#ASTRID PUT DOWN THE KNIFE
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It is a lovely night in Old Sharlayan...
And you are about to shank your most despised hatefuck the man you fell in love with but you had to leave because you two weren’t gonna work out at the time under the eyes of gods and man
(i should not be allowed to crime)
#ffxiv#astrid deglass#gaius van baelsar#gaius baelsar#-WHEEZING-#listen i'm tired i had the idea in my head but i didn't expect it to turn out like this#GAIUS LOOK OUT#GAIUS#shit is he listening to his linkpearl?#ASTRID PUT DOWN THE KNIFE#the forbidden tools#ffxiv shitposting#no strings attached#the world's Worst Couple Ever
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Pounding Rain or Pounding Heart? | Hiccup Haddock
Hiccup Haddock Masterlist
Pairings: Hiccup Haddock x reader, platonic!gang x reader
Summary: When on a mission you get captured by dragon hunters.
Warnings:
Weapons
Explosions
Kidnapping
Knives
Threatening
Cursing
Poison
Possible dehydration
|PICTURE ARE NOT MINE|
——————————————
It was windy this evening. But you suppose that might be because you’re riding on the back of a dragon.
Your eyes were cast on the water below. Whispers about effective dragon traps being sold to hunters had gotten to Dragons Edge.
Hiccup decided that the group should check it out.
You had heard from some hunters that the shipments of weapons were around this area.
“Hiccup there’s nothing around here!” Astrid shouted from the back of Stormfly
“Keep looking! We can’t risk missing it!” Hiccup called back
You sighed, you’d been out for hours. All you could think about was dinner and your warm bed back on the edge.
“Are we sure that hunter was telling the truth? He could’ve given us random coordinates just so we’d let him go.” Tuffnut pointed out
“Yeah, we might just be wasting our time.” Ruffnut agreed
“We have to be sure.” Hiccup answered
You scanned the steady waters before casting your glances upward. The sky was pretty clear when you had left. Now it was dark, it looked like it was going to storm.
“Hiccup, maybe we should head back before it storms.” You shouted
Hiccup looked back at you, then maneuvered Toothless so the two of you were flying side by side.
“We will. But we have to keep looking.” He responded
“We’ve been looking for hours Hiccup. Maybe it’s time to go home.” You replied
Hiccup sighed, looking at Toothless below him, he was clearly in thought.
He turned his head toward you to speak but was cut off by a shout.
“There!” Fishlegs shouted
Sure enough, a large ship was in sight. It was a little ways away but with the speed of your dragons you were sure to come in contact with it soon.
“Come on!” Hiccup shouted and dived down closer to the water.
The rest of you followed. The cold air hit your face in cold stabs. You closed your eyes for a moment, the air had caused your eyes to water.
You opened your eyes when you felt your dragon straighten out, becoming parrellel with the water below.
“Astrid, Snotlout, attack from the sides. Ruff, Tuff, ring of fire!” Hiccup instructed
The twins shouted with glee, eagerly flying Barf and Belch around the ship to complete their task.
“Fishlegs, scout the area for the traps.” Hiccup looked at you, “We’ll attack from above.”
You nodded, signaling your dragon to follow Toothless.
Arrows with dragon root were already being shot into the air by the time you hovered above the ship. Your dragon expertly dodged all of them.
The ship rocked from the explosion the twins had made.
You expected it to begin to sink but it didn’t.
“Hiccup it’s dragon proof!” Astrid shouted, frustration laced in her voice.
“There aren’t any signs of the traps either!” Fishlegs flew up towards the two of you.
Hiccup groaned in annoyance.
Snotlout took that mement to speak his thoughts, “Well, now that that plans failed, I say we put my plan into play. Fire blazing attack. Snotlout!” Snotlout and Hookfang dived towards the ship.
“No!” Hiccup yelled but it was lost with the wind.
“Yeah!” “Wohoo!” The twins yelled following Snotlout
Hiccup tightened his hands on the reigns, “Toothless, dive!”
You, Astrid, and Fishlegs followed after him.
Your dragons tail whipped out, knocking an arrow from its path to Stormfly.
Astrid sent you a grateful nod.
The blonde yelled and jumped off Stormfly, axe in her hands.
Stormfly hovered in the air loyally, protecting Astrid from above.
“Down.” You said to your dragon
Your dragon landed on the deck of the ship, protecting your back as you pulled your knife out of you pocket, ready to kick some dragon hunter ass.
“Help!” Snotlout shrieked, he and Hookfang were caught in a net.
“There!” You shouted, your dragon blew fire at the net.
Only to reveal it was dragon proof.
You cursed under your breath, mounting your dragon.
Your dragon used its feet to try and lift it, but it was too heavy.
“A little help!” You yelled a little panicked
“A little busy. Gosh, doesn’t anyone respect the art of the fight.” You heard Tuffnut say
“I’m coming!” Fishlegs said
The two of you tried lifting the net but it was still too heavy.
“I’m here.” Astrid came over.
The three of you were able to lift the net up long enough for Hookfang and Snotlout to get out.
“We had it handled.” Snotlout said once they were in the air
You rolled your eyes but dived back down.
Hiccup and Toothless were corned by a group of hunters. Your dragon sent a blast, knocking the hunters out the way, and creating a path for Toothless and Hiccup.
The rain started coming down heavy.
The clouds were dark and it was hard to see anything other than your dragon blast.
Which is why you didn’t see a hunter cut a rope till a dragon proof cage fell down, trapping Hiccup and Toothless.
“Drop me here.” You instructed your dragon. You hopped off its back and pulled out your blade once more.
You punched the first hunter you came in contact with, knocking him out. You searched through his jacket hoping to find the key to the cage.
Your dragon roared, alerting you of the hunter that was running towards you. You dodged his attack. You turned ready to fight, just to notice he had knocked himself out by accidentally banging his head on a wooden pole while grabbing for you.
You repeated your process, but still no key.
You heard a deep chuckle and saw a hunter aiming an arrow at the twins.
You tackled him to the floor. His large hands trying to push you off so he could run away.
You noticed the keys at the last second, grabbing them from his belt without him noticing as he ran for shelter. Only to be stopped from a blast from Hookfang.
You rushed over to Hiccup and Toothless, quickly letting them out.
“It must have been a trap.” Hiccup said, “Get in the air, quick!” He shouted mounting Toothless and flying upward.
You looked around but you couldn’t spot your dragon with the rain. You could hear them, but you couldn’t see them.
You looked back toward where Hiccup had been but he too was gone.
They were still here, you could hear them, even over the sound of the pouring rain, you could hear them.
Before you could call for your dragon, a firm grip grasped your wrist, the one with the bad that was holding your knife, and they turned it, hard.
You shrieked in pain.
You could hear your dragon call out in worry after hearing your pain. But they couldn’t get to you with all the arrows.
After an arrow narrowly missed their eye you had had enough.
“Go! Go with the others!” You shouted but your dragon didn’t move, “Go, there’s nothing you can do for me right now!” Your dragon roared regretfully.
The hunter holding you placed their hand over your mouth.
“Stay still pretty.” The hunter whispered
Angered, you bit down on his hand.
The hunter staggered back in pain. You tried to make a run for it, but you had already been surrounded by armed hunters.
You placed your hands up in defeat. You couldn’t fight ten to twelve hunters by yourself.
You thought they were just going to tie your wrists when a hand came from behind you, placing a cloth over your mouth.
You gasped in surprise.
Soon, your vision was fading, and you couldn’t tell the difference between the rain and your pounding heart.
————————
You coughed, again, and again, until your were fully conscious.
“Quiet brother, our guest has awaken.” A frighteningly familiar voice said
You looked up in shock. Sure enough it was Viggo with Ryker standing threateningly behind him.
“Sleep well?” Viggo asked faux kindness
You only glared back.
Viggo shrugged, unphased, “Fair enough.” He muttered
“I say we slit her throat.” Ryker said
You shivered involuntarily in fear.
Viggo sighed, clearly annoyed, “I’ve told you this big brother, we need her alive for this to work.”
“Just tell the dragon riders that she is alive.” Ryker said
Viggo shook his head, looking like a dissapointed father, “Hiccup is too smart for that. We need her alive and well. Now…” He turned to look at you, his expression changing back to the faux friendliness, “Is there anything you’d like to share with us?” He asked
You glared in return, partly because you wanted to annoy them, and partly because your throat ached.
Viggo sighed, dissapointed but not suprised, “Very well, throw her in a cell till we reach land.”
Two lower ranking guards nodded and picked you up, one of them on each arm.
You went to stand as they began moving but collapsed.
Viggo looked at you, again unsurprised, “I probably should’ve mentioned that you won’t be able to walk properly for a little while. Some side affects of the poison.”
Your eyes widened but he didn’t cast a second glance at you.
The guards dragged you downstairs and threw you into a dragon proof cell.
You looked around and saw that there were dragons in the other cells.
None the same type as your dragon, but there was a deadly nadder, which reminded you of Astrid and Stormfly. A couple gronkles too, which made you think of Fishlegs and Meatlug.
Astrid would’ve come up with a plan to get you out of here. She would’ve been able to take out the guards no problem.
Fishlegs would’ve known what they gave you. He would’ve known what to use to heal you.
The twins would’ve talked about something stupid and come up with jokes during inappropriate times that would’ve made you want to laugh.
Snotlout would’ve complained about being trapped. He would name all of his favorite things and complain that he’d never get to do them again. He might’ve even sang some of the lullaby’s his mother used to sing to him.
And Hiccup…oh how you wish Hiccup was here. You didn’t want to be alone. Surrounded by enemies and dragons that wanted nothing to do with you. Hiccup would’ve tried to befriend the dragons so they could both escape.
You didn’t have the energy for that though. You were tired. You were so tired. Your head hurt. The wooden walls of the ship were extremely uncomfortable but they were all you had.
You wanted your dragon, or your friends. You wanted Hiccup. He’d convince you that everything would be okay, even if they weren’t.
But you were all alone.
————————————
You were awaken by the sound of metal banging.
One of the hunters was banging his axe against the bars of your cell. He was grinning.
You clenched your teeth, wanting nothing more than to knock out his teeth.
“Wakey wakey.” He said, waving his axe as if he was greeting you with a wave of the hand.
You growled under your breath in annoyance.
“Ryker said to take you above deck.” The man said, using his keys to unlock your cell.
The dragons around you roared in protest.
“Oh shut up you stupid lizards!” The man yelled
You clenched your teeth. One, he needed to be punched, preferably by you. Two, the loud noises were not helping your headache.
The hunter yanked you up by your arm, causing you to gasp in pain.
“Whoops, did I hurt you.” He laughed
You considered trying to trip him, but then shut down the idea knowing if he went down you went down with him.
Your legs dragged on the floor through the lower deck and the steps were worse.
The hunter grumbled because he had to practically carry you up.
The feeling of the sun was the same as running head first into a tree.
You could barely keep your eyes open.
“Oh, looks who’s awake.” Ryker said, “You, take her down to the tent next to Viggos. Tie her to the bed post and leave.”
You guessed he was addressing the hunter that was currently yanking you around because suddenly you were being dragged down a ramp.
Again, not good, not good at all.
You heard the sound of fabric being moved and the sun wasn’t as bright behind your eyes, so you assumed you were now in said tent.
You opened up and sure enough, you were right.
The guard used some rope to tie one of your wrists to the bed post. He made sure to do it extra tight.
You fought the urge to cry out as you felt the rope dig into your skin.
The hunter sneered at the sight of you helpless, but followed his orders and walked out without a word.
You rested your head on the bed. You felt like you had been thrown off a mountain.
A few moments later you heard the tent open, for a moment you wondered if it was Viggo. And the hopeful side of you hoped it was one of your friends.
It was neither. This time, it was a different hunter. He was carrying a food of plate in one hand and a cup with what you assumed was water in the other.
You wondered if he wanted you to watch him eat. Or if Viggo had sent him to make you watch him eat.
“Viggo says you should eat.” The hunter said
Of course. “Alive and well.” Viggo had said.
Hiccup wouldn’t be happy to find out they had starved you. Then again he probably wasn’t happy they kidnapped you either.
As the hunter walked back out you peered at your food.
It was a well served plate. Plenty of food to eat, and it looked good as well. It smelled good too.
But looking at it made you nauseous. So you decided against eating.
You reached for the cup of water, as you wrapped your hands around it a loud sound could be heard from outside your tent. You jumped in suprise and your water spilled, with barely a couple drops of water left in your cup.
You wanted to cry out in frustration.
You once again hoped for your friends to be on the other side of the tent but once again you were dissapointed to hear Ryker shouting at some men for dropping something.
You sighed, laying your head back once more in hope to sleep until your friends got here.
———————-
“-up. Wake up!” A voice shouted
You jumped, opening your eyes to see Ryker in front of you with an impatient expression.
“Lucky you, your friends have come to save you.” He said
He hauled you up and you were dragged out into an open field.
The sun had mostly gone down, the sky was dark. Thankfully you could keep your eyes open now without a headache.
Walking further you could make out Viggos back, getting closer you could finally make them out. The dragon riders, your friends, stood together, with Hiccup at the front.
Oh you could cry in joy.
You heard a familiar roar. Your dragon was here too. Hovering above and looking straight at you.
Your dragon had announced your prescense as all your friends looked over to you at once.
Some looked shocked, others relieved, some angry. A couple had a mixture.
Hiccup called out your name and stepped forward but Viggo held up his hand and stepped to the side in front of you. Viggo blocked your view from Hiccup and in turn blocked Hiccups view to you.
“I’m a businessman Hiccup. One does not make these type of transactions without getting something in return.” Viggo said
“What do you want Viggo?” Hiccup asked, he sounded very frustrated.
“I want the papers you stole from me. Do you have them?”
Hiccup didn’t answer for a moment but seeing the back of Viggos head nod you assumed that Hiccup did have them.
You heard the sound of a buckle and some footsteps. You saw Viggos hand reach out but it stopped midway.
“One doesn’t make a trade without getting something in return.” Hiccup said
Viggo chuckled in amusement, “Yes yes. Big brother.”
Ryker walked forward with you. When you could see Hiccup again you could make out the stress in his posture and the worry in his eyes. You tried to smile but it probably didn’t look right.
