid, I didn't want to define anything between us in fear he did die. The look of hurt that crossed his face had me wanting to do anything to make him feel better.

And to hug me close so I could feel his skin against my own and ignite the fire within me.

Kili and I ended up washing each other, and I had to slap his hands away when the touches turned into burning caresses that wanted to lead to more. When we left the water I tried my hardest not to hide myself when I could feel his leering gaze on my ass. Wrapped in my towel, I sat in the soft grass and waited for Kili to meet me. It was surprising how effortless it was for him to comb his fingers through my hair and twist a braid just under my hairline behind my ear. It was a very intricate braid, but easily hidden beneath all my hair. He used the bead that he had put in it in Rivendell, then placed another braid in the top half of my hair, clasping it with the bead in his own hair.

"There," he murmured pressing a kiss to my shoulder, the act very sincere and loving. "It is there for anyone to see if they shall look. I would have made it bigger, but I did not want uncle to anger. He is coming to terms, so I do not want to push him."

"Do I put one in your hair," I asked, reaching into his dark brown locks and fingering the softness. It was still slick with water.

"No. You just proudly wear that. Do not unbraid it, it would signify that you are revoking the courtship. I should be the only one to remove it, only to re-braid it."

Once we dressed—I had to fight Kili playfully as he tried to undress me—we returned to the house. The company had already eaten, but they saved Kili and I food. We ate together by the rest of the dwarves who were settled into the hay.

"Where were you two off too," Fili asked quirking an eyebrow.

Immediately my face turned red thinking about the sexual acts I had just shared with his brother a while ago. Quickly I buried my face into my chest letting my hair hide me.

Kili cleared his throat, "Taking a walk. Talking."

I chanced a glance at Fili to see he was glaring at his brother with a look of suspicion.

After a while everyone started to settle, resting so that we could rise and leave for Mirkwood in the morning.

We were woke a handful at a time, each gathering our packs and weapons. Outside Beorn had ponies waiting for us. There were not enough for each, so most of us doubled up. One horse waited for Gandalf. Kili and I settled our things onto the pony, jumping onto the animal and preparing for departure.

"If you trot, you should reach Mirkwood by midday," Beorn offered, "at the wood line, please leave my ponies. Follow the elvish path and it should be mostly safe. Beware the elves of the wood, they do not act the same as their foreign kin of Rivendell."

True to Beorn's word, we reached the darker forest by midday. It didn't take long for us to get off our ponies and gear up. Gandalf did not get off his horse at all.

"I have very pressing matters to attend to," he grunted, "I will meet you at the Lonely Mountain. Do not stray from the elvish path. There is a sickness in these woods and you will never leave, seeing things that are not true for the rest of your life. Do not enter that mountain without me Thorin Oakenshield and company."

With the warnings he left at a full gallop, leaving me with unease. The wood was sick? Was it something in the air? None the less I followed the rest, hand on my sword, as we entered the dark forest. It was simple enough, a stone path was made of squares showing which way to go. There wasn't any forks or three ways to worry about. Sometimes we had to halt while the path was cleared because it seemed to have ended.

The day wore on, nighttime starting to come to us. Thorin declared we would travel for as long as it took until we got out of the woods. It was dark and eerie in there so I understood his concern. The trees were gnarled in places and the air was thick. It wasn't unbearable but uncomfortable.

Slowly I started to see the sickness Gandalf spoke of. Not in myself, but the dwarves.

Bofur started to spout nonsense about the firelights sparkling before his eyes. Dori, Nori, and Ori were pushing each other back and forth about getting the last dinner roll. Bilbo was looking around as if he were hearing noises, and stopped before Dwalin, poking him in the chest and squinting deeply.

The leader of the group, Balin at the time, just kept dragging his feet and walking, not stopping to see if we were following them. A terrible feeling pitted itself in my stomach, as if we were being watched. Idly I grabbed for my smaller pocket knife and stuck it in between the bare skin of my bottom and underwear. Something was telling me I needed to hide it.

Suddenly Kili rounded on me, ripping my bow off my shoulders and grabbing me by the thighs to push me up against a tree. Fear didn't fill me as it should have, but confusion.

His lips crashed against my own in recklessness. A hiss left me when he accidentally pinched my lip against my teeth with his own. "Kili," I hissed, "what are you doing? Everyone is in front of us! We are trying to get out of here!"

"Mmm what are you talking about little doe," his voice dripped something fierce. "'Tis our wedding night, I am consummating our marriage."

My heart started to thump wildly against my chest. The sickness took him as well. He was hallucinating. I tried my hardest to push against his chest, beating it for a moment to gain his attention. "No it isn't. We are in Mirkwood, it is the sickness," I hissed trying to get him to see reason.

A gasp left me when his lips started to dance against my throat and neck. I came to find out over the last three or four encounters that my neck and throat were my favorite spots. Soft gasps of appreciation turned to deep moans when his teeth sunk into my skin, harsh and passionate. My back scrapped the harsh bark of the wood as he pushed me up so that he could push himself between my legs. Even through his thick trousers I could feel him hot and hard grinding against me. It was a wonderful friction I craved for, but seeing everyone standing around us had me cringing.

Even if they weren't paying attention, I didn't want to have moments like this in front of them.

"Stop," I beat against his back, "seriously Kili we can't do this right now!"

A growl rumbled against my collarbone where he bit me harshly again, this time pain finding me instead of pleasure. My breast was grasped harshly, another hand ripping at my shirt since I was pinned to the tree. Once my shirt was in pieces below me I started to thrash and beat on him more. Deep down I feared that he wouldn't stop. Not that I didn't want to experience wonderful sensations with him, but my first time would not be in front of the company, and him not in his right mind.

Everything happened at once.

Someone hit Kili in the back of the head, he grunted, dropping me. All around us elves were disarming and pushing other members of the company into small groups and aiming weapons at them. The elf that hit Kili in the back of the head was taller than him by a margin, white blonde hair braided down the side of his head above his pointed ears. Armed with a bow and a sword at his side, he pointed the end of his bow at Kili's throat.

"I do believe she said stop," he hissed at Kili. I was stunned, watching from the ground in just my bra and pants. Hesitantly I grabbed for my dagger, prepared to do something. Another elf smacked my hand with the end of her bow, causing me to drop my weapon.

A quick intake of breath met both of us when our eyes met. If anything I thought I could be looking at my sister, if I had one. Our hair was very similar in color, eyes the same shade of green. Her skin was paler than mine, but our faces sort of resembled. At that moment the elf that disarmed Kili gazed at me as well, his eyes widening. The female elf that smacked me looked at Kili, eyes widening as well, "Kili?"

She knew Kili? Immediately I felt the green eyed monster called jealousy rear its ugly head. Kili was attracted to elves; of course she knew Kili. My mood turned sour instead of scared at the prospect of being captured.

Slowly the gang of elves were searching all the dwarves for weapons. I could see the clarity in their eyes as they realized what was happening, that they were breaking the hold on the sickness that the forest had in the air. "Laurel," Kili's voice broke the air, his head snapping around frantically looking for me. I was already tied up and sitting on the ground.

"Calm down," I muttered, "I'm over here. No harm."

One elf was searching Fili for weapons, and I had to fight my smile as he pulled out sword after sword from a smirking dwarf. By my count twelve were already discovered. It was like a game to him. The elf that hit Kili was tying him up as well, grunting and muttering things about 'filthy dwarves'. Once everyone was tied up, we were being marched through the woods. After a while, familiarity took over.

It looked just the same as it did the first time I met Kili and was able to talk to him. I tried to focus on the problem at hand, though my mind kept traveling to all the things I had seen and heard in the past few hours. One is that Kili thought we were married and was trying to force himself onto me. Two was that the female elf knew him in evidently a personal way. Three was that I knew the brothers had daggers that weren't accounted for in their trousers. Finally I noticed that Bilbo was missing. My gut told me he wasn't gone, but merely using that odd ring to follow in the shadows.

We were led to a fortress, a very beautiful one. The walk was long but we found ourselves in cells and locked up, one or two of us each to a cell. The elf that got Kili off of me regarded me with a look of unease as he tossed a blanket at me before locking me in. Did he feel sorry for me? It was cold in their dungeons, so I wrapped myself up and shivered, thankful for the extra warmth.

Kili was thrown in the cell across from me by the female. I watched intently as he glared at her through the open door she had yet to close. "Nice to see you again Kili," she almost purred, "I better check for weapons."

A sneer found his face as he backed away, "I was already searched by Legolas. Shut the door, leave me be Tauriel."

More soft words were exchanged from Tauriel before she threw me a look over her shoulder, a questioning look. Once all the elves disappeared I slumped against the wall behind me in the small cell.

"She looks an awful lot like me," I muttered loud enough for Kili to hear. "And she is awful friendly with you."

"Nothing happened between us," he responded disdainfully.

Overtime I started to tune out the mutterings from the rest of the company. Kili fell silent after I didn't respond to his questions about my lack of shirt. Eventually my eyes closed and sleep found me.

The clang of metal woke me, my cell door opening. Legolas, as Kili called him, was offering me his hand. Was that sorrow in his eyes? Without taking it I rose, following him as he led me out of the cell and down the various walking paths. Tauriel was leading Thorin ahead of us. Eventually we reached a formal looking area that was surrounded in elves in armor. At the back of the suspended room was a beautiful throne of white wood and antlers. Seated in it another elf of intricate robes, sitting on white blonde hair like Legolas' was a reddish leaf crown, and he looked pissed off.

"Some may imagine that a noble quest is at hand. A quest to reclaim a homeland and slay a dragon. I myself suspect a more prosaic motive; attempted burglary, or something of that ilk. There are starlight gems inside that mountain I would like to reclaim myself," the king's commanding voice echoed across the hall. His eyes flittered to me, causing me to shiver and pulling the blanket around myself more. With a point of his chin, the blanket was ripped from me.

He rose, taking purposeful steps to walk around me and assess, "Now you have a…halfing elf in your presence? Tell me girl, what is your heritage?"

It took me a moment to clear my throat, it was so dry. "My name is Laurel Took," I coughed softly, "Evidently I am equally hobbit and elvish, and human."

"How did you come to the company of dwarves?"

Before I answered I glanced at Thorin, watching as his eyes turned to slits. "We found her at Rivendell," he muttered. I tried to school my surprise at his lie. "Elrond said that they found her without knowledge of where she was. My nephew took a liking to her so we took her with as a personal… chattel. It's very lonely on long travels."

Did Thorin just refer to me as a sex slave?

All the while I kept my mouth shut, trying not to act as surprised as I felt. What was he trying accomplish? Thorin looked dark and smug, while this king looked disgusted and even more pissed off.

"Is this true young one," he took a softer tone, "did they force you to commit acts that you did not want to?" With his words his fingers grazed my neck and shoulder. The touch stung if only for a second.

Kili mauled me.

"The dark haired archer was molesting her when we found them," Legolas offered.

The king glared at Thorin once more, pacing around the room. Finally he settled back into his throne. "Tauriel, take her and clean her up. Feed her and clothe her. Do not worry child, we will care for you from now forward," the king flicked his hand to the side.

I was whisked away promptly. Everything moved so fast as I was pushed into a hot tub of water and scrubbed by other female elves. Confusion coated each of them as they found my pocket knife when it tumbled out of my underwear. I was thankful they gave it back to me. They pushed me into a silver tight dress and attempted to unbraid my hair. I fought hard to keep it the way it was. When they turned I shoved the knife between my breasts. From there I was dragged to something that appeared to be a kitchen. Internally I groaned at the fruits and vegetables that were placed in front of me once more. There was no way in hell I was staying here as an elf and not eating meat. It was time to bust out of this bitch.

Once I finished off with bread Legolas appeared in the kitchen I was in. "Lady Laurel," he bowed softly, "allow me to escort you to your chambers."

I quirked an eyebrow, "I am not tired. I just woke a while ago when you fetched me from the cell I was in. What happened to my things?"

"You won't be needing them. We will care for you as my father said before," he replied.

Father? So I was talking to another prince. Overall he was a handsome elf, but he was no Kili—who seemed to ooze sexiness with even the smallest of smirks.

"Well I may not need all my things, but I need some things from my pack. Personal things," I offered, trying to smile and look appealing to get what I want. He looked at me with a small smile and offered his arm.

"Of course," he stated as he led me away. "They are in the wine cellar. We can go there now."

"Oh I've never had elvish wine before," I replied pretending to be excited. "I was only in Rivendell for a few days when the dwarves took me with them."

Throughout all the mazes I begun to get confused and lost. Hopefully Bilbo was sneaking around somewhere so that our soon to be escape would be more easily done. The way that Legolas peered at me from the corner of his eyes seemed to be that of interest. Interest for what I do not know, but I didn't care for the look either way. "You share a striking resemblance to Tauriel," he mentioned as we started to descend some stairs.

"I've noticed," I muttered. Surprisingly we found ourselves in the dungeons where all the dwarves were sitting and sulking. My eyes looked to find Kili resting against the wall tired and droopy eyed. "Actually, do you mind if I speak with the…filthy dwarves," I forced myself to sound disgusted.

Legolas' eyes narrowed as he took a step toward another set of stairs leading to the cellar. "Why do you want to talk to your captors," he reasoned.

