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lumosinlove · 1 year

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Beneath My Touch

Chapter Four

Leo/Logan/Finn Bridgerton AU

Read the rest on AO3

Logan waited in his small, secret library, facing out the window, until the door opened and Leo was guided through, along with the tea just behind him.

“Lord Knut, sir,” said the butler.

“Yes, thank you,” Logan said, then nodded at Maisie, who was carrying the tea. “Thank you.”

He and Logan watched each other as the servants set out the china and then left with a bow, shutting the door behind them. Logan took a step forward, letting out a breath. “Leo.”

Leo just looked at him for a long moment. He looked just as handsome as Logan remembered in his light gray summer suit, almost the same color as the streak in his hair.

“If people thought we were engaged after a dance, and then…after we ran into the gardens together…” Leo said quietly into the silence, then removed a copy of Whistledown from inside his jacket. “God knows what they think now.”

Logan didn’t know how to reply, and so he poured the tea.

“I must confess, I…” Leo removed his hat, held it nervously in his hands. “I don’t understand what has happened. I mean, I do understand, but…”

“I know,” Logan said. “I’m not sure I quite do, either. How do you take it?”

“Milk and one sugar.”

“I take three,” Logan said, then sent a glance up at him. “I’m not sure why I told you that.”

“It’s Finn, isn’t it?” Leo asked quietly. “The boy from the garden.”

Logan paused, hand poised with the milk pitcher, then cleared his throat and poured. He dropped one sugar into Leo’s cup, and three into his own. He gestured Leo to the sofa, slid the cup to poise in front of it, but didn’t sit himself. He didn’t think he could manage stillness just then.

“Yes,” Logan said, and rubbed at the back of his neck. “It is.”

Leo nodded faintly, then somewhat shakily lowered himself into the chair.

“That’s a lot of sugar,” Leo said.

“Yes,” Logan said again. “Leo, I…” Logan sank onto the sofa beside him. “God, I’m—I'm so sorry. You put all of yourself towards me last night and I let you. All while I knew—”

“It’s all right,” Leo said quietly.

“No, it isn’t. I…The truth is, no part of me set out to enjoy myself last night.”

Leo looked up from where he was messing with the handle of his cup. Just trying to keep his hands busy it seemed. “Well…all right.”

“No,” Logan sighed. “No, I—God, how do I say this. I wasn’t just—but I did. I was happy last night. You made me laugh, and you can’t imagine how far I was from anything of that sort just a few hours earlier. Finn and I, we’d been thinking that we could never—it doesn’t matter now. You did make me laugh, and you were unbearably kind. Even when…”

Logan could barely piece together the scene by the fountain. One second, his lips on Finn’s, I love you so, so much.Then the next, Leo had been there.

Leo only smiled sadly. He took a sip of his tea, and then rose, smoothing his jacket. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t see you at the Starlight ball tonight.”

Logan stood, too, unsettled by the panic that brought to his chest. “Leo…”

“I think I’ll…” Leo wasn’t looking at him. “I’ll skip a few days of the Season. Go to the country.”

“But…” Logan couldn’t stand the thought that he had ruined it all for Leo. And he knew that Finn didn’t know Leo at all, but Logan knew Finn, and he thought Finn wouldn’t be able to stand it either. “The Starlight—it’s the beginning of the Season. It’s where people get talking, and where matches are made. All sorts. All sorts of matches.” What Logan even saying now, he didn’t know. he only knew he wanted Leo to stay, to not leave yet.

“A match for me is not a necessity,” Leo said. “And I’m afraid the original longing for one that I felt last night has…diminished.”

Logan put a hand to his own chest. “Leo.”

“Matches,” Leo said again, eyes back on Logan. Blue. So blue. He nodded, as if in realization. “A good match, I said last night, and you went so far away.”

Logan swallowed. “Yes. I know.”

“I hope Finn is yours,” Leo said. “Your match. And I hope you are his. I do know you make a good partner now, you know.” Another sad smile as he took a step towards the door. “Even if only in dance.”