“Do we have a deal?” Viggo asked
Hiccup sighed, “We have a deal.” He outstretched his hand with the pieces of parchment.
Viggo took them, opened them, scanned them, then nodded toward Ryker.
Ryker pushed you forward and Hiccup caught you.
Your face was against his chest and you breathed in his scent.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Hiccup tried to sooth you.
“What did you do to her?” Fishlegs cried
“Relax. It’s simply a side affect of the poison.” Viggo answered
You heard a collected gasp from your friends.
“You poisened her!” Snotlout yelled
“You monster!” Fishlegs said
“How dare you!” Astrid screamed
“Not cool, dude.” Tuffnut said
“So, not cool.” Ruffnut agreed
“It’s a common poison, I assure you. I’m sure you’ll be able to heal her just fine.” Viggo said, unphased
“We better.” Hiccup threatened
“Farewell, dragons riders. I’m sure we will see each other very soon.” Viggo said
Hiccup, and you guessed Astrid helped you walk over to Toothless. There was no way you could fly your dragon, you knew that.
Astrid and Fishlegs helped you on to Toothless after Hiccup mounted.
Your back rested against Hiccups chest. His arms coming around your waist to hold onto the reigns.
“We’ll be home soon enough.” Hiccup whispered
That was the last thing you heard before you fell asleep.
——————————-
The next morning was odd.
Like waking up after a dream kind of odd.
You realized that a damp cloth was rested on your forehead. You reached up to grab it when a hand, gently this time, grabbed your wrist.
“Leave it be. It’s meant to help you.” A voice muttered
“Hiccup.” You rasped
“Hey, yeah, it’s me.” Hiccup said, placing his hand over yours.
You heard a quiet grumble.
Hiccup looked over his shoulder, “And these guys too.”
Looking over, Toothless and your dragon were watching the two of you closely.
“Hey guys.” You said weakly
Your dragon walked over to your carefully. They gently rubbed their head against yours.
“I missed you too.” You whispered
“She’s awake!” Another voice said
You grimaced at how loud they were speaking.
“Sorry.” You heard them say
Fishlegs and Meatlug were walking toward you.
Hiccup moved from the chair he was sitting on so Fishlegs could get a better look at you.
Fishlegs examined you for a few moments before asking, “How do you feel?”
“Better.” You responded, “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Fishlegs replied
You looked toward Meatlug, “What’s the final judgement, doc?”
Meatlug grumbled something and Fishlegs translated, “She said you’ll make a full recovery.”
“Thanks the gods, you’re alright.” A new voice said
Astrid made her way into view and smiled down at you.
“You really had us worried you know.” Astrid added
“Not me though.” Snotlout added in
Everyone glared at him and he went quiet.
“She’s awake?” Tuffnut asked
“Of course she’s awake look at her!” Ruff replied, “Have you ever seen someone sleep with their eyes open?”
Tuff went into his thinking face, “Well, there was this one time we were at…”
Hiccup made his way back over to you and grabbed your hand.
“Perhaps we should go.” Astrid said
“I agree.” Fishlegs said
“What? But we just got here!” Ruff said
“Yeah! She’s our friend too, why does Hiccup get to hog her?” Tuff added in
Astrid grabbed both of them by the shoulders and walked them out, Fishlegs and Snotlout following behind. Not before Snotlout sent a disgusted look towards the two of you though.
Hiccup sent a look toward the dragons, a silent request, and they too left.
“Thank you for coming back for me.” You whispered
“You didn’t think we were gonna leave you there, did you?” Hiccup chuckled
You smiled, “I knew you would come back for me.”
Hiccup smiled too, “I would never not come back for you.”
#httyd#hiccup haddock#hiccup haddock x reader#hiccup x reader#hiccup#dragon riders#dragon hunters#dragons#hiccup fluff
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242 Reasons Why Lucien is the GOAT of the ACOTAR Series
“I’m Lucien. Courtier and emissary.” He gestured to me with a flourish. “Your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold.”
Lucien smirked. “Apologies, Feyre.”
I finally found Lucien astride a black gelding, grinning down at me with too-white teeth.
“I admire your balls, Feyre—I really do. Or maybe it’s stupidity
“A valiant effort,” Lucien said with a smirk.
Lucien snorted but didn’t say anything else
“I might die of surprise,” Lucien said behind me. “You made a joke, Feyre.”
A cork popped, followed by the sounds of Lucien chugging the bottle’s contents and chuckling with a muttered “Brushed.”
Lucien remained sitting on the blanket and lifted the bottle of wine in salute. He took a slug from it as he sprawled on his back and gazed at the green canopy.
He sighed, looking skyward before he studied me warily, that metal eye narrowing with unnerving focus.
I wondered—wondered if being emissary also meant being spymaster.
“I didn’t keep my mouth shut when I should have, and was punished for it.”
“Well, thank the Cauldron that you didn’t. Cleaning up that mess would have ruined the rest of my day.”
He winced. “Shit, Feyre—I’m not that old.”
Lucien huffed a laugh. “Not as good as Tam, but I know how to handle my weapons.”
“Would you like me to teach you how to wield a blade, or do you already know how, oh mighty mortal huntress?
Lucien sighed as he looked me over. “Do you ever stop being so serious and dull?”. “Do you ever stop being such a prick?” I snapped back. But Lucien grinned at me. “Much better.”
The face of Tamlin’s emissary—more court-trained and calculating than I’d seen him yet.
In lieu of a pretty breakfast table by the window, a worn worktable dominated the space, covered in various weapons.
It was there he sat, wearing only a white shirt and trousers, his red hair unbound and gleaming like liquid fire. Tamlin’s court-trained emissary, but a warrior in his own right.
“I had to go sort out some hotheads on the northern border—official emissary business,” he said, setting down the hunting knife he’d been cleaning, a long, vicious blade.
Lucien leaned back in his chair, smiling with feline delight.
Lucien never cared about it, never expected to be crowned High Lord, so he spent his youth doing everything a High Lord’s son probably shouldn’t: wandering the courts, making friends with the sons of other High Lords”—
he’d already made many friends across the courts and had always been good at talking to people.
Lucien told her to go back to the shit-hole she’d crawled out of. She took his eye as punishment.
The metal eye narrowed on me while the other remained wary, unimpressed. “Yes?”
The look he gave me was more contemplative than any he’d given me before. “I know far too many High Fae and lesser faeries who wouldn’t have seen it that way—or bothered.”
He reached for something at his side and tossed it to me. I had to fight to stay in the saddle as I fumbled for it—a jeweled hunting knife. / I’d never held one so finely crafted, so perfectly balanced.
“Burn in Hell,” Lucien replied for Tamlin.
“Idiot!” he yelled at me, then glanced behind him toward where the other faeries stared. “Useless human fool.” Without further word, he slung me over his shoulder as if I were a sack of potatoes.
I found that he was running—fast. Faster than anything should be able to move.
I could have sworn that Lucien was sleeping upright, fork in hand.
Lucien propped an arm on the table and covered his mouth with his hand, his russet eye bright.
“Faerie pig!” I yelled, and Lucien howled, almost tipping back in his chair.
“Well, I’m late for something incredibly important,” Lucien said, and before I could call him on his outright lie or beg him to stay, the fox-masked faerie vanished.
Lucien, claiming that he had miserable emissary business to attend to,
Lucien, mercifully, appeared like Lucien. I didn’t ask whether that was because Tamlin had informed him to put up a better glamour or because he didn’t bother trying to be something he wasn’t.
“I see,” I lied, not quite seeing at all. Lucien chuckled, sensing it
He used the dagger to clean his nails. “I’ve been busy. So have you, I take it.”
Lucien climbed the statue to remove the head.
“Cauldron boil me,” Lucien whistled as I came down the stairs. “She looks positively Fae.”
“Unfortunately for you and your neck,” Lucien countered, “tonight’s just a party.” “Do you lie awake at night to come up with all your witty replies for the following day?” Lucien winked at me.
“So there’s singing and dancing and excessive drinking,” Lucien chimed in, falling into step beside me. “And dallying,” he added with a wicked grin.
“Remember the last time you ignored my warning?” He poked me in the neck, and I batted his hand away.
“I also remember you telling me how witchberries were harmless, and the next thing I knew, I was half-delirious and falling all over myself,” I said, recalling the afternoon from a few weeks ago. I’d had hallucinations for hours afterward, and Lucien had laughed himself sick—enough so that Tamlin had chucked him into the reflection pool.
His auburn hair burned like hot metal, and his russet eye smoldered like a bottomless forge.
“Cauldron boil and fry me,” he muttered,
“Idiot,” he said when he looked at my face. “Drunken idiot.”
I wanted his broad hands running over my bare skin, wanted his teeth scraping against my neck, wanted his mouth all over me. “I’m trying to eat,” Lucien said
Lucien lead me to the window, where he pushed me against the velvet drapes. / The tang of magic shoved itself up my nostrils. Though his sword was pointed at the floor, Lucien’s grip tightened on it until his knuckles turned white. Magic—a glamour. To conceal me, to make me a part of Lucien—invisible, hidden by the faerie’s magic and scent.
Lucien pointed his sword at Rhysand. “Watch your filthy mouth.”
Lucien spat at Rhysand’s feet and shoved his sword between us.
“You draw blood from me, Lucien, and you’ll learn how quickly Amarantha’s whore can make the entire Autumn Court bleed. Especially its darling Lady.” The color leeched from Lucien’s face, but he held his ground.
Lucien stared him down for a moment, spat on the ground, and stormed up the stairs.
“Well, at least we don’t have to lie to you anymore. Let’s clean you up a bit.”
“Fixed—as pert and pretty as before.” He smirked at me.
“Her name, Emissary?” Amarantha asked of Lucien. But Lucien only glanced at Tamlin before closing his eyes and squaring his shoulders.
“I thought you would have learned your lesson, Lucien. Though this time your silence will damn you as much as your tongue.” Lucien kept his eyes shut. Ready—he was ready for Rhysand to wipe out everything he was, to turn his mind, his self, into dust.
Then, shattering the silence like a shooting star, a voice—Lucien’s—bellowed across the chamber. “TO YOUR LEFT!”
She listened, of course—but only after she made Tamlin bestow Lucien’s punishment. Twenty lashes.”
He unclasped his cloak and set it around my shoulders.
“It’s why I couldn’t come sooner,” he said, his throat bobbing. “She used her—used our powers to keep my back from healing. I haven’t been able to move until today.”
The brutally scarred face beneath was still handsome—his features sharp and elegant.
“Tam!” Lucien cried over the chaos. A sword hurtled through the air, a shooting star of steel.
Lucien hunted down five naga yesterday.”
Lucien had gifted both to me—the dagger during the months before Amarantha, the belt in the weeks after her downfall, when I’d carried the dagger, along with many others, everywhere I went. You might as well look good if you’re going to arm yourself to the teeth, he’d said.
Last week, I’d finally asked him if she’d set her sights on him, and Lucien had merely given me a look, snarling softly, before stalking off
the right hand of a High Lord and another High Lord’s son.
“I didn’t lie,” Lucien said tightly. “I technically did fall off my horse.” He patted his mount’s flank. “After one of them tackled me off her.”
I am the first one the others look to—I set the example.
“I was forced to watch as my father butchered the female I loved. My brothers forced me to watch.”
“Please,” Lucien said, bowing his head gracefully. “The effort to rebuild is our burden to share. It would be our honor.”
He assured me that he hated the gatherings as much as I did, and that Lucien was the only one who really enjoyed himself,
Lucien intervened calmly, “I already have my sources looking into it.”
Lucien sighed a bit and said to Tamlin, “If we perhaps trained her in secret—”
Lucien muttered something that sounded like a plea to the Cauldron.
Lucien took a deep breath that sounded a lot like: “Here we go.”
Lucien cleared his throat. “She meant no harm, Tam.”/ Lucien held his gaze. “Worse things have happened, worse things can happen. Just relax.”
Thoughts slammed into me, images and memories, a pattern of thinking and feeling that was old, and clever, and sad, so endlessly sad and guilt-ridden, hopeless—
“How long have the claws been appearing?” he said softly. "There's only so much I can do,” he said hoarsely. “But I’ll ask him tonight. About the training. The powers will manifest whether we train you or not, no matter who is around. I’ll ask him tonight,” he repeated.
They will hunt her, and kill her, Ianthe had hissed at Lucien. Lucien had growled back, They’ll do it anyway, so what’s the difference?
We are not assassins, Lucien had cut in. Rhys is what he is, but who would take his place—. Lucien had gone on, his tone pleading, Tamlin. Tam. Just let her train, let her master this—if the other High Lords do come for her, let her stand a chance...
His red hair was tied back, and there wasn’t a hint of finery on him: just armored leather, swords, knives
Lucien, beside Tamlin, again put a hand on his sword. “Stop this.”
“That is enough.” Lucien surged for Elain, for the Cauldron.
Lucien snarled at the king over the bite of the magic at his throat, “Don’t just leave her on the damned floor—” There was a flare of light, and a scrape, and then Lucien was stalking toward Elain, freed of his restraints.
As Lucien took off his jacket, kneeling before Elain.
“She is no such thing,” she said, and shoved him again. Lucien didn’t move an inch.
Perhaps you’ll get a handsome Fae lord as your mate, too.”
Lucien’s answering growl was nothing short of feral.
Lucien spun toward me, and that metal eye whirred and narrowed. Centuries of cultivated reason clicked into place.
But Lucien was watching me warily. Too warily.
His gaze on me. Face hard. As if he’d seen through every lie. As if he knew of the second tattoo beneath my glove, and the glamour I now kept on it. As if he knew that they had let a fox into a chicken coop—and he could do nothing. Not unless he never wanted to see his mate—Elain—again.
It was Lucien who answered, studying my painting as if it held the proof I knew he was searching for.
Lucien remained leaning against the door across from mine. His room. I didn’t doubt he’d ensured I now stayed across from him. Didn’t doubt that the metal eye he possessed was always turned toward my own chambers, even while he slept.
“She’s going to spin a story that you’ll want to hear,” Lucien warned. / Lucien halted me with a hand around my elbow. “You’re smarter than that.” I studied the broad, tan hand wrapped around my elbow.