"Well the king acted as if he wanted something from Thorin," I replied evasively, "I suspect I can use their liking to me as an advantage to help him get what he wants. For all the kindness he is bestowing on me of course."

It was convincing to even myself, how my speech changed, coy and innocent at the same time. Without another word Legolas nodded and left, stomping down the stairs two at a time. In a hurry I ran to Thorin's cell first, slapping my hands against the bars to startle him to attention.

"What is your plan," I whispered hurriedly before Legolas returned.

"Find the keys to the cellar and release us, we will figure out the rest as we go," he muttered looking around too. "Where is Bilbo?"

"Lurking around somewhere I suppose, he is probably trying to formulate a plan himself," I muttered. "Ideas on where the guards with the keys went?"

"The wine cellar," Kili's voice called out behind me. Slowly I left Thorin, to walk hurriedly to Kili's cell and lean into it to see him more properly. His fingers wrapped around mine through the cold metal as his eyes raked my body. "I very much like that dress."

A small smile tugged at my lips, "Thank you. It is too tight."

"Little doe," he whispered, face pressing against the bars, "I am truly sorry for what I did before we came to be here."

"Its alright," I squeezed his hand, "it was the sickness of the woods. I understand. Just focus on trying to get out of here for now." I pressed my lips against his fingers, feeling the coldness in his flesh seep into my soft skin.

We had to get out of here.

Previous Chapter << Chapter 14: Moonlight Hues

Next Chapter >> Chapter 16: Lucid Trickery

[ weep ]++

word prompts compilation [ weep ]  for your muse to catch mine crying // ++ reverse  // @peepingtoad

The summer evening embraced the streets with particularly gentle warmth and calmness. A sky dusted in faint purples and pinks as the clouds gathered lowly overly the horizon. As if an artist had painted it there to be specifically beautiful. The clean air greeted passing shinobi with just the right breeze to cast away any overbearing heat, yet never enough to cause a chill. The leaves barely moved from the almost windless afternoon, that soft gust only ever running tender fingers through the branches and tall grass. It is almost enough to fool the serpent in to admiring the small things in life, in to noticing the gathering of all this beauty, and cut the world some slack from their usual disdain. Almost. For when Hiruzen approaches them in his office, the serpent having been tidying up after hours and neatening the piles of yet to be finished paperwork, they can instantly see a rather grim expression lining his eyes. He doesn’t mention it, they don’t ask, but when their mentor tells them to do one last minute errand, when that errand is the delivery of a single letter to their comrade, issuing exemption from the next assignment for no mentioned reason, they are quick to link something being wrong to Jiraiya. It is why they abandon the walk on cobbled and paved pathways, why they gracefully move about rooftops until they wind up at his door. They would have knocked, but they can instantly see the door is ajar. As if Jiraiya had been there and forgotten to close it, as if something had swept his mind away from the task. Gently pushing it open, their voice calls in their usual reserved and quiet manner, “Jiraiya?” announcing their presence softly, since it was unwise to ever enter a shinobi’s home, even the friendliest sort, without ensuring the homeowner knew they were friend rather than foe. When they enter the living space however, golden eyes find themselves greeted by a picture that would haunt them for all of time. Strands of tufted white hair falling in front of his face like a curtain when his head was lowered, veiling his eyes, his expression. But the way he leans forward in his seat is telling, something clasped in his hand as if it may have physically harmed him, broad shoulders shaking from something uncontained in his chest. It is a moment of pause only before they cross the distance between them, not one to ever know how to navigate social situations with any true finesse, yet forgetting their own social oddity when they are left with lingering pangs of concern for their team mate. Still as soundless as a housecat, they have crossed the threshold in to the lounge by instinct alone. Not knowing what had feasted upon his heart to drive the man to erratic breaths and tears, but knowing that the only means of ridding any demon, tangible or invisible, was to be at his side. Finding their seat against him, a hand placed to his knee, until they can make out the letter in his hand, until the edge of the paper, shaky hand writing but oh so recognizable, can be deciphered by golden optics. They didn’t need to be a genius to put two and two together, and the feeling is as sharp to them as a blade driving itself through their stomach. Stealing their breath when they try to consider how they might reverse this, fix this, save him. But this grief, one so very familiar to the serpent, is not something they can fight off. How fragile humans were, both in death and life. And how cruel and tasteless of the evening, to offer these stunning skies so touched by beauty on a day like this. As if the world itself may dare to smile, while their teammate weeps. His tears strike them like razor blades, as the desperation grows to do something, anything, to somehow free him from this moment. Watching in helpless unease as the young male shakes from the pain gathering in his head, wracking him with sorrow that could never be measured. For one always feels too young to say goodbye to a parent. They feel as if they too have been tossed back in time, as if they are not a well established shinobi of the highest caliber. As if they have not faced bloodthirsty enemies and come out on top. As if they haven’t seen more than anyone ought to at only nineteen years old and aged quickly to counter such a lifestyle. They feel as if they may as well be that seven year old child again, except this time, instead of having Jiraiya throwing his small arms around their shoulders when they staggered upon the news of their passing parents, it is the boy who must wrestle with loss. Did the universe, with all its answerless and meaningless nerve, not know what she was worth? They place a hand under his chin, to bring him to look up, to stop him from causing himself greater pain by reeling too hard. Because they know how one wishes to give control to the body when the mind wants nothing to do with the real world anymore. When thinking may as well be more agonizing than being set on fire. So they force him to look at them a moment, almost wishing they hadn’t when the marks of tears in his midnight eyes threaten to bring that reflective emotion to their own gaze. It wasn’t their right to cry however, and they have stoned themself long enough to get away with a mere shaken breath before they speak. Even if his eyes seem to beg them to tell him it’s a lie, that she hadn’t run out of time with him. Even if they know that this structure around him would no longer feel like home, for he had only ever found home in her eyes. Slender digits ghost along his cheekbone, wiping away the dampness that had made white hair cling to his tanned skin. Desperate to find the right words, but knowing they were never the sort for right words, he’s usually the one who does this sort of thing, “you need to breathe,” their words come softly, as if they may be coaxing him to stay with them when he was wounded on the field, a decision to try and prevent him from causing greater discomfort to his body by forgetting self preservation and basic duties, “breathe in, breathe out,” such simple words, but it seems he may need some prompting and reminding to remember even this, to not have burning lungs and a throbbing head, to not choke when his body’s instinctive reaction is to gasp at air that hadn’t been provided. Their hand slips around the back of his head, bringing him to rest against their chest, where he could cry in to the violet fabrics of their kimono, where he could banish the fears of being alone and find reassurance, if only for this moment, if only for a second. They place a kiss, firm and engulfed with their anger at this injustice, to the top of his head, not knowing if he would even notice a single gesture amid the turmoil crashing in to him. They would keep him held closely to their chest until they feel a hand upon their own shoulder, until caught off guard, they turn to see Tsunade has arrived too. No doubt the news had made her abandon any duty or activity, no doubt that the look in her eyes is the exact one the serpent offers her in return. They let Tsunade take their place, she would be better in the spoken reassurances than they might be. They can hear her speaking quietly to him now, enough softness to account for the great loss, enough sternness to make him trust she had everything under control. That if he fell a part, it would be all right. The serpent moves to the kitchen, where they can take the moment to lean against the counter, simply stilling their racing heart, which felt cold like ice in their chest. They rummage around in his cabinets, finding barely hidden alcohol of the strongest nature. Still only nineteen years old, they wouldn’t pretend they had the best ideas when it came to coping. Still only nineteen years old, if someone dared to tell their friend how he ought to grieve, the usually quiet serpent would undoubtedly tell that someone to fuck themselves. Feeling a pacing entity within them grow more restlessly ferocious to defend what life was theirs, to defend the precious life of the two shinobi beyond the archway of the door. They return, without glasses, perhaps not thinking about civility and etiquette in a moment like this. Seeing that Tsunade had managed to mitigate some of the more violent shudders from crying, so the serpent can offer the open bottle. So Jiraya can take the first few large swigs, with Tsunade and Orochimaru following a while later when he was finished. Where miseries can be spoken between friends with the relief of alcohol loosening everyones tongues. Until early morning has come, in all its blackness and silence. Until all three teammates have haphazardly found sleeping positions all on the same couch. All using one another as a pillow and bed as they had when they were children, comfortably uncomfortable, but refusing more space at the cost of being a part. Tsunade has already fallen asleep the serpent notes, as they guide blonde hair out of its high pony, and run out the kinks that had formed to spare her the tangles come morning. Until they pay their next attention to Jiraiya, their golden eyes heavy from wanting to succumb to the same rest the young woman had. “I never want to hurt you this much,” they say quietly, as they move to guide hair out of his face next, the slight lag to their speech a good indication that being tired and drunk was not a fight they were winning, speaking as their mind slips further in to rest, “if I die, I hope you won’t feel obliged to miss me, I hope you’ll forget me if it’s easier, pretend that it isn’t as sad as people said it would be. I hope you’re still just as happy, and that you’ll only love me until my last day, and never a day again.”

Your Wallet And Your Heart, She Has Both ((18+))

This fic is the product of over a weeks worth of work, as compared to my usual stuff that only takes a few hours or so, I think it may be my longest fic yet. Inspired by the Author of the Spinel Fic titled “Yearning” ((Read it here! )) And to anyone questioning what Spinel actually IS in this fic, I don’t even know myself. Spookier that way. Warnings: Death, Yandere, Stalking, Discussion Of Domestic Abuse, Light Horror, Cake

“Nevah had a reason ‘til tonight, to chase a fella down, then I looked at you leaving the hotel, so I followed. Cause I just had to know… who was that othah chick you were with? They seemed pretty miffed when ya left yer room, you dropped ya key on the way too so… I had another reason to follow you… and the third… I guess I just like ya face. Cute like a doll It… spoke to me, if that makes any sense…”, she stops to take a sip of her drink, “I’m surprised you didn’t notice me, what with the pink hair an’ all, so uh… I’m Spinel.”