“Leo…” Logan said, if only because he had no words to reply to Leo’s. He should stop saying his name, but it brought about this peaceful set to Leo’s mouth that Logan enjoyed. He took a step forward. “I’m sorry. For dragging you into this, for…”

“I saw you walk down that aisle to the Queen and I thought…” Leo smiled, realer this time, steeped in memory. “He is the most stunning thing. A little melancholy, maybe—and now I know why—but then you were kind, too, and sweet.”

Logan couldn’t deny the flush on his neck, or the disappointment he felt. Perhaps it was only that it would have been nice to have a friendly face, someone who knew what had happened. But that was wrong. That felt too sparse. Too superficial.

“I understand,” Logan forced himself to say. “But I…I do hope we meet again?”

“Of course,” Leo said, but Logan couldn’t tell if he meant it. He could only watch as Leo turned fully towards the door, striding across the room to take it by the handle—and pause. He stood there for a long moment, poised to leave. Logan watched his shoulders rise and fall, rise and fall, and then he turned—just a little. Just enough for Logan to catch a last glimpse of his profile.

“I’m sorry, too, Logan, but not because I met you. Only because I met you too late. And you didn’t drag me into anything,” Leo cracked the door. “I chose you. Remember?”

Every movement of the sun across the floor, every slight billow of the curtain by the window, turned into Finn’s potential arrival. Logan sat on the cushions by the window, a book open in his lap that he wasn’t reading. It was only that it was a favorite of Finn’s. He’d seen it in Finn’s hands, and he stared at the words as if, somehow, they would tell him what Finn was doing, and why he wasn’t coming to see him. He knew where Logan would be. Logan was never anywhere. His days were mindless things, and every time he wanted to do something about that, every time he wanted to change that, no one, not even his sisters, seemed to know what to say to him.

He had just surprised himself with the thought that Leo would know what to say to him, Leo who seemed to have every passion for life, when the door opened.

Logan’s head snapped up so fast that he knocked it on the wooden frame he was sitting against.

“Sorry, it’s just me,” Noelle said. “You are jumpy.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Logan said, and looked back down at the book.

Noelle came in and shut the door behind her, dress rustling, hair loose down her back. “The maids are saying that Knut was here.”

“The maids should mind their own business.”

“What did he want?”

“And so should you.”

Noelle sat on the cushion by his feet. “Logan. Come on.”

Logan sighed and closed the book, rubbing his palm over the worn cover.

“I know—” Noelle began carefully, and when he looked up at her, she was tracing the pattern on the window seat’s cushion. “Logan…I know that the idea of Finn being there at the ball tonight, requesting the dance through Whistledown no less, or I suppose I should say his alter-persona. I know that is exciting. But I implore you to think of what he offers you.”

“I love Finn, Noelle,” Logan said. “I love him entirely. That is what he offers me.”

“I love that you are happy,” Noelle said, but it was almost pleading, rather than pleased. “But what will you do, move into your bedroom together?” Noelle shook her head. “You think that he will be invited to the places we are invited? Logan, I’m not even sure some of our staff will agree to wait on him. It will be seen as a snub. He will be miserable in this world and I’m worried that then you will be, too.”

“Maybe I don’t want him in this world,” Logan said. “Maybe I want to find a world of our own.”

Noelle laughed, but not unkindly. “That sounds just grand when you say it like a poet, but that world of your own is not a little bubble of love, it’s a world you have never—no, Logan, don’t get up, look at me.”

Logan clutched the book to his chest and settled back against the cushions. He felt like a pouting child doing it.

Noelle put a hand on his knee. “Finn is…beneath your touch.”

Logan pushed her hand away. “You don’t even know him. You can’t say that, you can’t say he’s not good enough.”

“I don’t mean him, I mean the way he was raised. It’s not good enough for you not because it’s bad but because it will be hard for you to understand. It will be as hard for the people there to accept you as it would be for the people here to accept him. Finn’s is a world you have never stepped even a toe in. Even a little finger. You don’t know what it’s like to be without all of,” she gestured to the greater room. “This. You will have absolutely no idea how to conduct yourself in it.”