Lucien breathed, “Where is he keeping her?” / “Tell me anyway. List all of them.”. “You’ll die the moment you set foot in his territory.” “I survived well enough when I found you.”
Lucien only nodded. But I felt his gaze on my back, fixed right on my spine, as I headed downstairs
Lucien answered, “If you expect our gratitude, you’ll be waiting a while, Ianthe.”
Lucien seemed to be trying very, very hard not to roll his eyes.
I could practically feel the snide remark simmering in Lucien.
“My emissary knows the wall as well as any sentry.”
“I have an old friend at the Dawn Court. She’s skilled at tinkering—blending magic and machinery. Tamlin got her to craft it for me at great risk.”
I was fairly certain that only centuries of training kept Lucien from leaping over the table to rip out Jurian’s throat.
“The gap in the wall is right up here,” Lucien was saying, sounding about as thrilled as me to be in such company.
Brannagh studied how closely I stood to Lucien; how he shifted slightly to shield me, too.
Lucien sat against a nearby tree, folding one booted ankle over another. “Whatever you’re planning, it’ll land us knee-deep in shit.”
“I would have been a part of the human-Fae alliance.”
“I did it for you, too, you know.” Cold, hard words. “I went with him to get you back.”
But the only trace of you was that ring, melted between the stones of the parlor. I got rid of it a moment before Tam arrived home to see it.”
“This situation is terrible,” I said, and it was the truth. A low snort.
And despite Jurian, despite the sneering royals, a corner of Lucien’s mouth tugged upward.
I gave Lucien a subtle, pleading look, and he barely hid his smirk as he sauntered over to me. Our dispersing party watched as he braced my waist in his broad hands and easily hefted me off the horse.
Ever the courtier, he bowed back.
He flat-out refused to participate. I replaced him in the Rite, but …” I went in his stead, and I did my duty to the court.
I could feel Ianthe scrambling to regain control, to find some way to spin it. Perhaps Lucien could, too. For he took my hand, and then knelt upon one knee in the grass, pressing my fingers to his brow.
I kept close to Lucien, who was inclined to indulge me.
Lucien answered on the second knock. “I heard you—what’s wrong.” He scanned me, russet eye wide as he noted my disheveled hair, my sweaty nightgown. / I swallowed, a silent question on my face, and he nodded, retreating into the room to let me inside. Bare from the waist up, he’d managed to haul on a pair of pants before opening the door, and hastily buttoned them as I strode past.
“What did you dream of tonight?” he asked quietly./ Lucien rose, stalking to me. / Lucien paused half a foot from me. He didn’t so much as object as I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face against his warm, bare chest. / Lucien loosed a heavy sigh and slid an arm around my waist, the other threading through my hair to cradle my head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.” He held me, stroking soothing lines down my back
His red hair gleamed in the faint firelight.
His silence was heavy—sad. I hated the lie, hated it for how filthy it felt to wield it. “I’m sorry,” he said
It’s why we avoid bargains unless it’s necessary: even the scholars at the Day Court don’t know how it works. Believe me, I’ve asked.” “For me—you asked them for me.”. “Yes. I went last winter to inquire about breaking your bargain with Rhys.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I—we didn’t want to give you false hope. And we didn’t dare let Rhysand get wind of what we were doing, in case he found a way to interfere. To stop it.”
“You didn’t stop him.” “I tried. I begged him for mercy. He didn’t listen. He couldn’t listen.”
“Even if they’re now our allies,” I mumbled, “I still hate them.” A snort. “Me too.”
“Autumn Court males have fire in their blood—and they fuck like it, too.”
Then at us, their eyes widening further as they noted Lucien’s cruel beauty.
Lucien stared him down. “We accept no tribute from the human lands. Least of all children.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied, well aware that Lucien carefully watched from the shade of a nearby oak.
Lucien had gone to the stream to get more water
Lucien woke me the next morning with a hand over my mouth, warning gleaming in his russet eye. I smelled it a moment later: the coppery tang of blood. / Lucien slid from the tent, limbs loose and ready to shift into a defensive position. He’d been trained, he once told me—at the Autumn Court and at this one. Like Rhys, he usually opted for words to win his battles, but I’d seen him and Tamlin in the practice ring. He knew how to handle a weapon. How to kill, if need be.
Lucien laid his own cloak across the remains of the two young women.
“They are our allies,” he growled at me, at Lucien, both of us seated in armchairs flanking the mantel. / “And you should have left it alone for me to deal with.” Tamlin heaved a jagged breath. “Not retaliated like children.” He threw a glare in Lucien’s direction. “I expected better from you.” / “You sent the Bogge after them!” Tamlin roared. /Lucien had tracked it down—and we’d lured it, carefully, over hours, back to that camp. Right to where Dagdan and Brannagh had been gloating over their kill. / Lucien cleared his throat. Stood as well. “Tam—those humans were barely more than children. Feyre gave the royals an order to stand down. They ignored it. If we let Hybern walk all over us, we stand to lose more than their alliance. The Bogge reminded them that we aren’t without our claws, too.”
He exploded. Furniture splintered and went flying, windows cracked and shattered. / My knees slammed into the carpeted floor, and Tamlin was instantly in front of me, hands shaking— The doors burst open. “What have you done,” Lucien breathed, and Tamlin’s face was the picture of devastation as Lucien shoved him aside. He let Lucien shove him aside and help me stand. / “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Lucien said, an arm around my shoulders as he eased me from the room.
the broad panes of his chest, his stomach.
But Lucien was there. Her focus wholly on me, on taking from me the beauty I’d burned from her, Brannagh did not see him winnow until it was too late. Until Lucien’s sword refracted the light of the sun leaking through the canopy. And then met flesh and bone.
“I’m going with you,” he said again, face splattered with blood as bright as his hair. “I’m getting my mate back.”
“I know a place,” Lucien said, walking toward the cave that would take us to his home.
I let Lucien lead the way,
“It doesn’t lead anywhere. It curves away in the back—it’ll keep us out of sight.” I let him go inside first nonetheless.
Flint struck, and I found myself gazing at a makeshift camp of sorts. The candle Lucien had ignited sat on a natural stone ledge, and on the floor nearby lay three bedrolls and old blankets, crusted with leaves and cobwebs. A little fire pit lay in the sloped center of the space, the ceiling above it charred. No one had been here in months. Years. “I used to stay here while hunting. Before—I left,” he said,
“It’s too risky to eat,” I admitted, evading his question. Lucien was having none of it. “I knew. I knew you were lying the moment you unleashed that light in Hybern. My friend at the Dawn Court has the same power—her light is identical. And it does not do whatever horseshit you lied about it doing.”
His eye seemed to simmer. As if being in his own lands set that molten ore inside him rising to the surface, even with the damper on his power. “Glad to see the mask is off, at least.”
“You have the gall to question my priorities regarding Elain—yet what was your motive where I was concerned? Did you plan to spare me from your path of destruction because of any genuine friendship, or simply for fear of what it might do to her?”
His woods, by blood and law. He was a son of this forest, and here … He looked crafted from it. For it. Even that gold eye.
he waded into the stream, boots off and pants rolled to his knees, and caught one with his bare hands. He’d tied his hair up, a few strands of it falling into his face as he swooped down again and threw a second trout onto the sandy bank where I’d been trying to find a substitute for fishing twine. / Lucien picked them up by their tails, as if he’d done it a thousand times. He might very well have, right here in this stream. “I’ll clean them while you start the fire.” I
“As the youngest of seven sons, I wasn’t particularly needed or wanted. Perhaps it was a good thing. I was able to study for longer than my father allowed my brothers before shoving them out the door to rule over some territory within our lands, and I could train for as long as I liked, since no one believed I’d be dumb enough to kill my way up the long list of heirs. And when I grew bored with studying and fighting … I learned what I could of the land from its people. Learned about the people, too.” He eased to his feet with a groan, his unbound hair glimmering as the midday sun overhead set the blood and wine hues aglow. “I’d say that sounds more High-Lord-like than the life of an idle, unwanted son.” A long, steely look. “Did you think it was mere hatred that prompted my brothers to do their best to break and kill me?”
of all the sounds that Lucien so carefully sorted through while he kept watch.
he removed his cloak and added it over my blanket.
“Father,” the one now holding a knife to my throat said to Lucien, “is rather put out that you didn’t stop by to say hello.” “We’re on an errand and can’t be delayed,” Lucien answered smoothly, mastering himself.
he saw the sweat beading on my temple, my upper lip, as my blood heated. A slight bob of his chin was his only sign of understanding.
“Run,” I gasped out, but Lucien was already at my side, a steadying hand under my arm as I burned that flame hotter and hotter. It wouldn’t keep them contained for long, and I could indeed feel someone’s power rising to challenge mine. But there was another force to wield. Lucien understood the same moment I did. Sweat simmered on Lucien’s brow as a pulse of flame-licked power slammed into the stones just above us. Dust and debris rained down. I threw any trickle of magic into Lucien’s next blow. His next. / Lucien and I brought down the cave ceiling.
I’d been wearing my cloak, but … he’d indeed given me his. He shivered against the cold as we dragged and clawed our way up the mountain slope, and did not dare stop.
“Tell me about her—about Elain,” Lucien said quietly.
“And then I’ll ask your mate how he survived it—knowing you were engaged to someone else. Sharing another male’s bed.”
“You left us.” Us. Not Tamlin. Us. The words echoed into the dark,
"You fit into the Spring Court as little as I did, Lucien. You enjoyed its pleasures and diversions. But don’t pretend you weren’t made for something more than that.”
“Run,” Lucien breathed. / “Faster,” Lucien ordered. “Don’t look!” he barked as I began to turn my head to see if they’d followed. He lashed out a hand to grip my elbow, steadying me before I could even register that I’d stumbled. / “Zag,” Lucien panted. “We need to—” He shoved me aside, and I staggered, arms wheeling. Just as an arrow ricocheted off the ice where I’d been standing. “Faster,” Lucien snapped, and I didn’t hesitate.
Behind him, cut off by his brothers, Lucien had drawn his own knife and now sized up the other two.
I think Lucien shouted my name.
“Which one?” I asked carefully. Mor swept her attention over Lucien once more. I almost pitied Lucien for the weight in her gaze, the utter judgment. The stare of the Morrigan—whose gift was pure truth. Whatever she beheld in Lucien was enough for her to say, “The town house. You have someone waiting there for you.”
Lucien survey our surroundings.
But their watchful silence was indication enough: let him decide his own fate. At last, Lucien looked at me. At us. He said, “There are children laughing in the streets.” I blinked. He said it with such … quiet surprise. As if he hadn’t heard the sound in a long, long time.
“I see you brought home a new pet,” she said, nose crinkling with distaste. / Before I could introduce him, Lucien bowed at the waist. Deeply / Amren smiled slightly. “Already trained, I see.”
Lucien, to his credit, didn’t back away a step. From Rhys, or me, or the Illyrians. The Clever Fox Stares Down Winged Death. The painting flashed into my mind.
Lucien only shifted on his feet. Wary. Considering. I counted the heartbeats, debating how much I’d interfere if he said something truly stupid, when he at last murmured, “There is a longer story to be told, it seems.” Smart answer.
Lucien weighed my offer—and the three males monitoring his every blink and breath. He only nodded. Another wise decision.
“And you love him. And he—he truly does love you.” Lucien dragged a hand through his red hair. “And all these people I have spent my centuries hating, even fearing … They are your family.”
And yet there she was, acting more like a cranky old aunt than anything.”
But Lucien was standing in the doorway. And from the devastation on his face, I knew he’d heard every word. Seen and heard and felt the hollowness and despair radiating from her.
“I would never hurt her.” A bleak sort of honesty in his words.
We were almost to the door, Cassian already in the hall, when Lucien said to me, “Thank you.” I didn’t dare ask him for what.
"set up the handsome one as High Lord of Autumn"
“What did you do with yourself this afternoon?” “Slept,” he said. “Washed. Sat on my ass.”
His face was indeed controlled, but—a hint of surprise twinkled there. Wariness, too, but … surprise.
Lucien, standing near the windows and watching the sun set over Velaris, was wearing a fine green jacket embroidered with gold, his cream-colored pants showing off muscled thighs, and his knee-high black boots polished enough that the chandeliers of faelight reflected off them. He’d always had a casual grace about him, but here, tonight, with his hair tied back and jacket buttoned to his neck, he truly looked the part of a High Lord’s son. Handsome, powerful, a bit rakish—but well-mannered and elegant.
Lucien considered. “Can I offer my unsolicited advice?” / Lucien studied my mate, then me. “I assume Feyre is going.” / “Are you planning to hide her powers?” / Lucien studied me again, and it was an effort not to squirm. “My father would likely join with Hybern if he thought he stood a chance of getting his power back that way—by killing you.” / Lucien jerked his chin to Azriel. “That’s the information you need to gather. What my father knows—if my brothers realized what she was doing. You need to start from there, and build your plan for this meeting accordingly.”
Rhys swirled his wine once, set it down, and said to Lucien, “You and Azriel should talk. Tomorrow.” Lucien glanced toward the shadowsinger—who only nodded at him. “I’m at your disposal.”
He added to Lucien, who did not balk from those writhing shadows, “After lunch, we’ll meet.
“You trust Lucien.” Rhys angled his head at the not-quite question. “I trust in the fact that we currently have possession of the one thing he wants above all else. And as long as that remains, he’ll try to stay on our good side. But if that changes … His talent was wasted in the Spring Court. There was a reason he had that fox mask, you know.”
“He’s not a bad person—he’s not evil.” “He certainly isn’t.”
Too thin. She must not be eating at all. How can she even stand? The thoughts flowed through his head, one after another. His heart was a raging, thunderous beat, and he didn’t dare move from his position a mere five feet away. She hadn’t yet turned toward him, but the ravages of her fasting were evident enough. Touch her, smell her, taste her— The instincts were a running river. He fisted his hands at his sides.
Azriel seemed like a decent enough male
He tried to sound casual—comfortable. Even as his heart raced and raced, so swift he thought he might vomit on the very expensive, very old carpet. From Sangravah, if the patterns and rich dyes were any indication. Rhysand was many things, but he certainly had good taste. This entire place had been decorated with thought and elegance, with a penchant for comfort over stuffiness.