Another sip of her drink, and a gentle chuckle as she looked down into her glass, “Don’t worry about tellin me yer name. I already know it.”, she held ip your wallet, and slid it back to you, “again honey, don’t worry. All your money is safe and sound where you left it. I’m not a thief, well, maybe I am… but… I don’t like stealin from pretty people like you, and ah… I got reasons to follow ya… I won’t be too far if ya evah need me for anythin, and I mean that, anything.”, she finished her drink and stood up, she pushed you down into your chair when you tried to follow, she put down some cash to pay for the drinks too. “No pal, I follow you, you don’t get to follow me ok? And ah… check you wallet. Left a present.”, and so… she left the bar. You check your wallet, her phone number was written on a piece of paper neatly tucked inside… along with 300 extra dollars. You feel as if she’s special to you already. A new best friend… You head back to your hotel room and pack your things, you’re breaking up with the beast of a person you were with… true love’s on its way, and so are you. Getting into your car… Lightning strikes behind you, the outline of her in your back seat… you check… no one there, you turn on the radio… just static… you drive off anyways. You want to call her as soon as you get home. “I just couldn’t leave em alone now could I? But… One look at em while I sat on the balcony next to their window the first night they were here… and I just finished offin my now late boyfriend too, kinda glad I wear these gloves all the time too… who am I talkin to? Oh yeah, me. So anyways… I just had to meet em… not like they had a choice… I covered my tracks pretty well and kept the ‘do not disturb’ sign up on the door with a sock on the knob… staff musta thought we was bein reeeeal quiet with the lovemakin… Hmm… what did he even do for me to waste one o’ my favorite butterflies in the back o’ his heart… oh yeaaaah… caught him smoochin some other broad in the same bar I found my new lovie dovie… hehe place o’ fate I tell ya, who? Me!”, she laughed at her little half joke…“Anyways… so now they’re in their house and I’m just sittin here in the backseat of their car, planning my next move… who knows, maybe ah… maybe I’ll marry this one… or are they gonna be number 12… I hope not… that face of theirs… oof… nevah seen a prettier picture, would look even bettah with plenty of my lipstick marks all over their cheeks…. damn I wish I could gotten out with em buuuut…. people freak out when someone they just met is suddenly on their car… looks like I got a long night… bettah get some sleep too… gotta be well rested for our dare tomorrow… not that they have a choice, it’s their neck on the line aftah all… but they don’t know that yet… they will. I’ll make sure of it.” Later on in the day, Spinel knocks on your door “Ok so uh, well I got outta your car and I locked it like a good girl, cause I know I am one, I knocked on your door hopin for a chance to see ya again and it’s real cold out here, so let me in ok?”, said Spinel after you opened your front door. Shocking it were to see her, to know she was hiding in your car the whole time… you figure she’d break into your home if you denied her now, so you let her in. She walked past you with a tired looking smile, and you took in the sight of her, pink hair in a pair long pony tails, long sleeve black shirt, form fitting with a black tank top adorned with a pink skull having a heart shaped crack on the forehead, a dark pink skirt looking stylishly tattered, and stockings stripped with pink and black, with a pair of thrice belted heavy looking knee height heeled boots, by all accounts… she should be noticed anywhere. You noticed her footsteps don’t make a sound… and you ask why.“Uuuh, I dunno either I just… step lightly? Kind of a wiiiierd question to ask babe, why don'tcha let me handle the questions ok? Number one, who was that bitch you were with? Number two, do ya live alone?”, You sigh and respond, she is your ex-girlfriend, you broke up with her a few hours ago. And you reluctantly say yes, you do live alone. “Hmmm great! Guess you’re all mine then!” You ask what she means “What do ya think it means pal? Means I’m your girlfriend! Ain’t ya happy for that? I mean… look at me? The cute skirt, the thick legs, my adorable face,  plenty of hair for ya to pull, you’d be stupid to reject me, and you look pretty smart to me hun, so say yes. Say I’m yours”, her expression hardened, “Say it. 'Spinel, you’re mine’, I want to hear it straight from those pretty lips.You hold yourself silent for a few seconds… and relent, you guess you need to be with someone… you can’t imagine being alone again… you say what she asked you to say, suddenly you feel a prick on your finger, it starts to bleed pretty badly, she holds your hand up and licks the blood away with a teasing giggle in her throat. "There, all better, now you’re stuck with me, I don’t leave you and you don’t leave me, got it hun?” You feel clawed hands crawling on your back… you don’t remember what happened next. You wake up next to Spinel. Trying to understand what just happened… you fail miserably. “M, m, mmm… last night was fun buuuut… I didn’t get to go as far as I wanted, they passed out before I could actually do anything, guess lettin em feel that clawin fear mighta been too much for em to handle. Still, maybe I oughta hold off on doin anythin freaky. They don’t seem like the lewd type anyways… heh, but the look on their face, if I wasnt already in love with em I woulda fallen for em right then and there, oh gosh their eyes were practically burning in terror! And the way their mouth hung open like they were aboutta scream, ooh that was bliss… hm, oh? Looks like they forgot somethin. They were sure scramblin outta bed when they woke up… hmmm., now that I think about it… oh. Oh no. No no no no… nobody rushes that fast at 5 in the mornin…”You were at work, a boring office job, but your coworkers kept to themselves, so you had no issues most of the time. But today, they put in a little pink palm tree in your cubicle, you nearly fell over on sight of it, thinking it was Spinel. You held your heart, feeling the thumping flesh within pounding a beat you could almost dance to, with a nervous chuckle you cover it with the seat cover on your chair and get straight to work. You pushed away every thought of her that you could, focusing solely on your work, typing code and responses, sending reports, the kind of mind numbing work your brain can just check out from. As you dozed off by little degrees your fingers quickened… until it was four hours later, and you realized you finished everything early, gleefully you hop from your chair, with plans to go down to your favorite café for a treat, do you head into the bathroom, change clothes, and head to your car. And you freeze. The night before the last the lightning struck and you saw her shadow in your car… and then she appeared at your house the next day. You remember that very well. So you make a point of checking every inch of your car as thoroughly as you can, the back seat, the front, the trunk, under the car as the wheels on yours put it a foot and a half off the ground… and curiously you check in both small compartments in the front of the car, you haven’t the slightest idea why, you just had to be sure she wasn’t hiding anywhere. With the check complete, you carefully got inside your car and drove off to taste some sweetness. You park, get out, check your car once more, then lock everything that could be locked on it before heading inside. The dimly lit room spoke of serenity as piano played to some slow classical tune from speakers overhead, the sound of rain played softly along with low thunder rolling away to add to the calming aura of this revered area, revered by you at least, here you felt the safest you could be outside your own home, but with her… you felt this was you last bastion of comfort. And you were already reconsidering staying with her. But those thoughts had no place here, you looked over the menu, burying your gaze in it completely and said to yourself you’d have a pumpkin cake and hot chocolate. Your heart beat swift on feeling a familiar voice rattle through your skull. “And how are ya gonna pay for that babe?”, Spinel said in an agitated tone while waving your wallet in one hand while she supported her head on the table with the other. She stared you down, her expression? Wrath. Directed all on you. You froze under her glare, speechless. “5 in the morning. Who rushes out of the house at five in the morning? Were you late for work? Or… did you just wanna get away from me? Didn’t even give me a kiss to say goodbye, didn’t check if I was awake, didn’t even offer breakfast. What kind of a lover are you huh? Hmph… doesn’t matter now. You’re gonna make it up to me, ok?”, she slammed the wallet on the table, “I’ll have what you’re having, and after this you’re takin me to see a movie, got it? Maybe more time in a dark room with me’ll teach ya to appreciate me more, little reminder honey, I came to you, and you said yes, so start acting like you want me.” The dim cafe grew silent with your focus narrowing on her, and all you heard was your heart beating steady as the booming tick of the clock sounded off every second to the unerring passage of time. And she stared. She stared and waited for an answer. the lightless void casted by failing shine seemed to grow ever deeper, surrounding you both and trapping you with her in an infinite darkness, such was her chokingly gripped presence around you, her small stature exuded energies unheard, and you swore you could see the inky tendrils of the depths emanating from her, a being incomprehensible to mortal ken. Her truest nature forever concealed as this negative glare only gave the hollow shell of what she really is, shaded by the limits of your mind. You stared into those eyes, a lover scorned she felt she were, and your silence only confirmed and fed the flowing madness slithering from her…Each ticking clang of the clock sounded closer to your demise, here and now. Speech had found you once more to snatch you from the jaws of Cerberus. You apologize. You tell her an excuse along with it, or rather, attempt to before she cuts you off.  “Oh you’re sorry now? Well how sorry are ya honey? Sorry enough to get me all the deserts I want? Sorry enough to take me out dancing? Sorry enough to… propose to me?” That last question ended with a grin as wide as her mystery, and as the darkness surrounding you both. You’re left speechless, blushing through the shock and scrambling in your mind for an answer when she takes the reigns of the conversation once more. “Ok that last one maaaay have been a bit too far, I mean… we’ve only been datin a few days now, and to be honest, while I ain’t lettin another girl even touch you, I’m not too sure I wanna spend the rest of your life on me! And I do mean that. Mean what? darlin ain’t ya listening? The rest of your life, not my life. I get the feelin I’ll still be around when you’re gone… but uuuh… I’ll enjoy every moment you’re alive. Oop! Changed my mind, Your life’s mine, the rest of you too, and ain’t nothin you can do about that ok? Nope, not gonna wait for an answer. Way I see it… we’re already a married couple, I mean… you did sign me in blood and all. But let’s drop this discussion and pick it up never, the waitress is comin ovah to take our ordahs!"And in a single moment as if on the flick of a switch, even the dim light of the cafe blinded you with the darkness disappearing behind the curtain of reality, though what reality even is you scarcely have a grasp on with the realizations of otherworldly powers that exist in front of you in the form of Spinel. You check the backlit clock on the wall, time had stayed still as the darkness enveloped you, and you laid back in your chair while trying to make sense of what just happened, what felt like hours was no time at all, but interrupted you were again by the waitress, asking what you wanted to order. Spinel only had a smile on her face while you placed the order, she held up the menu you had and pointed to a large vanilla cake topped with fudge and strawberries, did what she said in the darkness even happen? Either way, you order that cake for her, in addition to getting for her and yourself a hot chocolate and a pumpkin cake. You’re looking at the waitress as she write down the orders, and as she walks off as well, and a pulse is felt, a ringing in your ears deep as ocean, and a foul taste in your mouth as you look back at her, a closed smile on her lips, but her eyes wider than ever. "Does she look good to ya honey? Does she tickle your fancy?” You immediately reply in a nervous tone that she doesn’t. that he girl in front of you is prettier than she’ll ever be. “Good answer babe, she’s a fuckin mess compared to me, right? O’ course I’m right!” The confections both drink and dessert were served to the both of you, a second person coming to drop of the cake, it was big enough for three, but she parried your spoon away from it, claiming the whole thing hers. So the spectacle began, Her sipping the cocoa in her tall cup alongside heavy bites of this behemoth straight from a baker’s dream. It took her a mere half hour to consume the whole of it, and like a good lover you lean over with a napkin and wipe the frosting from her lips, a shy smile as your expression, your simple actions sparking a tender moment through the confusion and creeping terror in the back of your mind, and that moment was watching her cheeks flush a gorgeously vibrant shade of pink, and in that instant, everything seemed to click. She was just as nervous around you as you were around her, without the upper hand the air of danger just faded away to the dullest rhythm in the background, until her hand snapped to grip your wrist.  “Oh now I know I made the right choice… my last love ain’t never did something like this, would you believe I caught the bastard cheating on me with some tart, some junky trollop? You wouldn’t do that to me right? No… I know you wouldn’t, you’re sweet. You just want a hug, a kiss, and a kind little word whispered into your ear, yeah? You just want someone who wants you, someone that won’t make you feel like you’re just another problem to deal with. Someone like me, who won’t let you go. Who’ll never let you go. Someone like me that’ll keep loving you 'til…“, She inched in closer, "You’re…”, and her lips brushed by your ear… “Dead."  Stunned by that she shoved you back down into your seat. "What’s wrong babe? Don’t like that? Oh… you do? Well aren’t you starved for affectio- oh… So that’s why you were with the girl with the bad attitude… You know I… I watched you when you checked into the hotel, a whole week of seeing her yell at you… sayin stuff like no one would love you like her, that you were lucky she even looked at you.” She sniffled, sounding on the cusp of a rising weeping sorrow, “But it’s ok now honey. It’ll be ok, cause you have me!”, she sighed, a sort of content flow to her breath, while she relaxed in her chair, “And I have you. Were you scared of me before? I’m not sorry for that. That’s just how I am, but I won’t hurt you. Not enough to kill ya anyways. Not enough to make you hate me. I don’t think my heart could take another crack. Darling… If you left me now. I think I’d just break. We kinda just met and already I don’t think I can live without you. You can feel it too right? Our souls tyin themselves to each other? Actually ah… they’re already pretty tied up. Signed me in blood remember?” You certainly do remember, that night your finger bled and the claws creeped upon you, you remember that much and nothing more, how you felt then feels so far away now, her love is different, it’s a confusing amalgam of tenderness and terror, when once you only felt a terror from the last one you were with, but even the fear strikes you oddly, like a sickening wine who’s taste leaves you only wanting another drink of it, a long and slow swig of the emotions she has you pour from your very core, reveling in the swirling dizzy tones of this deep song she played for you with every motion she made toward, away, and around you, with every word spoken, she enthralls you. The same feeling you had when you wanted to call her, a soul bewitched by a strange woman… and whatever trance she had you in just now from her confession, lifted when you snapped back to lucidity at home.  Herself snuggled up on your lap, a horror movie playing while she smiled, your hand in hers, clutching each other warmly… a moment that your realization of the sudden shift in scenery did not ruin… she was in love, and so were you, and while love itself seems blind, love itself would blind you, and you would let it cloud your vision as long as you loved her, and as long as she loved you. This one tender moment, It’ll remain one of your greatest treasures, and as the movie ended, she sat up and stood, offering her hand to you, eyes sleepy and showing a soft joy plain as day, she led you upstairs, she led you to bed, shoes kicked off the both of you, she eased you into bed atop her, and held you close, tight, and the covers seemed to jump over you both to guard from the chill mysteriously entering the room, you closed your eyes while the pair of you turned onto your sides, and a kiss marked the occasion, brief it were on the lips, but the love? Eternal. And so it were that you slept in her arms and her in yours. Ready to give her the rest of your life. Ready to give her your very soul. and in all honesty, she already owns it.

Week 2

A Reacquaintance 

           The day I purchased Nyx, I must admit that I’d been more concerned with her beauty and my crass treatment by her seller than I’d been about whether or not the two of us would be an ideal match. What did I know of water horses then, when I’d spent my life around steeple chasers and polo ponies? What did I know of what made a capall a strong contender? What did I know of how to evaluate her potential, particularly considering I barely knew my own potential? But I’d been brash and naïve then, a few mocking comments making me hot enough under the collar that I’d removed my jackets and skirts and ridden in my bloomers that first day on the beach. I do believe people still tell that story, much to my chagrin. It all feels a world away now. My brashness and naivete have been tamped down by practicality and necessity, though perhaps my determination to race again this year says otherwise.

           But as we approach the expansive paddock, I feel the same thrill of excitement as I see Nyx’s lithe shape moving through the boundary between sunset and twilight like a graceful shadow. She really is a striking creature. Though slighter than other water horses, muscles ripple strong and smooth as she races toward the fence. Though she’s been out of the sea for a year now, her black coat still gleams wetly in the dying light of the sun. A wide white blaze running the length of her face makes her eyes stand out all the more, a blue the same shade as a perfect November sky. She is beautiful and awe-inspiring and terrifying, white teeth flashing as she tosses her head and screams toward the clouds. She comes streaking toward me, and I feel something between joy and fear that sends my heart into my throat. If I had been naïve enough to believe myself fully capable of mastering her wildness the first time I saw her, I am no longer under such illusions.

John and Gwen’s capaill are not far behind her, and they kick and nip at each other, squealing and hissing. The first time I watched this display, I’d been alarmed, sure that they were going to kill or at the very least gravely maim each other. But then, as now, Gwen and John had laughed at the violent display, assuring me that the two fight like and old married couple almost constantly, but there is no true malice in it. Taisce and Vala are their names, two powerful, beautiful creatures who pitch and rear and glare, who seem at such odds with the calm, reassuring people beside me. Gwen and John simply stand at the fence, watching and waiting, and after much fuss the dappled bay and the flaxen chestnut approach the fence, clucking softly. I watch, entranced. Turning back to Nyx, I attempt to silently communicate the same calm reassurance, but it seems I am not blessed with the same magic Gwen and John are. Nyx simply dances along the fence line a few yards away from me, eyeing me distrustfully all the while.

“Don’t worry. We’ll soon get you two reacquainted,” Gwen tells me, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. She means it kindly, of course, and I nod, but I still feel a tug of guilt in my gut as I watch Nyx keep her distance from me, knowing that it is my own fault that we have become such strangers over this past year.

Following the Races, I’d been burning with determination to do better, to be better, to prove to my family that I was more than this failure by training all the year long with Gwen so that no one could possibly challenge me on the beach. And for a short time, I acted upon this determination, riding out several times a week to hone our partnership, my control, and her speed. Pushing my disappointment into resolve, I’d trained hard, coming home with blisters on my hands, grit in my teeth, and satisfaction in my heart knowing that I was one day closer to my victory. But, as you well know, reality soon intervened in the form of my current gainful employment. I tried my best to keep up with my training those first few weeks, but it soon became very apparent that no amount of determination could magically provide me with more hours in the day. I had to choose, and though I still rode out ever now and again, my training very quickly feel to the wayside. I could count on one hand how many times I’d even been out to see Nyx since the most recent school year had begun. With such an atrocious track record, I could not blame Nyx for her distrust.

As I stand at the fence and watch her nervous display, I gather up all the guilt and regret that has been collecting dust in the back of my mind all these months, and I force their energy into determination. Into resolve. Into courage. There is no use in dwelling on what I could or should have done. There is only here and now, and this opportunity in front of me to begin again. We all deserve that, don’t we? A second chance? It is this gift that I can give to both myself and to Nyx, and I must seize it with both hands. I have not done all I can in the past. That changes tonight. It will not be easy, and I will need all the strength I can manage, but this is our chance. This is our year. I cannot guarantee that we will win, but I can guarantee that when I cross the finish line, I will have done all I can, and that will be enough.

Humans  are Space Orcs “Lions and Tigers and Bears.”

I’m trying to do writings that cater to what everyone wants. Some will be stories some will be short report style, and I might try other styles upon  request if you have an interesting idea.

Also a note, I love comments, questions, messages, and anything else you can think of. If you want to draw something, you don’t need to ask. Just do it, I would love to see what you come up with. :)

We used to think that humans were apex predators, and I suppose we weren’t wrong. Compared to the rest of the galaxy, humans are an amalgamation of teeth, claws, and the nightmares of our children, but on their own planet, humans have only survived based on their guile and pack bonding instincts. They keep animals in their home that could rip them apart if they were so inclined.

If this wasn’t enough, the humans are intent on keeping their natural predators alive despite a period of mass extinction that followed the rise of human domination. For years they have, captured, hunted, protected, and fought for the lives of creatures that would happily rip them apart.

No one really understands it, but the humans are desperate to keep these creatures alive.

Because humans can’t just pack bond with themselves, they have to pack bond with their entire planet and everything on it.

***

“So what is this place supposed to be?” Krill wondered scuttling along at Captain Vir’s feet glancing upwards at the massive gated archway.

“It’s a zoo…. Or technically it’s a nature preserve, I guess.”

“What is…. A Zoo.”

“You’ll see.”

He stopped at the counter and passed his arm under a chip reader. Krill crossed his two sets of arms, a habit that he had picked up from the humans.

“You understand you say that a lot, and I never appreciate when you do.”

“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe.”

“You say that a lot too.”

“Well this time I really mean it.”

Krill sighed, but kept at Vir’s feet as they passed through the doors and into the park.

His first impression was stepping onto another world. One that was confused and didn’t particularly know what it was doing… so earth, but condensed. Hundreds of large enclosures dotted the intervening space all boasting complex contained ecosystems. A tiny slice of ocean rolled and sloshed inside one of these massive containers, while another showed the burning sand of a windswept dessert. A Burst of orange sand was kicked up into the air and swirled slowly around. The ground shifted creating a new landscape as they watched.

“Pretty cool huh, they didn’t used to do that, but now they keep tings changing to make the animals more comfortable.

“Animals?” Krill wondered nervously.

“Yep, animals.” Captain Vir responded making his way over to one of the enclosures, “It’s time you got to see a real predator.”

Then entered a crowd staring up at one of the enclosures, and a woman wearing a green vest standing atop it. The invisible force-shield glinted blue under her feet. Otherwise it would have appeared that she was just standing on air.

Below her, a massive creature prowled, pacing back and forth muscle rolling and churning under its orange and black striped hide. Massive claws glinted at its feet. Snarling, the animal showed huge glittering teeth. Krill stepped back.

“The world record for the Olympic high jump is somewhere in the ballpark of eight feet.” The woman was saying, “But the Tiger, can easily jump an astonishing twelve feet. Two men stacked on top of each other, or even onto the roof of your house.” As If in response to her words, the huge creature sprung from the ground flying through the air to snatch a piece of meat dangling from the ceiling. Its teeth glinted, as it ripped the chunk in half turning its head back to swallow, “He can bite with a force averaging 1,000 pounds of pressure per square inch.”

Vir chuckled, “Damn those things are cool, scary as hell though.” At his side Waffles, the dog, sniffed the ground licking up a stray bit of popcorn.

Krill couldn’t help but glance at the animal and her glittering teeth. Were humans stupid? He had a 100 pound predator on a leash right now, and did it bother him, no.

Then again, the tiger was significantly bigger. It ripped another chunk from the meat

Krill didn’t like this place, so he pulled the captain away and into the crowd.

That wasn’t a great idea, since he suddenly came face to face with a reptilian head….. One with no limbs, and to his horror, the creature lifted itself upwards to stare him in the eye. As if this couldn’t get more horrifying, the death noodle unhinged its jaw and hissed at him showing a massive set of fangs. He leaped back in fear caught by Captain Vir, “Mmm a cobra, they use neurotoxin you know. One bite is potent enough to kill 20 people.”

Krill stared at him incredulous, “And you still want to STAY on this planet?”

He laughed as if he was a joke and not a question.

The cobra lowered its head slithering away like a ribbon of death’s cloak.

Krill detested almost every moment of this place, the giant death fish called a shark that could practically bite a human in half, and hid within the depths of the earth’s ocean just waiting to strike fear into the hearts of men…. Which, he was reminded, took up about 2/3s of the globe

He hated the furry doom that looked sort of like a fat dog, but was, in fact, 12 feet tall could and would maul you to death, when it wasn’t sleeping all winter to protect itself from starvation at the behest of harsh winters.

Even though the stripy hallucination ponies weren’t all that scary, he wasn’t sure how he felt about their use of black and white stripes to confuse predators in large numbers. It seemed like an animal who used a mild acid trip to confuse predators wouldn’t really be worth hunting.

Then there were the tall spotted ponies who used their heads to beat each other to death because none of the human animals could be normal, no, not one. If you didn’t have death noodles, you had psychedelic ponies and neck fighting.

Oh and let’s not forget the thousands of varieties of tiny flying dinosaurs that were known for carrying diseases and feeding on the carcasses of the dead, and some of them weren’t even all that tiny. The big knife-face bird with the white and brown feathers had a wingspan nearly eight feet wide, and had the ability to chuck goats off cliffs.

The actual F***k.

There was also the stabby-tree head pony (a few varieties of these actually) hunted by humans often, but they used their tree horns to stab each other, because why the hell not. Oh and they had also been known to stomple on humans till death.

Because even the prey animals can kill you on this planet.

Don’t forget the giant bacteria lizard whose bight does not kill you because it is poisonous, but because its mouth is such a nasty place that you will grow infected ad die slowly. Incidentally, humans are the komodo dragons of the universe.

Captain Vir’s favorite animal wasn’t really surprising. The pack of fluffy grey dogs are apparently the ancestors of the domestic dog, and seeing them did not help Krill’s anxiety, because apparently they kill by going after a single beast, and chasing it to death using rather complex team working tactics to do so. One grabs the things legs, than the other tries to rip its throat out.

Captain Vir was best friends with an animal that could easily rip his throat out.

Apparently human had become friends with the wolf thousands of years ago because some idiot human thought it would be a good idea to be friends with something that wanted to eat his face.

***

Everything on this godforsaken planet can kill a human. You thought humans were indestructible, no, no they are not. Just as a small list of things that can happen to a human on their own planet (a planet which they love I might add), limbs ripped off, stompled to death, bitten in half, poisoned, eaten, ripped open, gored, suffocated, infected, diseased, pushed off a cliff, drowned, and that isn’t even a comprehensive list.

The most dangerous place in the galaxy for humans is their own planet, and they love it. They love it so much that they protect the very predators that would like to have them for a snack. And may I reiterate that they keep these animals in their houses, cuddle with them, pet them, and name them cutesy furry names like pickles, fee fee, or Senior Wobbles.

Personally, I would never keep something in my home that could easily eat my face off. Seems like an obvious desire, but apparently not….

Not to mention the embarrassment of having to explain how you got your face eaten open by Mr McDoodle Cuddlebun the fifth, but I digress there is no convincing you people.

Pony of Shadows AU

Long ago, before Celestia and Luna protected Equestria. It was their mentor Starswirl The Bearded and The Pillars of Equestria, that protected pony kind. Assembled together by one unicorn named Stygian, the group kept forces at bay that would otherwise terrorize pony kind as years went by Stygian felt left in the background never noticed for anything. One night Stygian would gather the items that symbolized the Pillars' power to become powerful himself. Coming to a misunderstanding with them, Starswirl cast Stygian out. Years went by as Stygian would return only to release the shadows that welcomed him now known as the Pony of Shadows he would terrorize the lands twisting ponies and creatures alike to darkness and shadow. Seeing no other way to end the conflict, Starswirl and the Pillars sought to seal away the Pony of Shadows and devised a way to send them and him to limbo, thus rendering Equestria safe from his power. Gathered at ponhenge, they prepared to cast the spell by the Pony of Shadows, overpowered them, and killed them all. With nothing standing in his way, he rallied his forces of darkness and shadow, leading a conquest across Equestria. Eventually slaying both Celestia and Luna, who led an army against him and finally with nothing standing in his way. The Pony of Shadows took the throne and became Emperor of Equestria from then on. All this taking part in far past when Starswirl and the Pillars were defending Equestria and Celestia and Luna were not even remotely as strong as they are now.

Ruling over Equestria was, of course, not gonna be comfortable if his new subjects did not accept his rule. Within the few first years of his rule, Stygian was met with numerous rebellions most, if not all, of them vastly unorganized and divided in their ideals and ends goals. This led to their natural downfall against Stygians forces. As to avoid more pointless rebellions against him, he scoured for all known forms of history about The Pillars of Equestria or the alicorn Princesses Celestia and Luna. Once gathered, he made use of the remaining power that dwelled within the items once used by the Pillars along with the powers of the Well of Shade and the alicorn magic he drained from the two princesses he slew. With these powers combined, he cast a massive spell upon the gathered histories erasing all fragments of memory from Equestria related to any form of rulership before his own, The alicorn princesses, and the Pillars. This spell would leave him quite drained and weakened for the next decade but would grant his rulership the breathing room it needed to expand. Over the next decade itself, he would implement new laws, policies, and such that improved relations between the three pony tribes to the point Stygians unified empire began to flourish and prosper. All the while, his vast power and strength returned to him enough so that he made more public appearances in different ways to instill equal measures of both fear and loyalty. His Empire would face many outside threats from both dragons, griffons, and other non-ponies. All would be crushed as the borders of his new Empire became secured and well defined.

Within the next couple of decades going by smoothly for his rule over Equestria, Emperor Stygian had gathered many artifacts and relics of high magical power for his vast experiments and research to what ends no one knew of but him. As the centuries advanced, so did the Equestrian Empire with significant developments in magical and technological designs. This brought on envious eyes and invasions from other species bordering Equestria chiefly the Dragons and Griffons, who sought to conquer the Empire for its riches and massive landholdings. Without hesitating, Emperor Stygian proceeded to mobilize his armies. Still, he would not risk any of their lives without attempting diplomacy with both species with the ideas in mind that at least one side would agree to a peace treaty. After a long week of talks and meeting with griffon nobles, Emperor Stygian had signed a peace accord and trade agreement with them while gaining an ally or pawn against other species that sought to conquer his Empire. Turning his attention to the dragons, he met with them in good faith, and the talks ended in a war being declared by the short-tempered dragons. Knowing this would be a likely outcome with them, Stygian ordered vital strikes on dragon controlled areas that he had scouted before the talks had even taken place. Risking as little as possible, the Emperor assumed his pure shadowy form and took to the skies battling dragons in blows of fire and shadow magic. Felling, many of the hordes Stygian led his forces deep into the Dragonlands until Stygian himself confronted the Dragonlord of that time. Refusing to surrender even when offered peace once more by the shadowy Emperor. The two rulers clashed blows of both magic and flame coming to a stalemate with Stygian himself holding back having his own plans for doing so. After they reached this stalemate, the Dragonlord commended the pony for lasting long against him. Earning his respect, he and Stygian agreed to a peace accord and alliance between Equestria and the Dragonlands for centuries to come. Gaining allies of both the griffons and dragons, Emperor Stygian saw his Empire only prosper and expand more as the next centuries went by into more modern Equestria.