An ache like a blow to the chest went through him, but he crossed the rug. Forced his hands to be steady while he poured himself a cup of tea and sat in the chair opposite Nesta’s vacated one. “There’s a plate of biscuits. Would you like one?”
he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen.
Her eyes were the brown of a fawn’s coat.
“I am Lucien. Seventh son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.” And a whole lot of nothing. He’d told the shadowsinger all he knew—of his surviving brothers, of his father. His mother … he’d kept some details, irrelevant and utterly personal, to himself. Everything else—his father’s closest allies, the most conniving courtiers and lords … He’d handed it over. Granted, it was dated by a few centuries, but in his time as emissary, from the information he’d gathered, not much had changed. They’d all acted the same Under the Mountain, anyway. And after what had happened with his brothers a few days ago … There was no tinge of guilt when he told Azriel what he knew. None of what he felt when he looked toward the south—toward both of the courts he’d called home.
He fought against the bristling rage, the irrational urge to find the male who’d claimed her and shred him apart. The words were a rasp as he instead said, “I know. I’m sorry.”
He paused right between them and said to me, to Nesta, “She needs fresh air.” / “We’ll judge what she needs.” I could have sworn his ruby hair gleamed like molten metal as his temper rose. But it faded, his russet eye fixing on me. “Take her to the sea. Take her to some garden. But get her out of this house for an hour or two.” Then he walked away.
“Mother above,” Lucien said, dragging a hand through his hair.
Lucien had offered to make himself useful while we were gone by reading through some of the texts now piled on the tables throughout the sitting room.
But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.”
It wasn’t just about what he thought—it was the … feeling. I sensed no ill will, no conniving. Only concern for her. And … sorrow. Longing
Cassian had come off the roof at some point to join Lucien in the sitting room, the books from the wall spread on the low-lying table between them
It felt like days ago. I rested my head against the embroidered back of the chair and watched Lucien take a seat on the rolled arm of the nearest couch. “Long day?” I grunted my response.
He weighed my tone, and crossed his arms. “Let me do something. About Elain. I heard—from my room. Everything that happened just now. It wouldn’t hurt to have a healer look her over. Externally and internally.” I was tired enough that I could barely summon the breath to ask, “Do you think the Cauldron made her insane?” “I think she went through something terrible,” Lucien countered carefully. “And it wouldn’t hurt to have your best healer do a thorough examination.”
“Please tell me,” Lucien said when I crossed the threshold into the foyer. “What the healer says. And if—if you need me for anything.”
Madja didn’t deign to answer Nesta until we were at the bottom of the steps. Lucien was already waiting in the sitting room, Mor still lingering in the dining room. Both of them rose to their feet.
Lucien muttered something about not needing to be monitored, and we all looked at him with raised brows. He just lifted his hands, claimed he wanted to freshen up, and headed down the hall.
The sound seemed to startle Elain, who swiftly set down her teacup. She rose to her feet, and Lucien shot to his. “I’m sorry,” he blurted. “What—what was that?” “It—it was a tug. On the bond.” / Then Nesta was standing in the threshold. “What did you do.” The words were as sharp as a blade. Lucien looked to her, then over to me. A muscle feathered in his jaw. “Nothing,” he said, and again faced his mate. “I’m sorry—if that unsettled you.” Elain sidled toward Nesta, who seemed to be at a near-simmer. “It felt … strange,” Elain breathed. “Like you pulled on a thread tied to a rib.” Lucien exposed his palms to her. “I’m sorry.”
“And I got to Elain’s end of it when she ran off.” “Did you sense anything?” “No—I didn’t have time. I felt her, but …” A blush stained his cheek.
Lucien’s attention slid behind me, to the various letters on different styles and makes of paper. That golden eye narrowed. As Tamlin’s emissary, he no doubt recognized them. “Let me guess: they said yes, but picking the location is now going to be the headache.” Mor frowned. “Any suggestions?” Lucien tied back his hair with a strap of brown leather. “Do you have a map?”
Lucien had indeed given us an initial location, and several more when those were struck down. But that was to be expected, Lucien had said, as if he’d arranged such things countless times. Rhys had only nodded in agreement—and approval.
Especially since Lucien had left before breakfast for a library across the city to look up anything in regard to fixing the wall, a task I’d been more than willing to hand over. I might have felt guilty for never giving him a proper tour of Velaris, but … he seemed eager. More than eager—he seemed to be itching to head into the city on his own.
Lucien, stationed by the front window, turned from watching the street. Monitoring it. A sword and dagger hung from his belt. No humor, no warmth graced his face—only fierce, grim determination.
“I’ll go.” Lucien was staring at Elain as he spoke. We all looked at him. Lucien shifted his focus to Rhys, to me. “I’ll go,” he repeated, rising to his feet. “To find this sixth queen.” / “What makes you think you could find her?” Rhys asked. Not rudely, but—from a commander’s perspective. Sizing up the skills Lucien offered against the risks, the potential benefits. “This eye …” Lucien gestured to the metal contraption. “It can see things that others … can’t. Spells, glamours … Perhaps it can help me find her. And break her curse.” He glanced at Elain, who was again studying her lap. “I’m not needed here. I’ll fight if you need me to, but …” He offered me a grim smile. “I do not belong in the Autumn Court. And I’m willing to bet I’m no longer welcome at h—the Spring Court.” Home, he had almost said. “But I cannot sit here and do nothing. Those queens with their armies—there is a threat in that regard, too. So use me. Send me. I will find Vassa, see if she can … bring help.” / “You will be going into the human territory,” Rhys warned. “I can’t spare a force to guard you—” “I don’t need one. I travel faster on my own.” His chin lifted. “I will find her. And if there’s an army to bring back, or at least some way for her own story to sway the human forces … I’ll find a way to do that, too.” My friends glanced to each other. Mor said, “It will be—very dangerous.” A half smile curved Lucien’s mouth. “Good. It’d be boring otherwise.”
Lucien had indeed been studying all those maps lately. Perhaps at the quiet behest of whatever force had guided us all. My mate added, “Thank you.” Lucien shrugged. And it was that gesture alone that made me say at last, “Are you sure?” He only glanced at Elain, whose face was again a calm void while she traced a finger over the embroidery on the couch cushions. “Yes. Let me help in whatever way I can.”
I asked Lucien, “When do you want to leave?” “Tomorrow.” I hadn’t heard him sound so assertive in … a long time. “I’ll prepare for the rest of today, and leave after breakfast tomorrow morning.” He added to Rhys, “If that works for you.”
Cassian had given him free rein yesterday afternoon to loot his personal cache of weapons, though my friend had been economical about which ones he’d selected. The blade, plus a short sword, plus an assortment of daggers. A quiver of arrows and an unstrung bow were tied to his pack.
“You know precisely where you want Rhys to take you?” I asked at last. Lucien nodded, glancing to where my mate now waited by the front door. He’d bring Lucien to the edge of the human continent—to wherever Lucien had decided would be the best landing spot. No farther, Azriel had insisted. His reports indicated it was too watched, too dangerous. Even for one of our own. Even for the most powerful High Lord in history.
“It was time,” Lucien said quietly, giving me a squeeze. “For me to do something.”
Rhys extended a hand to Lucien. Lucien studied it—then my mate’s face. I could nearly see all the hateful words they’d spoken. Dangling between them, between that outstretched hand and Lucien’s own. But Lucien took Rhys’s hand. That silent offer of not only transportation.
Their gazes locked and held. / Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye—the longing and sadness.
“I—heard the rumors and assumed Lucien Vanserra would be residing there after … what happened.” She still didn’t look at Tamlin, who remained silent and brooding. “I managed to contact him a few days ago—asked him to send samples. He did—and did not tell you,” she added quickly to Rhysand, “because he did not want to raise your hopes. Not until I’d found a solution.” No wonder he’d been so eager to head alone into Velaris that day he’d gone to help us research. I shot a look at Rhys. Seems like Lucien can still play the fox. Rhys didn’t look at me, though his lips twitched as he replied, Indeed.
The Lady of Autumn’s favorite son—not only from Lucien’s goodness. But because he was the child she’d dreamed of having … with the male she undoubtedly loved.
His power is flame, though. They’ve mused Beron’s title could go to him. His mother’s family is strong—that was why Beron wanted a bride from their line. The gift could be hers.
Other than the fact that Lucien might be Helion’s sole heir.
“Lucien,” I breathed. “Who?” Drakon’s brows narrowed. “Oh, the male with the eye. No. He met up with them later on—told them where to go. To come now, actually. So pushy, you Prythian males.
Lucien, haggard and bloody, panting for breath. As if he’d run from the shore. His gaze settled on Elain, and he sagged a little.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, coming toward us. Spying the blood speckling Elain’s hands.
“Well, I never want to fight in another battle as long as I live, but … yes, I’m in one piece.” A faint smile bloomed on Elain’s lips. But Lucien noticed that scorched patch of grass behind us and said, “I heard—what happened. I’m sorry for your loss. All of you.”
“I’ve got one hell of a story to tell you,” he said, squeezing me tightly. “And don’t be surprised if Vassa corners you as soon as the ships are sorted. And the sun sets.” “Is she really—” “Yes. But your father, ever the negotiator …” / “The human queens are still out there,” I said. Maybe I’d hunt them down. “Not for long—not if Vassa has anything to do with it.” “You sound like an acolyte.” Lucien blushed, glancing at Elain. “She’s got a foul temper and a fouler mouth.” He cut me a wry look. “You’ll get along just fine.” I nudged him in the ribs. But Lucien again looked at that singed grass, and his blood-splattered face turned solemn. “He was a good man,” he said. “He loved you all very much.”
Elain fell into step beside me, peering at Lucien. He noticed it. “I heard you made the killing blow,” he said.
I said to him, “So where now? Off with Vassa?” I wondered if he’d heard of Tamlin’s role—the help he’d given us. A look at my friend showed me he had. Someone, perhaps my mate, had informed him. Lucien shrugged. “First—here. To help. Then …” Another glance at Elain. “Who knows?” I nudged Elain, who blinked at me, then blurted, “You could come to Velaris.” He saw all of it, but nodded graciously. “It would be my pleasure.”
Tamlin just shook his head, loathing simmering in his green eyes, and walked past. Not a word. I looked at Lucien in time to see the guilt, the devastation, flicker in that russet eye.
But Lucien remained standing with us as Tamlin found his place in the sitting room to our right. Did not glance at his friend even once. Lucien wasn’t foolish enough to beg for forgiveness.
I didn’t dare look through the ruined doorway to where Lucien now stood in the sitting room, close to Elain’s side
Lucien had remained behind to help with any of the human wounded still needing Fae healing
Another tidbit that Lucien had told us.
Send Lucien then. As our human emissary.
"Where's our dear friend Lucien?" "Off hunting for dinner."
"You brought presents". "It's Solstice tradition here, but isn't it?"
An uncontrollable instinct - for a male to eliminate any threat. But he remained sitting. Even as his fingers dug into the arms of his chair
Somehow in living with Jurian and Vassa in the manor, he'd run into Elain's former betrothed. And managed to leave the human lord breathing.
The corded muscle of his forearm shifted beneath the fine silk of his sapphire jacket.
"He is a good male", I repeated.
He raised his fist to the door, but the wooden slab pulled away before he could touch it. Lucien’s scarred, handsome face appeared, his golden eye whirring. “I thought I sensed someone else arriving.”
The male had grown up alongside Eris. Had dealt with Eris’s and Beron’s cruelty. Had his lover slaughtered by his own father. But Lucien had learned to keep his cool.
He had to give Lucien credit: the male was somehow able to move between his three roles—an emissary for the Night Court, ally to Jurian and Vassa, and liaison to Tamlin—and still dress immaculately.
“Easy,” Lucien said. Cassian snarled. “Easy,” Lucien repeated, and flame sizzled in his russet eye. The flame, the surprising dominance within it, hit Cassian like a stone to the head, knocking him from his need to kill and kill and kill whatever might threaten—
“No. But we need to summon Lucien,” Azriel said, just a shade tightly, as if he didn’t like it one bit. “We need to tell him the news, and permanently station him at the Spring Court to contain any damage and to be our eyes and ears.”
Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing.
#acotar lucien#pro lucien vanserra#lucien supremacy#lucien acotar#pro lucien#lucien spell cleaver#high king lucien#lucienweek2023#He's hot#He's smart#He's witty#He's cunning#He's entertaining#He's a friend to women#He's loyal to his mate#He's got a shit ton of power#He's brave#He learns from his mistakes#He's strong and muscular#He could carry a book on his own at this point
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Sorry for the ask. My brain craves HTTYD-based interaction and the shadowban on my sideblog won’t be lifted for at least a month.
I think the first movie is so special in comparison to everything else. Not only because of Hiccup and Toothless, but because of the dragon riders. They all act so different — like Snotlout is sort of like the leader, Astrid gets along with the twins over the idea of getting a scar in training.
They all just seem to be pretending to be something to all fit in with one another (except, maybe, the twins? Maybe?) and I think one of the main reasons they reject Hiccup is not only because he’s a complete clutz (two left feet, that’s why he lost one) but also because he, too, is pretending… just not well enough. (This mostly goes for Astrid and Snotlout and a bit for the twins, arguably the only one nice to Hiccup is Fishlegs but he’s also pretending to hate dragons, so… I guess this also applies to him.) (I suppose the only one who ever never really dropped the act was Snotlout, which would be why he’s suddenly put in the underdog’s position in the group, even if it’s mostly just seen in the TV shows.)
(Plus, it’s the only one I haven’t got on DVD and I only rewatched it today when it was on TV exclusively for that minute long scene of Snotlout taming Hookfang because I couldn’t find a clip of it on YouTube. Really says a lot about me.)