During the new centuries, Stygian would become aware of the emergence of a powerful pony who he would learn embodied love as an alicorn princess; her name was Cadance. Rushing to take this pony under his shadowy guidance Emperor Stygian would ensure she would be a capable ruler and loyal to him as his adoptive daughter. Over the years he would begin to care for her and see her potential grow even more to this end, Stygian would place the vassal state of the Crystal Empire under the rule of Cadance as a form of test to prove her capability to rule. So that she may guard the Crystal Heart relic he had hidden from the world for reasons unknown. Cadance would be charged with harnessing the heart's power, forging a secure connection over the next few years. As Equestria began to modernize, building more cities and the like Emperor Stygian would take pride in what his empire had become in the long centuries, he had already ruled over them. The shadowy ruler would shift his focus over to his highly secretive magical research to what ends he wished to reach was any ponies guess. In the years to follow, Stygian would begin visiting the institutions for magical education he had created more often under the guise of inspiring the younger generations. In truth, he was seeking a pony that he could mold into a capable and potential successor to his empire should he ever decide to cast off the throne for higher goals. This search would end with him witnessing the feats of magic performed by the aspiring unicorn Twilight Sparkle who was also a new student to his Academy of Advanced Magic. Taking her under his wing and guidance in the magical arts, Emperor Stygian had sensed the power that slept deeply dormant in Twilight. He wished to nurture her growing magical ability, believing her to play a significant role in the future of his empire.

With his gaze focused upon magical research and collecting old and powerful arcane artifacts, Emperor Stygian would soon deem it necessary to have scribe by his side during his journeys into ancient ruins and long-forgotten places so that every finding could be adequately documented. To this end, he would seek out and appoint a pegasus named Polaroid Daffodil Shlafrock, renowned for his photography and photographic memory. Stygian would be slow to trust his new scribe, only allowing him to document and photograph relics that Stygian himself had brought back from the places he visited. Eventually, though, the shadowy ruler began to feel a sense of trust emerge and decided to bring Polaroid along with him to a newly discovered ruin that held a powerful amulet Stygian sought to possess. Through the exploration of the ruined location, Stygian would elect to keep the pegasus cloaked in his shadowy magical wings throughout the trap lined hallways and corridors not out of concern for him but merely keeping a useful tool alive. As they reached the artifact room, Emperor Stygian partook of the amulet as they departed from the area Stygian decided there that Polaroid may continue to journey with him into ancient and forgotten structures. As the months went by, Stygian would begin to notice a change in how his scribe looked at and spoke to him at first. The Emperor disregarded this as a simple star-struck crush on the pegasus's end. But soon began to see this was not the truth Stygian started to take an interest in Polaroid himself to the point the unicorn would extend the pegasus a dinner invitation to be not surprised at its acceptance. That night Stygian would personally cook a small but elegant meal for the two with candles lit to greet his dinner guest. As the night proceeded and starlight filled the skies, Emperor Stygian would surprise Polaroid by pulling him into his hooves and dancing slowly as the unicorn dimmed the candles to more romantic lighting. As the dance ended, Stygian would gaze out to the balcony and see the full moon he grinned as he and Polaroid would step outside for some fresh air. Keeping his grin up, Stygian would spring forth his dark wings and sweep up the other into his embrace and proceed to go forth on a smooth flight through the night sky. As the night would begin to draw to a close, Emperor Stygian would plant a kiss upon the other's lips, thus starting his relationship with the pegasus Polaroid.

The romance between Emperor Stygian and Polaroid would burn slowly over the next year with Stygian beginning to feel a sense of the emotions he had lost so long ago, namely feelings of love and care towards the pegasus. Eventually, the shadowy ruler would gather his court and announce his relationship with Roi, stating he would be shown the same respect they'd give Stygian himself. Spending more time together, the unicorn would show many hidden and beautiful places Stygian had kept protected from the modernizing of Equestria. During one of their visits to a particular hidden patch of nature that Polaroid would bring up concerns of eventually passing away as Stygian would live on forever. Deciding this would be the perfect time to show the pegasus Stygian would lead Polaroid to his hidden sanctum that held the Well of Shade the very source that made Stygian into what he is now. Revealing the secrets of his power and how the Well works, Stygian professed that Roi could embrace the shadows and be together for eternity with Stygian. Agreeing to give him time to think it over, Stygian reassures Roi that whatever he decides, he would love him forever. Within the next week, Roi would choose to embrace eternity with Emperor Stygian and, together, standing before the Well of Shade Stygian first would descend into the dark waters as the dark energies rippled sending specks of shadows splashing into the air. With his hoof extended, Stygian would gently guide Roi into the Well and embrace him as he submerged the two of them below the dark liquid's surface. Within hours Stygian would spring forth from the wells waters with his love cradled in his hooves Stygians mane now drenched and damp. He smiled and kissed Roi, professing that he would love him for eternity. For the next few months, Stygian would guide Roi into understanding his new state of being. To be able to harness the shadows that are now part of him; eventually, Emperor Stygian would assemble his court and top advisors. He would announce his plans to marry Polaroid much to the surprise of Roi himself, who failed to hide his joy and embarrassment all the same. Within a month, a small but elegant ceremony was held within the grand ballroom where Equestria greeted and celebrated their new Emperor Polaroid and husband to Emperor Stygian.

Soon as the years went by, Emperor Stygian soon started to show more levels of real emotions. This was attributed to his love for Roi sparking other long-dead emotions to resurface once more. He would show this by actually attending more courtly affairs and showing levels of care and kindness to his subjects more often. During one of their visits down into the capital city’s common and lower districts to which Emperor Roi had ‘Talked’ Stygian into doing the pair would come across a small orphanage. Going inside to check on the young foals of the Empire, Stygian would offer warm smiles and gentle words as he allowed the younglings to climb upon him as he would offer to read a story or two them as to give the staff a break for a while. Seeing his love being something of a natural father-like figure to these young ones, Roi would once they were back at the palace would pop the question and talk about his desire to have a child one day. Thrown off by this topic, the unicorn ruler would express his doubts at being a good father. He would put aside the subject from his mind for the next week until coming to his love and discussing his doubts further being primarily attributed to the sins and actions Stygian had commented in the past and how unworthy Stygian himself felt at ever becoming a father. Being Reassured by Roi and embraced for the longest time, Stygian would proceed to seclude himself within his private study for a week, at least turning away visitors and placing all elegant affairs in Roi’s care for a while. As the week let up, the unicorn would emerge and proceed to his love with the news and whisper it forth in his ear, resulting in Stygian being tackled and snuggled up to for a good while. Having prepared everything personally for the ritual helps them create a child of their own, but Stygian has tweaked it a bit so that the ceremony would take decent more energy from him in fueling the magic. Proceeding with the spell, the two Emperors would call forth the powers of the Well of Shade the dark magic would begin to spark about and call forth pure magic from the air that would then mix with the shadows as it drew upon the energy from the two. In a flash of light, a small foal would begin to gently come to the ground as Stygian himself would faint, having been left drained from the process. This resulted in him being bedridden for the next month to regain his strength often so he would have their new child who was named Lilim snuggled up to him.

Soon as the two fathers watched their daughter grow into a strong and capable young pony. Stygian would express the idea of them having another daughter so that Lilim would not be alone in the world as she grew older. Overjoyed at this fact Stygian would prep the Well of Shade and ritual he had worked more to perfect in lowering the level of risk to himself or Roi. That very night after putting young Lilim to rest. Stygian would light the candles and summon forth the energies of the Well and lock hooves with his love Roi. Channeling equal amounts of energy together the shadowy ponies would meld pure magic and shadows together and bring forth another daughter from the miracle the Well of Shade provided. Cradling the newborn foal in his hooves Stygian would wrap her in his cloak and reveal to Roi that she would remain a pegasus but able to harness the shadows in due time and dedication to training. Roi would embrace both Stygian and their new daughter and speak her name with passion "Milim" he cried as tears of joy rolled to which Stygian nodded and held him close showing he loved the name he picked for their new daughter Milim. 

1st place prize commission for @zaylent (still don’t know why it won’t let me tag you)

This took a while, and I’m sorry about that, but after this, I’ll make a start on the 2nd and 3rd place pieces!

Word count: 4333

Under the cut for length!

【Chance and Oranges】

How much longer were you meant to tolerate this? You’re a person, your own person- and yet, your parents treat you like some sort of show pony, constantly expecting optimal results with nothing in return.

It was clear now, why Fugo seemed to be so deep in despair. Was he still like that now? Perhaps not, after all, the last you saw of him was when his parents shipped him away to the university.

Enough was enough, and without so much as a good bye, you stormed out of the large you had shared with your parents for so long, making your own way into the big wide world, determined to make it your bitch.

The problem was, where did you start? It was hard to pay attention to anyone or anything as you wandered around the streets of Naples -despair ridden and in a haze.

“Hey, watch where you’re-,” you’d barely noticed the bump when you collided with a passer-by. It did strike you as a little odd that he suddenly stopped talking, until you looked up to meet with a familiar purple gaze.

It had been so long since you saw him, you didn’t recognise your former friend until he called out your name. It was a nice face to see, and you could hardly stop yourself from hugging onto him tightly, letting your tears soak into his jacket while speaking through sobs, “Fugo, I missed you so much.”

He was embarrassed by it, though he’s willing to let it slide, just this once; while glaring at people that dare to look, telling them to, ”Keep moving and look elsewhere,” all without having to open his mouth.

He finds it easier to keep a conversation going whilst on the move, inviting you to chat and catch up while walking the familiar stone streets towards a restaurant where he offered to treat you to a meal, and see if his friend would be as willing to help you out as he was with him.

Fugo paused for a moment, watching a young woman in front of him gaze sadly into the alleyway, and make a comment about what she saw. You couldn’t quite hear what had been said, but Fugo could. As soon as the woman moved, he went to investigate on his own terms – with you trailing behind.

It came as a shock to you, as it would anyone. Except of course someone like Fugo who was numb to the cruelties of this world by now. Seeing a filthy child digging through trash for a meal was heart-breaking. He looked frail, and despite the dark alley way, the bandage wrapped around his head was noticeable.

Fugo didn’t utter a word to you, he didn’t really need to though, you could tell what he was thinking, watching as he slowly, but casually approached the child, trying not to startle him.

“If you’re hungry, why don’t you come with me?” the boy was quick to turn towards Fugo’s voice, the fear in his exposed eye being visible - almost haunting.

He didn’t move closer to Fugo, nor did he back-away. The offer seemed almost too good to be true, though as you began to approach the two, he seemed a lot less apprehensive when gazing at you.

You didn’t say anything to him, hoping the smile on your face would speak for you, despite the urchin looking back over to the trash can, unsure if the offer was genuine.

Despite Fugo’s patient smile, you knew all too well that eventually, his patience would wear thin, and he’d give up, leaving it up to you to take-action before that happened.

Reaching your hands, you took the boy’s slightly larger - yet skinnier ones into your own, “Come on, it’ll be okay, everyone deserves to have a hot meal,” was your line that convinced him, though you didn’t dare let go of his hand as you led him to the restaurant; following close behind Fugo.

The interior and atmosphere were cosy; not too busy, and the few customers that were there took no notice of you regardless. Not that it eased your own anxiety or the boy whose hand you were still holding onto to for that matter. He even squeezed it a little just for reassurance.

Fugo led you deep into the restaurant - his lack of verbal communication making you feel more tense, especially with how fast this all seemed to be going. It felt surreal, then horrifying when you realized you had no idea who, or what awaited you in the private booth Fugo stopped at.

It was time, he quickly adjusted his attire, fixing up his jacket and dusting off any debris before making his grand appearance. You took the initiative, and followed behind him, keeping the boy tucked up safe behind you.

“I’d like to feed these two some spaghetti! If you don’t mind!” Fugo bellowed as he introduced the two of you to his boss; a rather handsome and kind looking man. If Fugo could trust him, you were certain you could too.

He didn’t speak, though his eyes seemed to fall onto the boy behind you. He offered the rather delicious looking meal he’d ordered for himself, not saying whom he intended it for, though you encouraged the urchin to take it and enjoy it.

“Buccellati, I’d like to speak to you in private,” Fugo announced, ushering for the kind looking man to follow him. You could only guess at what their conversation was about, though looking at the situation it was rather obvious.

“So, what’s your name anyway?” curiosity had finally got the best of you, pulling a chair out to sit down next to the boy who came to a halt, trying to swallow his food faster so he could speak.

“Narancia,” he mumbled, so much so that you almost missed it entirely, “I’m (Y/N), pleased to meet you,” you beamed back at him, in hopes that maybe it would lift the mood.

For a moment, it seemed successful as a small smile tugged at his lips, until his attention fell back onto the plate of food before him, as he continued to scarf it down, fearful that it would perhaps be taken away from him if he didn’t eat it quick enough.

Narancia finished his meal long before Buccellati and Fugo came back and seemed to be thinking of leaving and perhaps going back to the alley. The only thing that stopped him was the lack of energy, all his strength being sapped to try and fight against the infection; he was at his limit.

His hearing seemed to be rather sharp however, reacting to the sound of Fugo’s footsteps before even you did, though his reaction was weakly turning to look at the doorway as Fugo made his way in, “I’m sorry, (Y/N), I forgot to ask, did you want something to eat? Buccellati’s on the phone so I figured I should ask you now.”