Yeah. I just think the group dynamics in the first movie are very special. It (from dynamics and atmosphere) just feels so different to the rest of the franchise, including the other two films.
hi! sorry for taking so long! i'm not used to being asked for questions abt this kind of stuff!! i'm usually the one doing the asking or i lurk a bit akdjsjdks
but no u have points abt the dynamics between the gang in the first movie. smth i noticed while rewatching it with some friends is in the beginning when snotlout is making fun of hiccup for messing up the raid through his wrecklessness (tee hee), snotlout after he gets shoved down by gobber, gets back up, and laughs, and looks to astrid. she was also smiling at him, as was fishlegs, as he & the twins made fun of & laughed at hiccup. and then they all just. move on & snotlout deflates
this tiny little smile says SOOOOOO much <3
smth tho i noticed u said is that snotlout is kind of the leader, however the film has astrid be at the center & front of the gang or them all looking to her or making sure she is the one they listen to bc she is the leader of the gang. she's THE ideal model viking bc she has to be. snotlout is the most vocal & the second best by far in training, & similar to how he is in the shows & other films he's pushing himself towards the front when he can to get the attention of others & be taken seriously or to be seen as another model viking (like impressing astrid)
there's an intimacy abt astrid & the gang in the first movie that just hasn't fully shown in the other two films or even the shows with tiny details of them fiddling in the background or even the foreground of a scene when someone else is talking & u see them interact. the great hall when tuffnut is playing with his knife before saying "wait? you mean READ?" astrid is amused by him playing with the knife.
but what you said abt them all pretending: they are. fishlegs is still seen as weird but he's friends & in with the gang. he loves dragon knowledge & knowing abt them, but it's for the art of the kill instead of simply knowing them as creatures. the twins love destruction but with all the talk of being on a team & working together with other vikings they bicker more with each other & end up not getting as far bc they get focused on their own shenanigans. snotlout is trying to show astrid he's the model viking & be a flirty teenage boy at the same time lmao. astrid is the one who changes first when everyone saw her as the most steadfast in her ways. The Viking Way™️.
snotlout in the shows becoming the "underdog" is bc he's not astrid, who learned & changed herself but now is such a tryhard she applies herself to the fullest extent in the opposite direction (i love her). fishlegs can actually enjoy dragons & learn abt them without having to fight them (he's the most skittish of the gang), the twins now have direct ways to blow things up & do their shenanigans (after also having learned to work in a team!!!) without worry of there being a war against the dragons (now just other ppl but ppl can't breathe fire... right? lmao). hiccup is the newest edition of the group, the circle, & now he's just?? the leader. they look to him now after snotlout did everything to get astrid & others attention. astrid is by hiccup's side 100% now & bites back at snotlout when she didn't before. snotlout has changed & loves hookfang, he loves dragons, but he doesn't want to change the Viking Way™️ he's known & tries to force the Old Ways™️ and New Ways™️ together in a way that moreso clashes. he wants to still be at the top but forces instead of working to his advantage. his jealousy of hiccup grows to a point where he's basically self destructing in acting out & causes (unintentional) harm to others but then brushes off the consequences of his actions. & then he learns. he's slower to the take, similar to the adults, but he's also got it more quickly than they ever could. he just hasn't stopped pretending like the other kids.
smth i love abt the first film is the explanation as to why the gang all have american/canadian accents (bc of jay baruchel lmao) vs the scottish accents of the adults. to show the generational difference. they are different from the adults & a very clear distinction is made by the accents of their voices. you can almost say hiccup having the most jarring of everyone's voice (so nasally & distinct) ties in with hiccup being the leader. he commands attention but not in the way that's expected. even "the more viking-like teens" (as gobber refers to them) have distinct voices & even if they're acting how the village expects.
it's not rlly them, is it? not fully at least.
guess sometimes you need a little guidance, & it can come from the most unexpected places. maybe someone who's been in a leader position can give you a little extra push
& even if you're afraid & don't adjust to the change 100%, you can start coming out of your shell & stop pretending. some stop pretending easier than others, & some ppl are stuck in a lot of their ways. but they still feel they can relax abt smth & stop pretending abt that.
it makes everyone happier, right? :)
#sorry this got super like.#idk if preachy is the right word#but idk if this is what u were hoping for#but i love looking at overall arcs & decisions & how characters are#the message it can potentially convey#httyd#eemoo1o#rose answers#hiccup haddock#astrid hofferson#snotlout jorgenson#tuffnut thorston#ruffnut thorston#fishlegs ingerman#sorry for not mentioning toothless & the other dragons 😭 i didn't want this to be too long & they'd be a whole other essay#long post#em tag
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Pregnancy Troubles - Part 1
A biting pain shot through her abdomen as Astrid was finishing the plates. She bit her lip to keep from making a pained sound. Her hand slid over her large belly; she was now at the beginning of the fifth month. “Astrid, is everything okay with you?” Astrid flinched for a brief moment, but in a matter of seconds found herself in the warm brown-green eyes of her mother Ingrid. “Yes, mother, I’m fine, just a little kick from the baby I think.”Her mother smiled gently and stroked her shoulder as she went back to the table where Valka, Eret, Grobber, Astrid's husband Hiccup, her two children and Astrid's father Magnus were sitting. Eret was just about to tell some of his stories about what it was like to live as a dragon hunter under the control of Drago Bloodfist. Astrid was just about to sit down at the table again when that breakneck pain shot through her abdomen again. She suppressed a gasp and grabbed the kitchen island for support. She caught Hiccup's eye, who seemed to have noticed her hesitation. Concern was reflected in his emerald green eyes again as she sat down next to him. He immediately reached for her hand. "What's wrong?" he whispered. “I…” Astrid was about to start when she was interrupted by Grobber’s loud yawn. “Eret, I think we should then?” His husband nodded and the two of them stood up to leave. Hiccup's mother followed suit. Zephyr and Nuffink, who had just been sitting snuggled up to their grandmother, rushed over to their parents. Hiccup took the tired Nuffink in his arms as they all went to the door to say goodbye and thank you for dinner. However, before Hiccup could walk out the door, he was stopped by his father-in-law, whose eyes were as blue as Astrid's and whose hair was also the same color as hers. He's as tall as Hiccup, but in contrast to his son-in-law, he could be compared to an ox because of his stature. Astrid's mother, on the other hand, was the complete opposite, small and petite with mousey brown hair. “Hiccup, I just wanted to say thank you again. I know I said this on your wedding day, but I couldn't have asked for a better son-in-law to take better care of my daughter." A soft smile danced across Astrid's lips as she watched her father and her husband while holding Zephyr's hand held. Her father had always had a problem with all boys who were interested in Astrid, but he immediately accepted Hiccup - or rather, immediately took him to his heart. "Thanks, Magnus, that means I fell," Hiccup smiled. Magnus patted Hiccup on the shoulder with his strong arms before walking over to Astrid.
There were only a few lights burning in the village as the little family made their way home, accompanied by a warm breeze. "So what did you want to tell me earlier?" Hiccup asked impatiently. Astrid, who had leaned her head on his shoulders, murmured: "I'll tell you when we've put the children to bed." Hiccup nodded and unlocked the front door to their House. After the two had put their children to bed, Hiccup helped his wife force herself into her nightgown. “So, Astrid, tell me,” he urged, his hand running over her bulging stomach. “I had pain in my abdomen,” she confessed to him. His eyes widened in horror and she felt him pull her closer to him. “But I’m okay now, I hope,” she assured him. “Please tell me immediately if you feel the pain again, okay?” he asked. Astrid nodded. "I will," she said, placing a loving kiss on Hiccup's cheek. “Come on now, I want to go to sleep.” A small smile played on his lips as he followed his wife into bed, where they cuddled together and fell asleep. She woke up with a start in the middle of the night, the pain in her abdomen worse than before. It burned like someone was plunging a cold knife into her warm flesh. The hair on her neck stood on, end followed by cold beads of sweat running down her temple. She gasped in agony, blackness filling the edges of her eyes. She had to wake Hiccup up. Immediately. “Hiccup, please wake up!” She barely had to wait a minute before her husband sat up in bed. He lit a candle. He stroked her arm. “Are you in pain again?” She nodded. "Good, I'll get your mother immediately." With these words he sprinted out of the room. Astrid struggled to get herself to the edge of the bed, trying to control her breathing and prevent herself from sinking into the darkness. “It’s all good, my little one, we can do it,” she whispered to her stomach. “We can do it. You can do it.” “Mommy?” Astrid spun around in shock, Zephyr and Nuffink were standing at the door. Hiccup probably accidentally woke them up when he stormed out of the house.
To be contioued….
#httyd fanfiction#pregstrid#hiccup haddock#hiccstrid#astrid haddock#zephyr haddock#nuffink haddock#pregnancy#pregnant#astrids family#haddock family
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So um… I did a thingy:
Snotlout watched as Drago screamed Bloody Mary at his poor dragon causing Hookfang to bow down slowly, he cried out his poor dragon's name as Drago put a foot down over his snout! Snotlout begged for him to stop, but the monster of a man didn’t listen.
He looked at Eret as the muscular man was being interrogated but his face of traitorous rage turned to confusion as he saw just how terrified the man was.
Astrid butt in ranting about Berk’s tracking dragons as Eret desperately tried to motion for her to stop. After what he’d heard, Drago ordered his army to stop all preparations, they were going to take down the ‘nest’ and then… go after Berk!
Snotlout snapped back to his senses as he realized they had taken some of his secret knives, but definitely not all of them. He discretely reached inside his secret pocket of his leggings as they walked the ship, away from Drago, and pulled out a knife… he cut at his bindings carefully until he was loose! He began talking confidently.
“Y’know Eret… as traitorous as you’ve been I have to hand it to you, you're a very skilled fighter.” Eret looked extremely baffled as did the rest of the group. The recruits eyed him suspiciously, but brushed it off as delirium. Snotlout continued.
“I mean you could probably work with anything right? An ax, a spear, a knife…” Now everyone was extremely confused as he put extra emphasis on the small weapon. Eret was catching on.
“Sure…?” He stated
“And I bet you could wrestle anything!” He said his next words slowly, eyeing Eret, who smirked. “A bear, a dragon, a DUCK!” He shouted as he threw his knife at Eret, allowing him to free himself. Eret began attacking immediately, swapping the knife for two spears from a knocked out soldier using them to free the others. Snotlout jumped into the fray, attacking endlessly.
Eventually the troops were all unconscious or dead and everyone rushed to the dragon traps to rescue their dragons. Snotlout bolted to the largest trap secretly, where he hoped his monstrous nightmare was.
—/—
Snotlout opened the cage and jumped down to see a chained down, bone dry, monstrous nightmare.
“HOOKY!” He whispered. “What did they do to you! They must’ve taken away your gel huh?” The short Viking cooed his poor dragon. “I promise we’re going to eat like kings when we get home! Promise!” Hookfang looked up a little, gratefully.
“Alright let’s get you out hmm?” Snotlout smirked as he unchained his dragon watching as he slowly stood and right has he thought they were going to leave, the noir rtte was scooped by his dragon and gently nuzzled for a long time, play wrestling and bringing the Viking to tears that his best friend was here.
Snotlout touched his snout and Hookfang recoiled. Shifting back a few feet.
“Hooky…?” Snotlout immediately realized the problem. “Hookfang! I promise it’s me! Not Drago!” They both flinched at the e name.
“I swear Fangster, no one with any sense will ever do that to you again!” He walked gently and quietly to his dragon, reaching out his hand to his snout looking away.
Snotlout had never known what it was like to be Hiccup… but in that moment, the fear of rejection and death that would follow if this didn’t work, suddenly made him feel sorry all over again for how he’d treated the future chief.
But then, Hookfang hesitantly moved his snout to connect with his rider’s hands. Snotlout nearly melted at the touch, tears coming to his eyes.
The dragon pulled back and for a second, the noir rtte worried he’d done something wrong until he was flipped in the air, landing on Hookfang’s saddle!
The nightmare squeaked at him and Snotlout patted him reassuringly.
“Don’t worry, I won’t mention anything to the others!” He rolled his eyes as Hooky purred in agreement. Snotlout smirked.
“Now, LET’S GO KICK DRAGO’S ASS!” He roared and Hookfang darted out of the trap and onto the battlefield where the other riders were soon to join them.
“TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH SNOTLOUT!” Astrid shouted over the wind, Eret attempting to ride Stormfly directly infringe of her.
“Teaching on the fly! I like it!” He stated sarcastically,
“but yeah we needed a bit of… catch up time.”
Astrid shrugged and the two went their separate ways destroying all the traps that dare cross the riders.
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD
I love this so freakin much you have no idea. Snotlout and Hookfang's relationship is one of my favorite dragon/rider relationships in the entire franchise but it doesn't get a whole lot of attention outside of a few episodes of the tv shows (which I love) but it is so refreshing to see the little interactions and moments that they totally had in the time spanned by the movies too.
This is just so good. I love Hookfang being apprehensive and scared and Snotlout softly comforting him and reminding him that he would never hurt him. I love Snotlout being the one to turn the tables on Drago's minions and to start setting them all free.
It's kinda like the characterizations of Snotlout and Hooky was pulled from RTTE to HTTYD 2 and it is so freakin good
#thank you for showing me this omg#i've read it like 3 times now lol#may sound a little redundant but i love it so much it's so good#this is awesome#if you write anything else i'd LOVE to see it omg#httyd fic#httyd fic rec#httyd#snotlout#hookfang#snotlout and hookfang#snotlout & hookfang#thank you for the ask <3
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Henwen: *Killed Grelod out of pure anger and hatred that someone could treat children so cruelly, no clue of any contract involving the dark brotherhood, only to wake up confused and lethargic after being drugged by Astrid and waking up in the abandoned shack in the middle of a swamp. Still in his pjs, aware he’s in danger and instinctively putting on the blind snow elf damsel act* m-my head- k-Kaidan- Kaidan my love where are you? I f-fell out of bed again- I can’t- I feel dizzy- where are you?
Astrid: Sleep well?
Henwen: *jumps and snaps his head in her direction but purposefully avoids looking directly at her but rather around her like he’s pretending he can’t see her* H-hello? Whose there? Who are you? Wh-where’s my husband? M-my guards?
Astrid: *falls for it immediately taking in the pitiful fragile bodied and seemingly blind elf before her, thinks Nazir gave her the wrong target* I’m in front of you… I’m here because you took a contract from the brotherhood. You killed Grelod the kind, the old woman who ran the orpha-
Henwen: K-killed?! N-no! My husband and I adopted our daughter Sissel from there! We- what- what’s going on here! Where are you?! *reaches out weakly and fumbles about like he’s one of the few blinded falmer who may or met not have survived only to stagger back in a ‘panic’ upon touching one of the hostages* WH-WHERE AM I?! KAIDAN?! KAIDAAAAAAN!!!
The hostages: *confused panicking*
Astrid: *now fully believing there’s been a horrible mistake and now she needs to clean up the mess* I’m so very sorry for this. This has been a terrible misunderstanding… *draws her dagger and walks to him towards him to cut his throat, fully believing he’s blind* Let me fix th-
Henwen: *suddenly launches forward and grabs her by the throat, filling her with electricity as he grabs her dagger and stabs her In the chest*
Astrid: *gargles and gasps for breath looking at him with terror in her eyes as she realises she was deceived* y-you…
Henwen: *smirks watching her body go limp* That’s payback for drugging me you bi- *pauses hearing Kaidans soft voice in a panic from behind the door*
Kaidan: My love?! Stand back I’m going to break down the door!
Henwen: *drops to his knees and pretends to be scared all over again, shakily holding the knife still in Astrid’s chest as the door is suddenly broken down* K-Kai? Is- is that you?
Kaidan: *disheveled and distressed as he stares at his blood stained husband* Wendy?! My wendy are you okay?! My darling answer me! *drops to his knees and takes the knife from his hands shoving it further into the assassins body only so he can pull his beloved safe into his arms* I’m so sorry, they drugged me! I woke up days ago! I tracked you here, I was so scared I’d lost you!
Henwen: *no longer pretending to be blind but keeping up his helpless little prince act* I- I was so scared- I woke up and everything hurt! I thought- I- and she- she tried to kill me… I- *looks at the blood on his hands and hugs into him as he starts to cry* t-take me home…. Please…
Kaidan: yes… but… *realises all three hostages may be privy to his husbands act of murder, provoked or not* … *picks Henwen up gently and sets him outside* one moment… my love…
#henwen dragonborn#falmer dragonborn#told y’all he was manipulative to get his way 👀 he has good reason to as well#Kaidan skyrim#Skyrim#ocs#astrid skyrim
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Childhood Coincidences
Summary: The Second Chapter to Crushed.
Warning: Sick fic
Rating: General
Characters: Hiccup, Snotlout, Toothless, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Astrid, Fishlegs
Pairing: /
Words: /
Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon
Prompt: Crying to sleep
Whumpee: Hiccup, Snotlout
Author’s Notes: /
@ailesswhumptober
XOXOX
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that his ribs are terribly broken and not much could be done for them. Ice is found, crushed, and wrapped in cloth to put over that swollen knee until it melts. And Fishlegs decides to give Hiccup every pain killer under the sun within reason. Only alleviating his pain and providing support can help as it’ll help him breathe easier, yet also keep his ribs in place. At the same time, they prevent pneumonia. Especially after all the lungfuls of water he inhaled.
There were trying days in which the Riders kept him company constantly- he could barely get out of bed- and could not get him to admit why he refused to let them help him that first day.
If this alliance is to work, there should be no room for life-threatening secrets. Hiccup is entirely dependent on them for the time being, he needs them.
Until eventually, the worst does happen.
“And you’re sure it’s pneumonia?” Astrid asks quietly, a hand in her hair. Fishlegs nods solemnly. They’re still in Hiccup’s hut.
“If we don’t get Gothi to him now, he stands no chance,” they are dire words, but it’s the truth. Pneumonia can’t be left untreated, they simply can’t chance it. This illness is often fatal.
All day, Hiccup has been shivering and sweating because of a high fever. His breaths are once again short and shallow, every intake is like a knife stabbing into his lungs, as if the fractured ribs weren’t already troublesome enough. His coughing is moist, his mucus so thick he chokes if he doesn’t get it all up, which is extremely difficult. Pain killers aren’t enough, they need something for that cough, lest it be the reason a rib finally gets displaced.
Just as they’re talking about it, a new wave of coughing flares up and Toothless helps him sit up. It sounds like he’s choking and his face grows red trying to get it all out, tears streams down his cheeks. Watching him makes them cringe and if it looks that bad to them, they can’t imagine what it’s like to be the one to cough.
“We should go. Now. Ready Stormfly and Meatlug,” Astrid decides, taking command as Hiccup hasn’t been able to lead them since the rescue mission.
-XOXOX-
With Astrid and Fishlegs gone on a four-day flight to and from Berk, it leaves Snotlout in charge of the twins. They, too, can see how bad Hiccup is doing. For once, the Edge is left in their responsible hands.
Wringing out a soaked cloth, Snotlout replaces it on Hiccup’s forehead. He’s been in and out of sleep, his cheeks a bright red from the fever and his undertunic wet through and through, hair matted and sticking flat to his skull. He’s shivering, but they can’t use any of their furs, it wouldn’t do his fever good, they’d just be cooking him alive.
It’s quiet. There’s a fire burning downstairs to keep the hut warm. Toothless is curled up on one side of the bed while Snotlout sits on a stool at the other.
“It’s been so long… since I’ve last felt this bad,” Hiccup breathes, laying a hand on the cloth as if trying to become one with the slight relief it provides. His head is pounding.
Another cough breaks free, Toothless’ head snaps up, Snotlout helps him sit up, arms around him.
“Oh Gods,” Hiccup moans miserably. His difficulty breathing, his pain, and his illness all get to him again. He is in a truly horrible state. So when he moans and tears slip free, Snotlout really can’t blame him.
He tries his best to suppress the sobs threatening to break free, the jolts of his body only make things worse.
“You mean, you haven’t felt this awful since your leg?” Snotlout asks helpfully, trying to distract him as he lets him back down gently and Hiccup look up at him in confusion.
“My leg?” He sniffs, apparently he can’t remember losing an entire limb.
“No, I’m… I’m talking about when we were kids… You know, when… When I was sick all the time?” Snotlout raises an eyebrow. He takes the cloth back to soak it again. “Every winter… It felt like I’d die, but I didn’t.”
He freezes mid-wring.
“What do you mean you almost died when we were kids?”
Toothless comes up and purrs down at Hiccup, nuzzling him and distracting him.
“I know, Bud… I need sleep,” his Rider tries to roll onto his side, only to be met with more pain. He moans and that gets him to cough again.
Snotlout doesn’t help. He can’t, overcome with shock and questions. Luckily, Toothless is there to help out. He ends up crying until he finally dozes off, released from his awful reality.
-XOXOX-
Later that evening, Snotlout met with Ruffnut and Tuffnut in the newly finished clubhouse. It was time for them to take over his shift, so he could start dinner. It was his turn tonight.
The place is a mess, the twins have clearly been up to something, but when Snotlout walks in, they’re quiet.
“How is our fearless leader?” Ruffnut asks, but Snotlout just walks right past her and to the kitchen. The twins share a look.
“Uh, hello?” Ruffnut calls after him. “How is he?”
Snotlout stops, but not to answer her question.
“What do you guys remember about Hiccup’s disappearance?”
“Uh, which one? We know more than one,” Tuffnut shrugs.
“There is a surprising amount of Hiccups in our little corner of the word. Berk even had three!” Ruffnut helpfully adds.
“Hiccup The third. Stoick’s kid.”
Brother and sister look deep in thought, arms crossing and hands on their hips, a thoughtful expression on both of their faces.
“She got taken by a dragon, right? She was always disappearing into the forest, Astrid tracked her to this one cove, but one day she just didn’t come back. Stoick’s kid, not Astrid. Astrid came back.”
“Yeah, it was right before dragon training ended, too. She was doing a really good job.”
“We told Stoick about the cove, but all we found were signs that a dragon was there once. And Hiccup’s knife in the lake.”
Snotlout crosses his arms, a contemplative look to him. “You remember what those signs were?”
“Scales, fish bones, patches of burnt grass, a broken tree… You know, like a fight had broken out. And then we found Hiccup’s knife in the water,” Ruffnut repeats. But no body, which is why they’re trusting Hiccup the Dragon Master- or Feralcup, if one is nasty- to know where Hiccup the Lost Princess might’ve gone.
With a troubled expression, Snotlout continues on to the kitchen in the back and neither Ruff nor Tuff follow him. They simply look at one another and Tuffnut shruggs.
Snotlout is glad that they’re not following him, he needs to think.
What the Dragon Master just told him was a story of their childhood. When Snotlout was a wee lad and would watch as Stoick would keep his daughter indoors for the dozenth time that year because she was born much too early and that made her a sickly child.
Did the Dragon Master have a similar childhood?
Grabbing pots, Snotlout finds himself trying to remember their heir. It's been only three years, yet his memories of her are quite vague.
At 15, she had those round cheeks, like the baby fat hadn't all quite left her. There was barely anything on her, scrawny as she was. Her hair when not braided- she hated having her hair done- and came down to her butt. He admittedly thought she was at least a little cute back in the day, even though she was far from a warrior. She's nothing like the sickly man currently confined to his bed.
For one, he's a guy, there's no mistaking that. There's not an ounce of baby fat in his cheeks and his hair is significantly redder from spending all his time in the open sun, not to mention it's considerably shorter. And again, he’s very obviously a guy.
So that is what this must be then; a coincidence. Maybe Snotlout reminds him of someone from his own tribe before he lost it and that’s why he said what he said.
Snotlout grabs the ingredients for their dinner for tonight and for Hiccup’s soup. The thoughts continue to plague him, no matter how hard he tries to push them away.
This has to be a coincidence. It just has to be.
#ailesswhumptober2023#ailesswhumptober#day 15#alt prompt#crying to sleep#httyd fics#httyd movies#rtte#race to the edge#au#alternate universe#hiccup left berk au#trans!hiccup au#hiccup haddock#hiccup whump#toothless#hicctooth#snotlout jorgenson#snotlout whump#ruffnut thorston#tuffnut thorston#astrid hofferson#fishlegs ingerman#hiccup and the dragon riders#my fanfics#crushed#childhood coincidences
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Even as the the men on the other side of the wall chipped away with hammer and chisel, causing yet more of the crumbling brickwork to fall away, Nancy put her hands into the cavity that the girls had made on the other side of the wall the previous afternoon and, as delicately as possible, lifted out the mysterious casket. Bess and George watched the whole procedure holding their breath. The titian-haired girl sleuth breathed a sigh of relief as she completed the manoeuvre, and remained amazed that these suspicious-looking characters had actually enabled her to retrieve the biggest clue to solving the mystery. The question facing the trio, silently acknowledged by all of them as Nancy passed the casket into the hands of Bess, was should they try to capture the trespassers apparently looking for the artefact too, or simply head off silently now with their prize and take it to the police? Nancy looked at her friends. Although both Bess and George were brave and determined, the odds were not good. There were at least three men on the other side of the wall and the young women had nothing to threaten them with to induce an unlikely surrender, beyond a small pocket knife. Nancy was about to signal to the others to make for the woods when suddenly the decision was made for them.
With a sudden crash, a brick fell loose, disturbed by the chisel from the other side. Suddenly there was a hole in the wall and Nancy found herself gazing into the blue eyes of the man wielding the hammer. The enterprising female mystery-solver thought on her feet. Staring back at the befuddled intruder, Nancy suddenly shouted clearly: “You men stay where you are! We are detectives!” One of the men behind the one with the chisel cried out: “Cops! Run!” Picking up their cue from Nancy, Bess and George leapt forward and ran round the crumbling wall to face their foes. One man took one look at the advancing girls and took off. A second tried to follow suit, but Bess and George were too quick for him and flung themselves at the fleeing figure, bringing him down. The third, armed with hammer and chisel, faced off against Nancy. The girl detective made pacific and calming gestures with her hands. “Please put the implements down,” she urged him in a soothing voice, “why make it worse for yourself?” The nervous man glanced at his accomplice who was slowly being subdued by Bess, who was sitting astride him, pressing his wrists to the ground, and George, who was lying across his legs, preventing him from kicking out. For all his curses, it was clear he was close to being captured. The man with the chisel gave a sigh of disgust, dropped the tools and raised his hands in surrender. “I assume back up is in on the way,” he said sourly to Nancy who instinctively nodded.
Nancy turned to her friends who beamed back triumphantly at her, even as the man they had overpowered ceased the last of his struggles. “Good.” the girl sleuth smiled back. “Now we have two prisoners. Let’s get them tied up and question them before we take them and the casket to the police.” The man facing her looked at her incredulously. “Tie us up?” he repeated. “Take us to the police? We thought you girls were the police!” Nancy smiled enigmatically at him. “I told you we were detectives,” she told him, her eyes twinkling, “which we are. Now turn around and put your hands behind your back.” The man glowered at her angrily but nontheless did as she instructed. Nancy then retrieved the coil of rope the girls had used to help them loosen the brickwork the previous day and cut some lengths free with the pocket knife she pulled from her dress pocket. She flung some rope towards her friends and their prisoner. “Tie him good and tight, girls.” she told them. “We don’t want these men escaping. They have a lot of questions to answer!”
My interpretation of the story behind the cover to The Clue in the Crumbling Wall, The Nancy Drew Mystery Stories #22 (1945).
#nancy drew#woman detective#mystery#adventure#capture#girl detective#girl detective tying up bad guy
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Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!
Tagged by the ever lovely @killerandhealerqueen
obsessively, incessantly, to a point of suffocation
“Essek, you must be careful. You are the hope of Vorastal, you must be the shining light. You and Verin both. You cannot be caught doing as you are.”
2. sleeping snakes
The first sign anything was wrong was how long it took her to wake up. Astrid had always been the sort to wake with the first sign of light and to stay up until sleep finally pulled her to darkness late at night.
3. until it doesn't hurt
Essek had been declared dead three days when the grief finally became a wave she could not surpass. The letter sat, threatening, on the ornate desk in her study, the words read again and again, as though they would say something different the next time her eyes fell on it.
4. to regret is to be
Perhaps it was complacency that had led to this situation, circled by men attempting to rob them. Perhaps it was that neither Essek nor Verin wore the uniforms of their respective stations on this particular afternoon. Essek wore, instead, a disguise to allow him to walk the streets unencumbered by expectation; Verin wore no disguise at all, relying instead on the invisibility of the title of second son.