You only shook your head in response, though your focus had remained solely on Narancia, as his visible eye was starting to close, with his breathing quickly becoming unsteady. Fugo stepped forward, wondering if perhaps there was something he could do, though despite grasping at his thoughts, everything slipped away from him in worry.

As if right on cue, Buccellati finally returned to offer some sort of relief, being the responsible adult in the situation, “Have you finished your meal? There’s a taxi waiting outside,” he said, in a very matter of fact way.

One could only wonder where that taxi was destined to go, though even with Fugo trying to protest that you stayed behind, something inside you refused to leave the boy that needed you more. You knew he’d be in safe hands with Buccellati, but the feeling that you needed to go with him pushed you even more.

Fugo had to admit defeat, with Buccellati being rather pleased by your determination and overall passion and concern for a mere stranger. He led the two of you out of the restaurant through a back door, where a rather smart looking taxi was waiting.

Buccellati sat up front, “The hospital, please,” he was sharp, but still polite, though you had more of a job trying to conceive Narancia to get into the car. He had convinced himself that there had to be an ulterior motive, that strangers were never this kind, “Narancia, it’s okay, I’m here,” you spoke softly to him, hoping that your kind and reassuring smile would say the rest for you.

He took a chance, and allowed himself to trust your smile, using that trust as the last bit of strength he needed to move his body into the taxi, shifting over towards the far side to give room for you slide in next to him. Bruno checked over on the two of you, though mostly to see how Narancia was holding up; as it happened, not too well.

As soon as the car started moving, Narancia slowly moved himself closer towards you, feeling like you were truly the only one he was safe beside. He was still seemed reluctant, but when you smiled at him again and gave him a nod, he was once again reassured and allowed himself to rest against you.

Now he was close to you, you could feel the heat radiating from him. You could tell his face was clearly flushed from fever by simply looking at him, though up close, the heat from his head was unbearable for you to feel from contact alone, you couldn’t bear to think about how it must feel for him.

The ride to the hospital was a short, but quiet one, though Narancia was asleep for the duration, awaking only when you stirred in preparation to exit the taxi – feeling the anxiety begin to stir within him as soon as he saw where the taxi had stopped at. He had figured this was where you were headed, even before he heard Buccellati to the driver.

Buccellati had left the taxi first, making his way to your side to open the door, and give you some assistance should you have needed it, “Are you two ready?” he asked, his voice was as soft as he looked, especially when he held his hand out to you.

You took it and slowly stepped out of the taxi, though Narancia stayed put, quivering while he stared up at Buccellati, “What, what are they going to do to me?” he whimpered out, “They can’t help me,” he said quietly, trying to avoid eye contact.

“They can, and they will help you. I’ll personally make sure of it,” Buccellati lowered himself to Narancia’s level, gently brushing away the small tears forming in the corner of his eye, “I know you’re scared, but it’s okay,” his words seem to have gotten through, as Narancia slowly tried to exit the vehicle, Buccellati standing back just a bit.

It was a good he stood back too, Narancia barely took two paces before collapsing against Buccellati’s chest. The man sighed with relief, knowing that it would perhaps be far easier this way as he scooped the small boy in his arms, carrying him through the doors with you jogging a little to catch up.

The waiting room was surprisingly quiet and barren, though the few patients that were there didn’t seem to have any qualms about the nurses getting Buccellati straight through with the child in his arms, you could hear some of them whispering their worry to one another.

Buccellati was told where he needed to go and followed the directions the nurse gave him by following the pristine hallways to a room where another nurse would be able to help while she returned to her own station.

The walk was silent at first, with Narancia having lost consciousness, and Buccellati not feeling the need to speak – it was up to you to break the silence, “Is he really going to be okay?” you reached out to grab his immaculate coat, stopping him in his tracks for a moment or two.

You were concerned, and wanted some reassurance of your own before continuing further down, “I’m not a doctor, and even I cant say for certain, but, the sooner he can get treatment, the better his chances are,” Buccellati turned to give you a small smile, and you put faith in his words, speeding up and trying to get him to hurry.

The room the three of you ended up in was on the small side, with one stretcher, and two chairs that had been left, one of which you assumed was for the doctor. Buccellati softly set Narancia down on what would be his makeshift bed, “Wait with him, I’ll go look for someone,” he instructed you as he quietly left the room.

Narancia’s breathing grew harsh, and you took hold of his hand, gently rubbing your thumb over the back of it in an attempt to soothe and comfort him, though truthfully, you didn’t know what to do, or even if what you were doing was even remotely helping him.

Buccellati wasn’t gone too long, the rattling of a trolley and another pair of lighter footsteps. You knew it would be best to move aside as the nurse came in, wasting no time in taking bloods, and hooking Narancia up to an IV with antibiotics and fluids. He reacted to the sharp pain of the needles, letting out a soft whimper and shutting his eye tighter to subconsciously stop the pain.

The nurse removed the hastily done bandage job to get a better look at his eye, and it was just as awful you have imagined; red, swollen, and shut tight as it seemed almost impossible to open. When the nurse touched it, Narancia’s body jumped and he cried out from the pain. It was hard to watch, and even the seemingly stoic man beside you was a bit unnerved by it, going as far as to place his hands on your shoulders and pull you away so you didn’t have to see.

The nurse left the room to attend to other patients, and Buccellati forced you to sit, and leave Narancia be for the time being, though when peeped around the corner to see what was going on, nothing was stopping you from seeing to the boy yourself.

You may have only met a short while ago, and wouldn’t have even met at all if not for Fugo’s kindness, but you felt attached to this boy, and wanted to do anything and everything you could for him, but at the moment, all you could do was be there for him best you could.

Before you had the chance to get back up to him, a doctor dashed in, unemotionally ignoring both you and Buccellati as he seemed to have blinders on – able to see only his patient. You watched the doctor examine him, trying to be careful as to not hurt him, and apologising profusely when Narancia showed any indication of being in pain.

Once done with his own examination, he turned to Buccellati, switching off his blinders for a moment to say, “I assume you’re the adult here? He needs surgery on his eye, and I can’t do much else without your consent.”

It was a shock to hear, and you began to feel a knot of worry tighten in your stomach, though while he was trying to explain to Narancia what was happening and would be happening, he encouraged you to listen to try and ease your worry, though it didn’t do too much good for you or Narancia.

Once Buccellati had signed all the necessary forms, Narancia was wheeled away without you being able to say much to him, especially as you were pushed into a waiting room with your current legal guardian to wait for the surgery to be over.

It was nerve wracking, to wait, yet the man with you remained still, eyes closed as he waited for it to be over. It seemed like he had been through this a few times before, but you couldn’t quite understand how he could possible be so calm, “Pacing around, and panicking wont do you any good, the surgery wont be over any quicker, so you may as well sit back, and wait with me,” he said bluntly, almost as if he was reading your mind.

You did as you were told, sitting back down the chair next to him to wait for perhaps a few minutes you thought, even as your eyes began to grow increasingly heavy, and your own body impulsively began to collapse against the man beside you. Despite the sudden extra weight of your body being added, he didn’t stir, or even seem to mind too much.

You were blissfully unaware that a few hours had gone by when the surgeon came out to tell you how Narancia was and what happened. It was rather hard to keep up, feeling groggy as tiredness continued to wash over, making your eyes go funny and see double of everything; at one point you thought that perhaps you were hallucinating when you thought you saw Fugo, but he had quietly slipped in while you were taking a nap.

“It went great, and he’s in recovery. We’ll keep him here for a while and continue giving him antibiotics and nutrients through a drip, but other than that, you’ll be free to visit him soon,” the surgeon seemed rather pleased to report some good news, and a wave of solace washed over you as after hearing what he had to say.

With it being rather late, the surgeon dismissed you, telling you all that visiting him tomorrow would be better so Narancia could get some rest. You still felt guilty about leaving him, but so long as someone would tell him you’d be there to visit him tomorrow, you felt content with leaving.

For the night, you hadn’t given much thought as to where you would go or even sleep. Your day had been rather chaotic, giving you little time to ponder such thoughts. Luckily, Fugo was kind enough to come to your aid, offering you a spot on his sofa for as long as you should need it, which you were appreciative of, and gladly accepted.

His apartment wasn’t all that big; one-bedroom, small kitchen, bathroom and living room, but it was cheap, and cosy, “Well, make yourself at home,” he said, half-jokingly, “Don’t mind if I do!” you chirped, sitting yourself down on his sofa.

It was softer that you expected. The blanket draped over it was soft to the touch with an impressive array of colours, and you easily sunk into the soft cushions of the settee, “You need to eat something, so help yourself to any snacks,” Fugo yawned after he spoke, clearly ready to dive into his bed for a good night sleep.

“Say, Fugo, what’ll happen to Narancia after he gets better?” Fugo didn’t know how best to answer your question, though the same could be said about you right? As nice as it would be, you can’t stay on Fugo’s sofa for the rest of your life.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Buccellati with figure something out,” Fugo turned to you and smiled, “And as for you, I’m sure there may be a place for you on our team, should you want it,” Fugo turned back, facing the hallway towards his bedroom.

“Well, goodnight, (Y/N),” he yawned out, slowly making his way over to his room, leaving both you and the conversation until the morning. Once he was gone, you sighed to yourself and rolled over to get comfortable, wrapping the blanket around yourself like a burrito, and drifting away to sleep.

You awoke far earlier than you expected, but with Fugo being up at the crack of dawn and cooking breakfast, it wasn’t easy to continue sleeping and enjoy the pleasant dream you were having. Sitting up, you took in the delicious smell, though after not eating for so long, Fugo could be cooking pure garbage and it would still be good.

You enjoyed the fresh plate of pancakes he made for you, and after discussing your plans for the day, you hurried out of the apartment, making sure to stop by the market on your way to buy some fresh oranges for Narancia.

When you finally got there and were given directions to his ward, you raced over to see him, though Buccellati had already beaten you to it, watching over Narancia’s bedside like a guardian angel.

“He’s doing well today,” Buccellati turned to face you, “I can leave him in your hands now, I have to go back to work,” he was a man a few words to be sure, but his words were at least comforting, and just like that, he left Narancia in your capable hands.

He was still asleep, but seeing his chest slowly rise and fall was a good sign, and you relaxed into the chair beside his bed, reaching out to take his hand into your own, “I’m here now, Narancia,” you whispered to him, lightly rubbing your thumb over the top of his hand.

“I figured you would be,” he mumbled in response, slowly wrapping his hand around your own. His voice was groggy, and movements were slow; probably in part due to the anaesthesia still wearing off, but hearing his voice was beautiful, no matter how rough he sounded.

He didn’t do much for the first few days he was in hospital. Often just sleeping as his body continued to fight the remaining infection, and also due to boredom as he wasn’t able to see or do much, until you or Buccellati came by.

Despite Buccellati being a man of few words, he would frequently visit Narancia – more so just to check how he was doing and once to bring him a personal CD player with headphones to keep him amused.

When you came to visit, Narancia perked up quite a bit, and enjoyed the talks he had with you, and was happy that you were able to take him for a small walk outside to the hospital garden and enjoy the fresh air. He even allowed you feed him slices of the oranges you brought to him, though you lived more for the chats the two of you had.

You found the two of you had more in common than you had previously thought. It started when you got curious of what music CDs he had, and then it developed into sitting side-by-side to listen to them and enjoy them together. Once or twice, Buccellati had come to visit Narancia himself, but saw you two and left with a smile on his face.

The three weeks Narancia was forced to endure in the loathsome hospital was a lot more bearable thanks to your and Buccellati’s efforts – despite the latter using his time to deter Narancia, trying to convince him to take a different path in life; going back home and to school.

Despite Buccellati’s efforts, Narancia often talked about joining a gang with you, which you greatly agreed with, and made sure to keep it a secret from Fugo and Buccellati, knowing full well the former would tell the later and ruin your plans entirely.

You and Narancia were successful, and able to join the gang together, though the problem arose only when you were put on Buccellati’s team; whom was certainly not amused to see you two standing before him as new members of his team, and as stand users.

Your leader was reluctant was send his rookies out on missions alone together, instead pairing you up with Fugo, which wasn’t the end of the world, but you’d rather be with Narancia; the two of you had become inseparable over the short time since your chance encounter. You grew closer each day, and inevitably, you began to fall for him, hard.

Unfortunately for you, Narancia was pretty dense, being unable to pick up on subtle hints you dropped him regarding your feelings. There was a silver lining for you of course, that being, Fugo – who had picked up on the hints you had dropped to Narancia a few times.

He waited until the two of you were alone, coming back from another successful mission, “You may as well tell him straight how you feel,” he was so casual with how he said it, you were caught completely off-guard, trying to avoid eye contact while you formed a sentence together in your mind.

“He feels the same way, he told me so in a few words, though he’s just too shy and awkward to say anything to you,” Fugo continued. It was nice to hear your feelings were returned, despite the problem you were both having - confessing, keeping yourselves in a stalemate. You continued to look at him, dumbfounded, forcing him to again break the silence, “I’ll help you, don’t worry,” Fugo smiled at you, giving your shoulder a light pat.