5. the patron saints of your voice sing hymns that remind me of you; still i sit alone waiting for you to return
“Gaon-ah, put it down.”
Yohan’s voice fades in before anything else does; the world is like static around him, blurry colors and unrecognizable faces. Hands touch his, calloused fingers that gently pry his fingers from the white-knuckle grasp he has on the knife.
6. Asteroids
The bass thrummed in a way that made it difficult to breathe. Not for the first time, Gorgug shifted in his seat and adjusted the harness tight against his chest. It was positioned in a way that it didn’t quite rub against him as he moved, but it was too tight to really be comfortable to be sitting in for an extended period of time.
7. our names in the sky
Cat operates on a three-strike system before she tries to get out of any particular situation she might be stuck in. And this situation is pushing her limits.
Strike one: it’s only 7 in the morning, which is far too early to be awake, especially in July. The energy drink in her hand is doing little to keep her from yawning every couple of minutes.
8. dreaming of flying
Karna likes the quiet of the night in the Meat Lands. It’s not quiet like the cities she’s used to — there’s no time when most fall asleep only to rise early again with the Bulb in the sky.
9. puppetry
He sees him out of the corner of his eye. Nothing more than a glimpse, and Yohan pivots on his heel, slipping his phone out of his pocket and murmuring, “Yes?” as cover.
Not that he notices.
10. don't let me know
It had been a long time since they had been okay.
Even sleeping in the same bed as they did, there was no part of them that could pretend like the cracks that had always existed weren’t chasms between them.
Tagging @clawbehavior @highflyerwings @technitango @godotismissingx and @mangacat201, as well as anyone else who wants to
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Chapter Four
The sharp sound of knives against stones fills my mother's ears as she walks through the forge, her long coat made from witch hair trails behind her. One of the many blacksmiths shows her the new armor being made, which she nods her approval of,
“This is made with a special metal that will break a witch’s teeth or nails or even her horns if she tries to hurt one of us,” the smith said, beaming at his work. Mother offers him the tiniest smile before she goes to make sure the Hunters are training properly. She stands next to Gajiel as he’s watching the trainees; a mixture of boys and girls.
“Is everything ready? Has the plan been figured out?” She leaned her head towards Gajiel and he smiled a little. “Yes. We are going to the Council of Witches to end them before Wren does”
Mother smiles her cold, dark smile.
…
“We’re going up to the village now” is the first thing Astrid says when I wake up. She’s been staring at the stairs since last night when my eyes finally closed. She’s been awake for hours and is exhausted. So, I walk over and lace up her boots that she unlaced in her anxious, nightless sleep.
“What are you doing?” The small witch looks at me as I sit in front of her, gently taking her foot and lacing up her boots, noting her pants leg has been hiked up and her skin is dark, like coconut skin.
I keep lacing her boots and then gently pull the pant leg into the boot so it’s all snug and protected. She raises an eyebrow,
“Is this an excuse to touch me?”
“No” the words leave my lips with innocence.
She rolls her eyes. “The only way you’ll ever touch me is if you have a knife pressed to my neck”
“Are you into that?” I tease as she gets up, grabs her small parcel, stomps out the lingering embers of our fire, and makes her way to the stairs that lead up to the secluded village.
After what feels like hours, and a few stops on the cliff sides that are stopping points next to the stairs, we enter the village. Astrid strides through, stopping only to give a rude gesture with her hand to a tree. I learn after a minute of thought that a Watchman is in the tree and must know the witch.
She leads us to a small hut at the edge of the other houses and opens the door to reveal a small room full of plants, rocks, dirt, and jars full of things that only a Healer would use.
“This is my home when I stay here” she says proudly, setting her things down.
“Do you stay here a lot?”
“Once or twice a year,” she says calmly.
“So every year you take this journey just to see these people?” I put emphasis on the word ‘this’.
“Yes. Is that a problem?” she raises an eyebrow and I can’t help but smile at the fact she has to look up to talk to me.
I shake my head before setting my small pack down, casting my eyes on the jars.
“We’ll sleep in the inn. This is just where I do my work, preparing medicines and remedies for the villagers for the upcoming winter,” she states, “I have to make my rounds to see how everyone is doing” She pushes past me and out of the hut, nodding for me to follow so I do and watch as she locks the door and makes her way to a stone house where two little girls run up to her and let out a spiral of words as she bends down onto her knees and checks them for injuries. I’ve seen healers do this; go to people's homes and check on each person, but never with such kindness and focus as Astrid does.
The children push the hood from her cloak off her head and I let out a soft gasp as her sharp, pointed, curved small horns glint in the sunlight. They’re beautiful. Beautiful beyond the possibility of being taken away from her. I think as the children run their hands over the curved bones that stick out atop her head. She gently takes the children by the hands and they help her up, leading her into the house. I follow and watch as she makes sure a pregnant woman is healthy.
She does this for the rest of the day, going to houses and making sure the people are healthy and giving them remedies if needed. Finally we stop at a barn house, where two young men accompanied by a much older one, are lugging wood out. They stop when the witch approaches. Her cloak flaps in the wind, and strands of ginger hair tug free from being tucked into her hood.
“Astrid! Welcome back!” the old man embraces her and places a kiss on her forehead. She smiles a real, warm smile, and nods to him, “Gerald. How are you? Arthur and Lan aren't giving you trouble, right?” She winks at the two boys, his sons most likely, and Gerald laughs, “They always shape up when they know you’re coming to visit”
The boys look down sheepishly, and she looks at Gerald "You really need to stop filling their heads with the idea of marrying me. You all know my thoughts on men,” Astrid says kindly as he nods, “Ah yes. You enjoy a woman’s soft bre-” One of his sons, Lan, is stopped by one of his fathers hitting him in the back of the head.
“Forgive my boy. You know he got his mother’s sharp tongue,” Gerald apologizes, glaring at his sons.
"Consider it done," Astrid says before noticing Arthur staring at me. "This is Wren, my, um... travel companion," she doesn't bother to elaborate.
“Ah yes, I see” Arthur winks at me, “Let me know if she's any good in bed”
For the first time since I’ve met her, Astrid's cheeks heat up as she storms away from the three men. I glare at the boys before walking up to Arthur, who purrs softly and smiles as I reach my hand down. He must be thinking of me grabbing something different than what I actually grab, because in three seconds he’s on the ground, his nose bleeding and a knife scraping on his neck.
"Speak to her or me that way again, and you'll learn just how good I am at other things that don't involve beds but do involve graves," I hissed into his ear before getting up and following Astrid.
…
Once we get into our inn room, she slams the door and begins to walk towards me, green eyes burning with anger.
“Why did you do that!?” She doesn't shout, but her tone is enough to make her seem angrier.
“Why are you so mad? I was defending you’ I protest, now sitting on the bed because there isn't much room for us to argue without one of us running into something.
“I don't need defending. Everyone here knows about my…preferences…the jokes don't bother me”
She keeps her eyes trained on me before speaking again. “I don't cause fights here because I’m a witch. They are very right to not trust me, but it's taken years for me to even be given a hut here for my practice. These people trust me. When one man is covered in blood, who do you think they’ll point an accusatory finger at?”
“I’m sorry. I-I’m not used to people being so…calm about a woman’s preferences,” I say, eyes now cast to the ground, “I’m sorry”
“Let’s go. There’s a lake just down through the woods. We can wash up there,” she says, ignoring my apology as she stands and picks up her pack, nodding for me to follow.
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No Strings Attached (masterpost)
Astrid DeGlass has always been able to keep her cards close to her chest. But when a routine assignment inadvertently drags one of her greatest secrets out into the open, the Sharlayan politician must deal with a heartbreak that never fully healed.
Gaius Baelsar is no longer the Black Wolf. His homeland is in ruins, and every day he must deal with the consequences of his once-ruthless quest for power. His life of self-exile and his past come crashing together once more when an old flame he never got over reappears.
And while we could tell you that this is a soft and fluffy tale of long-lost love given a second chance...
No.
He was a bastard, she was a bitch, they hate fucked each other’s brains out and attempted to ignore the Feelings until one ran away and the other decided world domination was an acceptable alternative.
And now they’re reunited.
Also those Feelings? They never went away.
(Astrid put down the fucking knife)
Did we also mention that Astrid’s granddaughter is the Warrior of Light?
This can only go well, right?
Presenting No Strings Attached, in which my FC decided to choose violence and jumped onto the bandwagon of the Worst Couple in Eorzea Ever and I got bitten by the fucking brainworm and now type this out for their amusement and to make the brainworms shut the hell up.
(me when this fucking fanfiction got enabled. I hate (affectionately) you all and I’m plotting revenge)
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
--------
More on Astrid DeGlass here
#ffxiv#no strings attached#astrid deglass#gaius van baelsar#gaius baelsar#fc shenanigans#i hate (affectionately) all of you#wol riven#Eorzea's Worst Couple Ever#LOOK HERE'S A MASTERPOST HAPPY
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Lessons
OTP Jacaerys Velaryon x Rhaena Targaryen
Warning: Sex.
Laughter could be heard at the library of Dragonstone, something usual, Prince Jacaerys used to stay up late studying with his cousin Lady Rhaena, Valyrian classes. Both chairs were glued side by side, two goblets with water, as Rhaena said wine tended to cloud the mind, and his hand, resting comfortably on the backrest.
“Concentrate, Jace”—she scolded him. How could he do that? If, thanks to the heat, his cousin was wearing a dress that left her shoulders bare, and he might have been looking at the skin of her neck more than he should and imagining the softness of her skin against his lips, he cleared his throat so as not to be caught in the middle of his scandalous thoughts, where his cousin was the protagonist more often than he was willing to admit.
" I'm so sorry, I couldn't make out the last word". He watched Rhaena roll her eyes and had no choice but to smile. Unfortunately, his mother didn't even ask him about engagements, things would be so different and uncomplicated, it was because first, he had an engagement with her sister, second, she was her brother's fiancée. And third, Daemon was going to kill him.
“Skoros ao jāre naejot gaomagon?” (What will you do?) She asked him and how could it be otherwise, he was attentive to her lips and only her lips, it might not seem like it, but he felt guilty for how he felt and how he was focusing on Rhaena as if there was no one else in the world, but was because, they spent too much time together and had too much in common for it not to start distracting him one way or another.
“nyke would najot vūjgon an” (am I going to kiss you) He answered her, sure of himself and made again, his cousin look at him with both eyebrows raised, and biting his lower lip, in fact, he was getting closer to kissing her because he was being true to his instincts, when she caught his eye, he could feel her lips brushing against his adverse ones.
“You said it wrong, cousin” She replied, but without breaking away, holding her breath and running the tip of his tongue across his mouth. “nyke would naejot vūjigon ao” an “ah” from Jace came out almost involuntarily, he would remember it for next time, but now he would finish cutting the distance to finally taste the adverse's lips as he had so imagined, and it was much better than he had dreamed, and he had done so much since his uncle Daemon had taken him to a brothel for the first time.
Rhaena didn't take long to raise her dress to sit astride him, and he was grateful for it, because he was able to slip his hand under her skirt and caress the length of her legs, what his cousin lacked in experience she made up for with the desire she was putting in, the prince left his hands on the lady's thighs, so he could stand up and leave her on the table, getting between her legs, he parted from her lips to go down to her chin and neck, while she ran her hand under the simple shirt she was wearing, which lifted her pride a because it was not one-sided, she was not going to think about the consequences of the outburst now.
He lowered her lips to the start of her breasts, seeking to pull down the dress to get better access to them, when they heard the clatter of the chair, he left over the door to listen for any intruders echoed a muffled, “shit who left this here? “ From her uncle's voice, made them alert, quickly pulling his hands out from under Rhaena's skirt, knowing that his death was near, if not for the father, it was for the daughter because she gave him a push and then a kick in the stomach with so much force that not only pushed him away from her, but took all the air out of him, the wretch sat accommodating the cleavage and taking a book for when the rogue prince showed himself, looking at both of them and especially at Jacaerys, confused of course, because the heir of Rhaenyra was leaning against the wall trying to recover his lip, he put his good hand on the handle of a long knife he carried Why was he armed in the fortress?
“What are you doing here alone at this hour?” he asked, serious, making a shiver run down his spine, luckily Rhaena was there with a smile as innocent as if she had never done anything wrong in her life, Jacaerys believed her everything. “I'm studying Valyrian, father, I told you I would help Jacaerys with his lessons” Daemon took a seat across from them, crossing his legs, while he could breathe back.
“What happened to him?” and he pointed to him with his head, he didn't know what to say, but as heir he had to learn to lie, he opened his mouth “Father, can you that he still doesn't know the verb <>(do) You cut off a pentosi's head for less than that” And again she interrupted him, that Jacaerys looked like an idiot was true, but as a future king he had to know how to distribute responsibilities and Rhaena knew how to lie very well, for covering Baela he thought.
“From now on you will take lessons with me, we don't want you to kill the eldest son of the princess.” Daemon was silent for a few seconds "And I didn't kill him, I cut his tongue because he dared to make a vulgar comment to your lady mother” He said it looking fixedly at Jacaerys, it was a threat, he was very sure because he also took the opportunity to show the length of the dagger, while he left it on the table, funny that now he was playing the good father when he ignored Rhaena or the good husband with Lady Laena, at least everyone in the castle knew about his visits when he didn't share the room with Rhaenyra. "Now go to sleep" And well, he wasn't such a fool not to obey, but he had to find another way to make sure his encounters alone with his cousin didn't end.
---
He knew he should have gone to his room and not follow Rhaena to hers to talk about what had happened, apologize for something he didn't really feel, because he had feelings for her and before he got married, he also wanted to feel that it was for once in his life, to give in to something as simple as desire. That he would end up lifting Rhaena up and leave her back against his bedroom door, that was not foreseen, nor that she would respond with the same vehemence. So, walking to her bed and leaving her there to make them both more comfortable.
He struggled against her dress, as she struggled against her clothes to go straight for her breasts as he tried earlier in the library, which he devoured with gusto, his hands ran over her waist, her legs, ass and wetness, he didn't want to leave there without tasting her completely, so he started down her belly.