Fugo’s job certainly wasn’t made easy. It was almost painful to watch you try and flirt with oblivious boy. Buccellati had even twigged by now that something was up, especially since Fugo looked ready to erupt at any moment; visibly twitching while trying his best not to scream, though he wasn’t successful, “Will you two just confess?!” he yelled at you two, making you both jump, even Buccellati was woken up by the sudden outburst.

It was an awkward few moments while Fugo tried to apologize to you as Narancia began to yell and flip out a little bit, though it was hard to look cool while he was blushing and stuttering because of your not so great wingman.

Once the atmosphere calmed down, Narancia lowered his head, muttering to you, “Do you, really feel the same way?” you moved your chair closer to him, “I do, Narancia.”

Imagine being stuck on a strange planet with Loki;

part: part 1 | part 2 |

a/n; this is my first time writing for Loki so please beware. I don’t want to say this is in an au but it is definitely not 100% the same. Basically Thanos hasn’t won yet and Loki isn’t dead

fandom; Marvel

pairing; Loki x Reader

warnings; “sexual” situations, unsexual unwanted touching

tags; please message me if you would like to be tagged

——

How you had ended up on this planet, you did not know. How you ended up on this planet with Loki, god of mischief and pain in your ass? Again the answer evades you.

The last thing you remember was Thanos pointing his gauntlet on you and Loki shielding you with his own body.

That may be surprising to most. Loki, a villain, saving you, a hero but it wasn’t much of a suprise to you. You and Loki had grown fairly “close” throughout his time on earth. Though he could still be an ass when he wanted to be. And he always wanted to be.

Despite your so-called friendship, you wouldn’t believe Loki would put his own life at risk for you, so you assumed he somehow knew Thanos wasn’t planning on ending your life. Why? Who knows?

But now you found yourself under the God. Quite literally as you were lying on your back with him on top of you. The planets you could see in the sky was your first inkling that this wasn’t Earth. The second was the very colorful creatures that seemed to be coming towards the commotion.

“Loki where are we?” You panicked. You were a superhero but still human. And this place was obviously not made for someone like you.

“I’m not sure” Loki’s surveyed his surroundings, taking note of the groups of creatures coming towards you. His movements made you very aware of the predicament you were in.

You could feel Loki’s armor pressed against you firmly. The cool feeling of the metals made you shiver, or maybe that was Loki’s body temperature. His slender form was heavy on your petite one. Suddenly you noticed you were only wearing a singed white button-up blouse and very tight high-waisted black jeans. Hardly mission attire but Thanos’ attack gave you no time to change. Your powers didn’t rely on any sort of machine or suit anyway.

But since you were not wearing your suit, your body was very aware of every movement Loki made. This made you blush.

Like he read your mind, Loki stood up, pulling you up with him. You noted his firm grip on your arm and the way he made himself stand taller.

To strike fear in any potential threats, you thought.

You stood close enough to feel Loki stiffen as the crowd of colorful creatures, people, parted for a man, creature. The only difference between him and a mere human was his lavender skin tone. His black hair was done into a pony-tail that lyed on his shoulder. It was embellished with golden trinkets. His attire was a simple white skirt, barely covering his... lower regions along with a golden mantle that seemed to have two very naked creatures of the female anatomy carrying it behind him.

Loki’s eyes flickered to the planets in the sky and his eyes darkened.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered.

“The name of this cluster of planets escapes me but I do recognize it” Loki muttered. “They’re very... barbaric in their practices and they don’t often have visitors that are not native”

“Not often?” You questioned.

“Only when they get new shipments in”

“Shipments of what?” You questioned.

“Slaves”

You barely had any time to register what Loki had said before the man had reached you.

“I am Khelerath. King of Dicarro” The alien man announced and you could feel the power radiating off of him. It even frightened you a bit. “Who are you and why have you come here?”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water before Loki raised a hand to stop you.

“I am Loki. Prince of Asgard. I have been mistakenly transported to Dicarro while in battle” Loki explained, his voice radiating just as much power as Khelerath. Maybe even more and it surprised you as you had never felt that before. Not from Loki. And it frightened you a little less than Khelerath’s power.

“And who is this?” Khelerath’s lips twisted into a lude smile in your direction.

“She is my pet. Names are not important” Loki’s words made your eyes bulge from their sockets.

Pet?!?!

Loki’s eyes flashed to yours, almost ordering you to stay quiet and play along. You debated your options. On one hand you could fight him on it and possibly die on this strange planet or play along with the only man you knew on this planet who knew how this intergalactic crap worked. Yeah, the second option sounded better.

“You are not on Asgard, my dear Loki. You are trespassers on Dicarro, my homeworld. I decide what is important and what is not” Khelerath spoke calmly but you were still fearful.

Loki’s eyes flashed towards you and his lips stayed in a frown.

“Y/n. Her name is Y/n” Loki finally spoke.

Khelerath’s eyes sparked with interest as they met yours again. This time he passed Loki and made his way directly in front of you.

“Y/n” He grinned a devilish smile that made your stomach turn. His hand cupped your face roughly, squeezing your cheeks together. Not enough to hurt but enough to make your heart swell in fear. “Delicious”

Your eyes found Loki’s but he merely shook his head to say that he wasn’t worried about Khelerath hurting you at that moment. Despite that, you whimpered as Khelerath’s eyes racked over you.

Terrifying thoughts racked through your brain. As far as you could tell you were the only human here and what if they are humans and that’s why there were so many “alien abduction” stories on earth.

“She’s afraid” Loki’s voice radiating the same power as before and Khelerath’s hand had immediately retracted as if he had been burned.

You immediately scurried back to Loki. Like a child hiding behind their mothers legs after being scolded. In all honesty you would have never felt this comfortable being this close to Loki but at the moment he was the only thing that seemed to be trying to protect from the possible human-eating man.

“Do not be mistaken, you hold no power here Asgardian” Khelerath turned towards Loki. “I simply respect the rules of Dicarro and I apologize for laying my hands upon what is yours”

Loki simply nodded in acknowledgment to Khelerath’s apology.

“Where did you find such an exquisite creature?” Khelerath’s black eyes met your ocean blue ones and you suddenly understood that Khelerath had no desire to eat you... but to have you in ways that you had not been had in. You were only in your early twenties and spent most of your teenage years as an government experiment so you never had time for boys...

“Earth” Loki said simply and you hid behind him to get away from the sex crazed king’s eyes. “Now, I would like to find a way home for me and my pet but-“

“I am very sorry my friend but there is no way off of Dicarro. Well at least not at the moment. You must wait for our caravan to pass through. You are more than welcome to stay at the palace until then” Khelerath clapped his hands and 2, what looked like servants, appeared at his side.

“Please show Loki and Y/n” The way your name rolled off his forked tongue made you shiver in disgust. “To one of our nicer rooms. Oh, and find Loki something to tether Y/n to him. We wouldn’t want someone trying to steal her away when he wasn’t looking” The way his eyes glinted at you made your stomach turn. This was definitely not good...

The Night Ride

This is the very first Warrior and The King piece that I wrote...the story was so complete in my mind, I wrote it straight through in a couple of hours. It eventually became the second chapter in Book I. 

I am hoping that participating in the 52 Week Writing Challenge will will bring me some new fans (hello new followers! 😁), but my characters have been on a long journey and not a lot of it is posted here. Since it is always best to begin at the beginning, I am posting this one again...

And now that you know more about these two...I’ll post my Week 2 piece for the challenge tomorrow 

MasterList

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

During the night the rain stopped and a warm sun dried the party as they ate a hurried breakfast and packed up their camp. The warg howls they had heard the previous night were on all their minds, but the day passed without incident. At midday Gandalf turned off the road onto a wide path that followed beside a swift running stream and the way started to climb into the foothills of the mountains. As the sun began to dip into the west the path opened up into a kind of grassy meadow, ringed round one side with fir trees and the other with tall, sharp rocks. To Gandalf’s eye it looked an ideal campsite, and it had seen use by other travelers as the presence of an old fire ring attested. The mountains marched upwards behind them and they could see the path they had travelled for some distance, nothing could come that way without being seen. Thorin called a halt for the night and the Dwarves busied themselves setting up camp.

Fili was setting the picket line for the ponies with his brother when he looked up and saw a rider on the path coming towards them. A large, black horse followed by a big, rangy dog, he could see the rays of the setting sun glint off the rider’s golden hair. “There’s a horse coming this way!” He cried to the others. “An Elf, maybe.”

“Not an Elf, I think.” Gandalf said thoughtfully as he came up between Kili and his brother. “But certainly welcome company!” He stepped forward as the rider drew her horse up, smiling under his bushy beard. “Kaylea Wolf, you are a sight for sore eyes!”

They could all see now the rider was a woman. She smiled at the wizard as she surveyed him and his companions. “I have found you in odd company before, Gandalf the Grey. But none quite so strange as this.”

The woman who rode into their camp was a striking figure indeed. Thorin thought her the fairest woman he had ever seen. Though not an Elf she had the grace of that people, but there was a hardness to her the Fair Folk lacked. As if the beauty of Luthien Tinuviel herself had been poured over a core of thrice-forged steel. She had the appearance of a fell fighter and was armed with many weapons – sword, bow and knives, all bearing the signs of much use and expert care. Her close-fitting black garments of leather and heavy cloth would not have looked out of place worn by a man but were obviously made for her, tailored in a style he had not seen before. Her hair, shining like polished gold in the evening light was gathered in a tight braid down her back. She rode a tall, clean-limbed horse black as midnight. What Fili had taken to be a dog was actually a large black wolf not much smaller than a warg, wearing a wide collar. The wolf had stopped at the edge of the clearing, waiting and watching the company with evident interest. Both rider and horse bore the signs of long travel. Kaylea looked over the company, her glance returning several times to Thorin. He and the other Dwarves were staring at her curiously, her appearance was so unusual they were all taken aback. Thorin was the first of them to move next to her horse beside the wizard. He felt his heart leap when his eyes met those of this warrior woman, like he was connected to her somehow, although he had never met her. Thorin felt it must be just because he thought her so beautiful but it felt deeper, her eyes seemed to look right into his heart.  

“This is the company of Thorin Oakenshield”, Gandalf was saying. He indicated Thorin, who inclined his head as Kaylea’s grey-blue eyes returned to meet his.”Kaylea Wolf is a great warrior from a far country across the sea. She has ridden to Middle Earth’s aid before and is well known to the Rangers of the North. You would do us a great honor if you will travel with us, my lady.”

“Perhaps I shall,” Kaylea answered. “I have hurried to catch you to say there is an orc pack on your trail, from the look of it they have been following you for several days.”

“We heard warg howls last night,” Thorin replied, suddenly serious. “How many and how far back are they?”

“A little less than a league, my lord. There are more than two score, unless I miss my guess. They have been keeping their distance, for some reason of their own. I expect they will wait until full dark before they come closer.”

Gandalf looked back down the path, then at the ring of stones behind the camp. “We are four days from Rivendell and any help, we must make a stand here. But this is a good place to mount a defense.”   

Kaylea nodded, also appraising the campsite. “It would be hard to pick a better sight. But I was thinking I might thin out the pack a bit for you. I can easily get behind the pack and pick off a few.” She looked down at the wizard with a crooked smile.

“If you are hunting orcs, I’m coming with you,” said Thorin, he turned back to reach for his pony’s bridle. The other dwarves also moved to toward their ponies, not wanting to be left behind if there was going to be a fight.  

“Another sword would be welcome, my lord. But to catch warg-mounted orcs we must ride at great speed, ponies will not be able to keep up.”

Thorin quickly turned around, astonished. Kaylea had addressed him in perfect Khuzdul. He saw her holding a hand out to him, a foot loosed from the stirrup. Thorin did not hesitate, he took her hand, stepping up on her booted foot. She easily pulled him up behind her and reined her horse around.

“Hang on tight, my lord. We have a hard ride ahead of us,” she clicked her tongue and the big horse shot forward into the evening light, the wolf followed running into the trees. In seconds they had disappeared down the way they had come.

Gandalf chuckled, leaning on his staff. “Now I have now officially seen everything! Thorin Oakenshield on the back of a horse, who would have thought!”   

“I’ll wager any one of us would give his right arm to be sitting where Thorin is right now,” said Dwalin, shaking his head. “I certainly wish I had spoken first!” The other dwarves all muttered in agreement.

“I do not think being the first one to speak had anything to do with it”, said Gandalf with a twinkle in his eye. “Now, we have several hours before this orc pack gets here, if those two leave any alive. I think we could all do with a little cold supper and then we can prepare our defense.”

For Thorin’s part he was wondering if he was going to live through the ride to do any fighting. Kaylea’s horse set a tremendous pace and seemed to be part mountain goat. They soon turned off the path, the big horse jumping boulders and scaling steep climbs as easily as if they were flat ground. Dwarves are not enthusiastic riders and the ground seemed very far away. But even though the terrain was difficult the horse’s gait was very smooth, his footfalls eerily quiet. They passed through the forest almost like a shadow. Thorin held on to Kaylea tightly and despite his fear of falling found himself becoming very conscious of her body under her clothes, the smell of her hair. Closing his eyes he could smell sage and pine and something like cinnamon, on her clothes the smell of the desert, sun on hot sand.

“How is it that you speak my language?” He asked, opening his eyes again. He kept his voice low, hoping some conversation would distract his mind.

“I speak all the languages of Middle Earth, my lord” Kaylea replied, ducking to avoid a low-hanging branch. The trees had grown thicker as they travelled up the slopes, her horse was alternately trotting and cantering. “As the wizard said, I have travelled here often. But how does Thorin son of Thrain come to be on the road with such an odd assortment of companions?”

Thorin scowled. “You have me at a disadvantage, my lady! You seem to know me but I know nothing of you!” Kaylea chuckled at his anger, but she did tell him a bit about herself as they rode into the night.

She came from a country far across the sea called Dorsai, she said. The lord she served had once lived in Middle Earth and still had a great fondness for the land. He kept a watchful eye on it and upon receiving word that evil was once again abroad, he had sent Kaylea to investigate. She explained that since she knew Middle Earth and its people well, she often got these sorts of assignments.   

Kaylea stopped speaking and began to look closely at the ground. Thorin was about to ask about the nature of this evil, but she held up a hand. They were on a well-worn game trail now that wound its way between the trees, as they approached a stream crossing she reined in her horse. Although the light was nearly gone Thorin could see a large number of warg tracks on the muddy banks. “The pack is close before us now,” Kaylea said quietly. ”We must go forward on foot.”

Kaylea reached back and Thorin took her arm. She swung him down, he stepped again on her boot and then somewhat awkwardly to the ground. He shook his head, feeling if he could practice that a few more times he would be able to do it smoothly and not feel so foolish. Now that they stood side by side Thorin could see how tall she really was, his head reached just above her shoulder. Thorin did not find it intimidating, if anything it just made him more curious. The black wolf appeared out of the underbrush and looked meaningfully at Kaylea. Thorin had the impression some kind of silent conversation was going on, he decided to ask her about it later.  

After a moment the wolf turned away and disappeared into the woods again. Kaylea pulled her hood over her golden hair and followed him. “Quiet, my lord,” she whispered. “Step where I step.” Thorin fell in behind her, moving as quietly as he could. Dwarves see very well in the dark, but they are not masters of moving silently like Elves and Hobbits. Kaylea moved more quietly than either, in her black clothing invisible in the growing dark. When Thorin stepped on a branch with a snap she held her finger to her lips and then started to point behind her where he should place his feet, carefully holding branches up so he could pass beneath. Watching her closely and with some practice Thorin started to get the hang of it, placing his feet carefully. They soon heard much growling and harsh voices ahead; it appeared as if the orcs had paused in their hunt.

They moved forward carefully and came to a place where they could see a clearing in the woods, illuminated by a pale moon. The orc pack had killed an elk and the wargs were engaged in a fight for the remains. The orcs were standing around the edges of the clearing, cheering on the wargs amid much laughter. There were several orcs sitting close by on rocks with their backs to Thorin and Kaylea. Kaylea pointed to the orc closest to her and then to herself, she drew a long knife from her boot. She pointed at Thorin and then to the next orc, Thorin took her meaning and nodded, then drew his own blade. Together they each grabbed an orc, both fell silently with a blade to the neck. Several more orcs were slain in this fashion, then one made a slight sound and one of the wargs looked in their direction. With a growl the animal leaped forward, only to have Kaylea’s big wolf intercept him, closing his jaws on the warg’s throat. The two rolled into the middle of the clearing, the wolf rose over his slain enemy to engage the next warg that launched itself at him. Kaylea drew her sword and vaulted over the boulders into the fray, Thorin right behind her. In the ensuing fight Thorin had a few moments to observe Kaylea’s skill. She moved impossibly fast and never seemed to waste a single movement; every sword stroke hit its mark, every move settling up the next. Although he had not felt any mail when they were riding together the swords and arrows of the orcs could not penetrate her garments. Thorin had a close call when the warg mount of an orc he had just slain managed to deflect his sword and knock him backwards to the ground. The warg lunged forward to grab him but Kaylea was suddenly there. In one smooth movement she wrapped an arm up around the warg’s head and, with a savage twist, spun the animal away from her. Thorin saw the creature’s feet come off the ground, heard its neck crack, the beast fell to the ground and lay still. Seemingly always in motion, Kaylea pivoted towards him and, almost in the same instant a knife left her hand, piercing the neck of the orc behind him.

“Mind your surroundings, my lord!” She offered him a hand up then stepped to free her sword from the body of a fallen warg. Together they turned to face the next attackers and moments later it was over, the Dwarf king, the tall warrior woman and her black wolf stood in the hollow surrounded by their dead opponents,

“Looks like a good part of the raiding party,” Kaylea said, looking around. She flicked the blood off her sword and sheathed it, moved among the dead retrieving her knives and arrows. Thorin found his attention drawn to the wolf, he had thought during the fight it somehow looked different, now he could see it was wearing a thin kind of armor that covered its body and the top of its head. As he watched, the armor retracted itself swiftly into the collar the animal was wearing. Thorin blinked, not at all sure what he was seeing. Some kind of enchanted armor? Meanwhile the wolf looked pointedly at Kaylea for a moment then loped into the woods. Kaylea gave a low whistle, a moment later her horse trotted out of the trees. “Let us see if we can find the rest of them.”

Kaylea swung up on her horse, pulling Thorin up behind. They took off after the wolf at a swift canter. They had not gone far when Thorin saw movement off to one side, he tapped Kaylea’s shoulder and pointed. Just at that moment Kaylea’s wolf shot out of the underbrush, right under the nose of her horse, two warg-mounted orcs followed at speed. Thorin loosed his bow and turned, kneeling on the back of the saddle. Kaylea notched an arrow in her bow as well, shooting left handed to not interfere with Thorin’s shot. Both orcs and wargs fell dead. Thorin drew a breath and suddenly realized he had braced his body against Kaylea’s back and was still leaning against her.

“Pardon me,” he muttered, a bit flustered. It would have been fine if he was leaning on Dwalin, or some other member of his company he had been fighting with for years but it seemed overly familiar when it was a beautiful woman he had just met.

Kaylea however seemed unconcerned. “No offence taken, my lord” she said with a smile. “Not if you are going to shoot that well.” She let him down and jumped down herself to retrieve her arrows.

And so it continued through the night. At times the wolf would draw the wargs and their riders close, some they surprised and engaged with swords on the ground. They were on and off her big horse so many times Kaylea could pull Thorin up behind her without breaking stride. For Thorin it was a very different way of hunting orcs, in the past he had always engaged them directly with a large force, to pick them off a few at a time by stealth was new to him. As the night wore on he also found himself thinking he and Kaylea fought as if they had been companions for years instead of hours. Each seemed to know instinctively where the other was going to turn and which attacker to engage. While he very much enjoyed fighting with her, Thorin did wonder where this familiarity came from. They had just dispatched two wargs and their riders, Thorin was pulling his sword out of a wargs neck when he felt Kaylea”s hand on his arm.

“You are wounded,” she said, indicating a long gash above his elbow that was dripping blood. Thorin shook his head.

“It is nothing,” he said, and in fact he had hardly noticed the wound. But Kaylea would have none of it, her grip was like iron.

“Orc blades are often poisoned,” she said, not letting go of his arm. “Please let me take a look at it, my lord.”

While Thorin removed his bracer and rolled up his sleeve she retrieved a soft case from one of her saddlebags and opened it, removing a slim black cylinder. She pressed the side of the instrument, a tiny bright light shone out which she used to inspect Thorin’s arm. She had knelt on a rock to get closer to his wound, her head below Thorin’s for once. The cut was deep, but the edges were clean, no sign of blackening from a poisoned blade. The touch of her hands on his bare arm stirred Thorin’s blood, already up from the fighting. Looking at her in the moonlight he thought again he had never seen a woman more beautiful. His eyes wandered to the laces of her tunic, loosened by the fighting, revealing the curve of her breast. He wanted to draw her to him and kiss her but instead forced himself to look away, reminding himself he had just watched her kill a warg with her bare hands. Thorin was used to getting what he wanted, but felt this was not a conquest that would be easily won. Kaylea meanwhile took a vial from her case and spread some kind of ointment on his wound, she then quickly bound it with soft cloth. “You are lucky, my lord. The cut is clean and will soon heal,” her eyes came up to meet his and she smiled warmly. “I will not have the famous Thorin Oakenshield dying on my watch.”  

Thorin nodded and smiled back at her. “Thank you, my lady,” there was more he wished to say but held his tongue. Kaylea whistled for her horse and they continued the hunt.

It was past midnight and when they came upon a spot where the orc pack had split in two, a number headed down the mountain and back, the rest continuing ahead. Kaylea set Thorin down and dismounted to inspect the tracks carefully. Thorin looked them over but he was not much of a tracker so he could make little of them. He looked around at the slope they were standing on, the trees were much thinner here and the hills were covered with broken rocks amid the new grass. The slope looked flat but concealed many rises and sudden ravines.

“Some have broken off, no doubt to double back and attack your company,” she told Thorin. “Do we pursue them, or those that continue along this trail?”

“Let us follow the trail, my lady,” he replied with a smile. “Those that have headed back will get a fine welcome from my companions.”

In the first light before dawn Kaylea’s horse came out of the trees into a wide meadow that spanned a whole hillside. They could see a half dozen wargs, some with riders at the far side of the meadow running for their lives, they went over the next crest and disappeared. When her horse reached the spot Kaylea could see the the hill fell away sharply to a river below. From this overlook the heads of several swimming wargs and their riders could be seen in the water far below, some very close to a bend in the river that would take them from view. Kaylea uttered a word that was surely a curse in her native language, swiftly she set Thorin down and swung off her horse. She reached into the long scabbard that lay under her saddle and drew forth a strange weapon the like of which Thorin had never seen. It had a stock at one end that Kaylea fitted to her shoulder, some kind of trigger and a sort of sighting device mounted on top. Made of some dark metal Thorin did not recognize, flat-sided and deadly looking. Kaylea looked down the weapon at their now distant quarry in the river. Thorin heard a soft sighing sound and another, he looked at the swimming orcs and saw them disappear into the water, one after another. When he looked back at Kaylea she was holding the weapon straight up braced against her hip, shaking her head.

“I think some of them may have gone around that bend,” she said. “I do not think I got them all.” She turned and slid the weapon back into its scabbard. “I will be ill luck if any get back to their masters to set another hunt on us.”

“What is that?” Thorin asked, pointing at the scabbard. “What manner of weapon could hit an enemy at that distance?”

Kaylea favored him with a wide smile. “You did not see that, my lord” she said, and would say nothing further on the matter leaving Thorin to ponder the mystery. “The night is almost gone, and I believe that is the Bruinen. We have a bit of riding to do to get back to your company.”

Thorin peppered Kaylea with questions as they retraced their steps back to where the company was camped. He was feeling quite comfortable on her big horse now and was enjoying being so close to her and having a proper conversation in his native tongue. He kept his hands on her hips though he sometimes had to shift his grip to hold tight when her horse jumped a stream or downed tree. When he leaned against her he found the smell of her intoxicating, he kept looking at her exposed neck from her ear down to her collar. He fought the impulse to kiss her there and, if she had been a Dwarven woman he would have done it, but found he could not read this strange woman at all. He pondered the strong connection he felt with her, but could not be sure she felt it as well or would allow him to act on it.  

Kaylea told him a bit about her country. It seemed they were a nation of warriors, and as Dwarves earned their living through their craft, her folk earned it fighting in the wars of others. She had trained her whole life in the arts of war and was a commander for her lord in her own land. For his part, Thorin told Kaylea about his quest to reclaim his homeland.

“So, you are off to slay a dragon,” Kaylea shook her head. “That is a very great task indeed! But why are these orcs pursuing you, my lord? They were a large party, some bore the mark of Gundabad. This was not a random few who came on your trail by chance.”

Thorin shook his head. “I do not know, my lady. In the past I have fought many of their kind, but I have not done anything lately to attract their attention.”    

As they were speaking they came in sight of Thorin’s company. It appeared some of the raiders had found their quarry after all, dead orcs and wargs lay on either side of the path. Dwalin, Oin and Gloin were busy dragging the bodies into a pile to burn them. Some of the ponies had bolted during the attack and Fili and Kili were off looking for them. The Dwarves stopped in their work as Kaylea and Thorin rode up, eager to hear news of how they had passed the night. Gandalf and Bilbo were first to greet them as Kaylea set Thorin down and swung off her horse.

“We slew many of the pack and pursued them through the night to the Bruinen,” Kaylea told the wizard. “Still, I fear a few escaped us. We saw where these orcs turned back to attack you, but Thorin said his company could handle them.”

Gandalf nodded. “Yes, they came upon us here just past midnight. We were able to fight them off, I think our resistance rather surprised them. But you have had a long night’s ride, I expect you will be wanting some breakfast.”  

“Thank you, but not right away,” Kaylea replied. “I must tend to my horse first, and wash up.” With that she turned and led her horse away around the rocks towards the stream.

Thorin looked at himself then and realized he was covered in black blood, mud and tree sap and felt he must look quite the sight. “A wash seems a good idea,” he said. He turned to make his way to the stream, careful to head in the opposite direction from the way Kaylea had gone. Most of the other Dwarves followed him, eager to hear his account of the events of the night but when they saw him wade into the stream they all felt it was time for a wash and joined him.

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The complete Warrior and The King stories are posted on AO3 & FanFiction, links on my homepage

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