"Jace, what are you doing?" he heard her agitated voice, as he knelt in front of the bed, holding her by the hips, he pulled her to him to put his face between her legs, beginning to devour her listening as she covered her mouth, so the gasps couldn't be heard and truth be told, he wasn't thinking too clearly how could he? Knowing that Rhaena was as willing as he was.
He wanted to take her and make her his completely, but he also knew he couldn't do that, taking her virginity would be totally without honor and would hurt her, not him. So, when he felt her jerk with pleasure, he stood over her, so he could squeeze her nipple between his lips again, smiling. His member was erect and aching, but he wasn't going to… to… His thoughts were midway when he felt Rhaena's hand move over his member, he put his own hand over hers, to guide her in rhythm, panting in her ear until his seed fell onto Rhaena's belly. He fell to his side exhausted, but with a smile that wouldn't leave him for days, he looked up at her, and she was staring at the ceiling.
"Rhaena" He called her, settling one of her deadlocks behind her ear "It's not just lust I feel for you, I hope you know it's something deeper than that" He saw her smile, and sit down on the mattress, she didn't even cover herself for what?
“I know, and it's the same for me, but we can't repeat this again, we have a duty” And he agreed, shame it was easy to say they would stop seeing each other because they lived in the same fortress. She leaned back and hugged him, kissing his chin.
"But it will be tomorrow, today let's pretend it's just us" And Jacaerys couldn't agree more, they would have a lifetime of duty to go on, for once he didn't think anything would happen. Did he?.
AO3 English | AO3 Spanish
#Rhaena Targaryen#Jacaerys Velaryon#Jacaena#Well im not English fluent so sorry#I promise you#i would do my others fics soon#jacaerys x rhaena
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Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning:
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Fandom:
How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Characters:
Snotlout Jorgenson
Eret Son of Eret
Astrid Hofferson
Hookfang (How to Train Your Dragon)
Stormfly (How to Train Your Dragon)
Additional Tags:
Caring Snotlout Jorgenson
Snotlout Jorgenson-centric
Snotlout angst
BAMF snotlout jorgenson
how is that not a tag?
Eret and snotlout literally doing a mind meld
he may have one brain cell but he uses it when it counts
sweetie
your blorbo is bonding with your other blorbo!
Language:EnglishSeries:← Previous Work Part 6 of Httyd stuff, ← Previous Work Part 5 of Snotlout whumpppppStats:Published:2023-01-16Words:830Chapters:1/1Kudos:1Hits:11
Bird in a golden cage.
Justbirdie
Summary:
Work Text:
Snotlout watched as Drago screamed Bloody Mary at his poor dragon causing Hookfang to bow down slowly, he cried out his poor dragon's name as Drago put a foot down over his snout! Snotlout begged for him to stop, but the monster of a man didn’t listen.
He looked at Eret as the muscular man was being interrogated but his face of traitorous rage turned to confusion as he saw just how terrified the man was.
Astrid butt in ranting about Berk’s tracking dragons as Eret desperately tried to motion for her to stop. After what he’d heard, Drago ordered his army to stop all preparations, they were going to take down the ‘nest’ and then… go after Berk!
Snotlout snapped back to his senses as he realized they had taken some of his secret knives, but definitely not all of them. He discretely reached inside his secret pocket of his leggings as they walked the ship, away from Drago, and pulled out a knife… he cut at his bindings carefully until he was loose! He began talking confidently.
“Y’know Eret… as traitorous as you’ve been I have to hand it to you, you're a very skilled fighter.” Eret looked extremely baffled as did the rest of the group. The recruits eyed him suspiciously, but brushed it off as delirium. Snotlout continued.
“I mean you could probably work with anything right? An ax, a spear, a knife …” Now everyone was extremely confused as he put extra emphasis on the small weapon. Eret was catching on.
“Sure…?” He stated
“And I bet you could wrestle anything!” He said his next words slowly, eyeing Eret, who smirked. “A bear, a dragon, a DUCK!” He shouted as he threw his knife at Eret, allowing him to free himself. The others followed his instructions, narrowly missing a knife to the head. Eret began attacking immediately, swapping the knife for two spears from a knocked out soldier using them to free the others. Snotlout jumped into the fray, attacking endlessly.
Eventually the troops were all unconscious or dead and everyone rushed to the dragon traps to rescue their dragons. Snotlout bolted to the largest trap secretly, where he hoped his monstrous nightmare was.
—/—
Snotlout opened the cage and jumped down to see a chained down, bone dry, monstrous nightmare.
“HOOKY!” He whispered. “What did they do to you! They must’ve taken away your gel huh?” The short Viking cooed his poor dragon. “I promise we’re going to eat like kings when we get home! Promise!” Hookfang looked up a little, gratefully.
“Alright let’s get you out hmm?” Snotlout smirked as he unchained his dragon watching as he slowly stood and right has he thought they were going to leave, the noirette was scooped by his dragon and gently nuzzled for a long time, play wrestling and bringing the Viking to tears that his best friend was here.
Snotlout touched his snout and Hookfang recoiled. Shifting back a few feet.
“Hooky…?” Snotlout immediately realized the problem. “Hookfang! I promise it’s me! Not Drago!” They both flinched at the name that they’d all be haunted by for the rest of their life, he was fine with that though… I mean, he still remembers Viggo!
“I swear Fangster, no one with any sense will ever do that to you again!” He walked gently and quietly to his dragon, reaching out his hand to his snout looking away.
Snotlout had never known what it was like to be Hiccup… he thought it must have been amazing! ‘Master of all dragons’ able to be such a smart person and a leader was something Snotlout was not blessed in.
But in that moment, the fear of rejection and death that would follow if this didn’t work, suddenly made him feel sorry all over again for how he’d treated the future chief.
But then, Hookfang hesitantly moved his snout to connect with his rider’s hands. Snotlout nearly melted at the touch, tears coming to his eyes all over again.
The dragon pulled back and for a second, the short Viking worried he’d done something wrong until he was flipped in the air, landing on Hookfang’s saddle!
The nightmare squawked at him and Snotlout patted him reassuringly.
“Don’t worry, I won’t mention anything to the others!” He rolled his eyes as Hooky purred in agreement. Snotlout smirked.
“Now, LET’S GO KICK DRAGO’S ASS!” He roared and Hookfang flew out of the trap at lightning speed onto the battlefield, where the other riders were soon to join them.
“TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH SNOTLOUT!” Astrid shouted over the wind, Eret attempting to ride Stormfly directly infront of her.
“Teaching on the fly! I like it!” He stated sarcastically,
The blonde rolled her eyes, and Snotlout saw a hint of worry.
“but yeah we needed a bit of… catch up time.”
Astrid shrugged and the two went their separate ways destroying all the traps that dare cross the riders.
Snotlout knew they’d come out on top.
ooo hoo hoo i like it
we didn’t get nearly enough snotfang in the movies and it makes me sad
beautiful one shot 10/10
#httyd#how to train your dragon#httyd fandom#httyd movies#snotlout jorgenson#snotlout snotlout oi oi oi#snotlout#snotfang#hookfanghttyd#hooky#hookfang#httyd 2#drago bludvist#fanfiction#httyd fanfiction#fanfic#one shot#snotlout one shot
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"Where is Didelphis now?" I asked Chloe.
"Last I heard," the duck replied, "she was locked in jail with Oonagh."
"What!?" I blurted. "In the same cell?"
"Tulgeyside only has one jail," Chloe explained. "With one cell in it. There isn't a lot of crime, and most of what there is can be punished with a day in the stocks."
"Why not put Didelphis in the stocks then?"
"She'd scream," Chloe answered without hesitation. "Plus she's too small to fit in the holes."
"Okay, but why lock them up together?? If they truly believe Oonagh bewitched Didelphis with black magick, then why in Fuma's creation did the town not separate them??"
"Where else could they put her?" Chloe replied. "Who wants to foster a shrill, obnoxious child who screeches constantly and is likely to return your hospitality by accusing you of witchcraft? No one really liked Didelphis before she was transformed, and now she's even worse. She's louder, with more stamina, and she can run faster."
"She got what she wanted," I objected. "She got Oonagh locked up, but you say she was still screeching? What for?"
"She wanted things. She demanded that the moment Oonagh was executed, all of the baking awards should be given to her since Oonagh had cheated by using witchcraft and she, Didelphis, was the one who truly deserved them. She also demanded to be given Oonagh's head as a trophy. She demanded apologies from all the baking judges that unfairly favored Oonagh over her. She demanded that lutes be outlawed and all songs less than 70 years old should be banned. She demanded that all the mels get haircuts and the femmes wear ankle-length skirts. The rabbits backed her up on those last two. There's more. The list goes on and on."
"Did Oonagh do or say anything in her defense?"
"Yes. Oonagh threatened to put Didelphis in timeout for a whole five minutes."
"Wow," I scoffed ironically. "Quite the disciplinarian. Well, at least we know where Didelphis is. The fact that no one particularly likes or cares about her could work to our advantage. The part that troubles me the most is the fact that this whole clown show sounds like it's just being done to pacify the rabbits of Bunkirk."
Suddenly, Burnside burst through the bushes into the circle.
"Got yer orders from the Ixies," she breathed excitedly, brandishing a large knife in each hand. "Who do ya need killed?? I'm ready to go buck wild on this here entire county! You give the word, an ever'body ever'where gonna find their insides on their outside right quick!"
"Save that for the worst case scenario," I advised.
"Is Miss Burnside all right?" Rebecca whispered. "I think she's foaming at the mouth."
"She's just excited at the chance to use her special talents," I whispered back. "They don't call her the Raccoon Monster for nothing."
"All right now," I called, holding up my hand for silence. "Everyone calm down. Burnside is to stay here in case any of the mob manage to come into the forest. If they make it this far, it means they're tough enough to be dangerous. Your mission may change if the situation changes, but right now I need a terrifyingly lethal personal bodyguard. Now, everyone keep quiet for a moment. I need to think of a plan."
I rubbed my face and began to ponder. What would Irenaeus do? Obviously, he'd ride into town astride Bucephalus, hacking and hewing right and left with his deadly sword. Burnside would love that, but unfortunately I was not cut out for such heroics - and besides, I couldn't leave this stone circle.
If I could scry the jail, I could get Oonagh out of there … but this idea had problems as well. Scrying would require me to go through the Gate, and I still wasn't confident about managing the time slips. I could keep the discrepancy down to a minute or two, MAYBE, but was it worth the risk? I decided it was not, because I recalled that the rabbits had been able to prevent me from scrying beyond the woods. Supposedly they did it by praying (of which I was highly skeptical) and there was no reason to assume that they had lowered the barrier, which meant that using the scry tower would likely be a waste of time.
Arrgh, I needed to come up with a plan! I had to fix this! This whole mess was my fault, because I thought it would be a laugh to turn this old hag into a child and have her adopted by her mortal enemy! I must have been insane to think … wait … could the solution be as simple as turning Didelphis back into a crone? I could undo the transmogrification from here, without having to see Didelphis or even know where she was.
But even if she turned back into an old crone, how would that solve this predicament? There would have to be a way to incriminate Didelphis and blackmail her into silence, otherwise she could still blame the whole thing on Oonagh. On further reflection, blackmail would require establishing contact, proving that we had the incriminating evidence, and making our threats. I didn't have time. The possum would have to be framed. Could we plant evidence at her shack to imply that she had bewitched herself with an evil pie, in a desperate attempt to discredit her rival? Would it be possible to do such a thing without violating Thorwald's Edict regarding elves and the truth?
Suddenly Ash's little book began to feel hot in my Elfintory.
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starter status: open
where: twisted sisters pub
who: torbjörn
setting: tor, feeling disheartened by his inability to write seeks comfort in alcohol. being the mouthpiece of mortis, it's rare for him to be able to go out and enjoy life. do you recognise him? if you do — how will you approach? if you don't recognise him, great, maybe you'll be able to make conversation with him. maybe you don't recognise him from mortis, but you've seen him around town with his daughter astrid—or you've taught her, taken care of her in the moon & sun daycare centre or babysat her when he's needed the help.
cap: 4/4 — capped!
He's been engrossed in his notebook, writing out poetic meanings and phrases that could stab the heart—none of it works, his pen scrawling and scratching the paper until it breaks through to the page beneath. Huffing & sighing, Tor accepts that writing songs under stressful conditions just wouldn't do. Closing his notebook, he slips it away into his tattered messenger bag and decides it's in his best interest to just approach the remainder of the day as if he didn't just try to write more gothic, hell—worshipping music laced with hints of a love song.
It's all part of the mourning. The yearning. She's still unseen, her presence a knife in his chest. God, he misses her.
Slinging the bag strap over his head and across his chest, Tor leaves the ugly mug diner, knowing that the only cure for the lack of creativity is a hard beer. Hands tucked in his leather jacket pockets, he braces himself for the mid-evening chill as he walks to the twisted sisters pub, the only place he's found so far that makes him feel at home.
The walk felt so long, minutes dragged like hours but he makes it eventually, pushing through the main doors into the warmth and cluttered sounds of the pub. Immediately he feels more at ease, softly grinning to himself as he takes it all in. If only she could see this place.
Approaching the bar, Tor gives a happy wave and greets the bartender with relief. "Hey! Can I get a beer whenever you're ready? Thanks." He asks, leaning onto the bar with both his elbows. Instinctively, Tor begins fiddling with the drink mat they put down, twirling it in his hands.
As soon as someone comes and stands beside him, he stops, aware that the presence of another person means all his actions will become observed. Looking up, he straightens his back and acknowledges the new arrival with a gentle smile. "You've come at the right time. Place isn't too busy so you won't be waiting long." He's never been good at small talk, and this shows it in all its raw glory. Stifling himself from saying anything else potentially useless, he turns his attentions back to the mat, placing it flat on the bar top just as the bartender brings over his drink. "Cheers." Tor mutters, taking a sip to shut himself up.
#anchoragestarters#starters—open.#threads—tor.#hi !! im incredibly rusty with regards to writing open starters but i wanna introduce torbs so badly.#anyway most of this is scene-setting so you dont need to match length or use icons/gifs!#im an iconless and gifless writer atm.#also this was written on mobile and on beta !
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