“I don’t know how to conduct myself in this world!” Logan said. “Noelle…” He made a frustrated noise and rubbed at his eyes, then looked out the window. He could see the gardeners below, smoothing the hedges, keeping up the summer blossoms. What did they go home to? He had seen the cottages of the tenants around the ground. No, they weren’t the Greencloake Manor he lived in, but they were beautiful nonetheless. Why did Noelle think it would be so bad? Because he would have to learn to boil his own eggs? Maybe he could learn that. Maybe he wanted to, if Finn would teach him. If he had Finn’s help.

“I’m asking…” Noelle said softly. “Did—did Leo Knut offer you something just now?”

Logan looked at her. “What, you mean his hand?”

“Yes, Lo. I mean marriage, because you two—last night you two—”

“He saw me and Finn.”

Noelle sucked in a breath, her fingers digging into the cushion. “What does…what does that mean.”

“Finn, he was at the ball last night,” Logan said. “I saw him, waiting for me out the window and I found him in the gardens.”

“He shouldn’t have.”

“Let me speak,” Logan said, a bit more harshly than he had meant to, and he covered her hand with his own to try and make up for it. “Yesterday afternoon, Finn all but told me what you are telling me now. That we have no chance. That I must marry because that’s the world I was born into. The youngest child, with a fine inheritance, but nothing very promising other than that.”

“Oh, Lo, you are promising—”

“But he came to see me, and we told each other that we loved each other,” Logan didn’t know why he had dropped his voice to a whisper, but it felt suited to the words. Sacred.

“And he said nothing of Whistledown?” Noelle asked.

“He—he said that he might have something, a plan, that may allow us to be together.”

Noelle frowned. “How does…”

“Though it might not work.”

Noelle blinked. “He thinks—he thinks Whistledown raises his station, doesn’t he?”

Logan had been thinking on it. “I believe so.”

Noelle let out a scoff. “Logan. You’re a Lord.”

“He’s not a servant anymore.”

“So, he’s a writer? Where exactly does that place him in our society?”

“I don’t give a damn.”

“Logan. What kind of life will you two have?”

Logan stood, done with the conversation. “I am happy with him. That’s what kind of life we will have, and I am going to the ball tonight, and we will have our first dance, and it will be in the middle of a crowded room, and everyone is going to stare, and whisper, and gossip because that’s what they’re best at, but I will still be happy. Because I am in his arms, and he loves me, and that is more of a life than I have ever thought I could dream of.”

Logan didn’t wait for his sister’s response. He didn’t put the book down. He kept it close to his chest as he tore out of the room and slammed the door.

Finn wasn’t here. Logan kept close to his family—not exactly speaking to any of them—as the glimmering ballroom moved around him, but Finn wasn’t here. Families were still being announced, Logan supposed—Lord and Lady Tremblay of Greencloake Manor and their children, Lady Tremblay, Lady Tremblay, Lady Tremblay, and Lord Tremblay.

But he’d hoped that he and Finn could talk, even before the first dance. What was he going to be wearing? How would they say Finn’s name? Would they say it at all, or would Finn sneak in somehow. Logan felt the same adrenaline as their secret meetings, ready always for Finn to appear, to wrap him up in his arms. Got you. How was your day? But it wasn’t secret. None of it was secret or hidden. People had begun to stare at him the moment he walked in. Even some people that he considered friends had seen him and then turned away, mouths hidden behind hands. Some eyes were amused, some were scornful.

Logan surprised himself again with a thought of Leo, and how he wished that he were here. He understood. He hadn’t mocked him. Logan would do anything to be standing with someone who could make him laugh right now.

The announcer beat his staff twice against the floor, signaling another family’s arrival, but Logan was tired of snapping his head up to look, to see if it was Finn. He’d been doing that all night. He just stared down into his cup of wine, which he’d barely touched. Everything tasted sour.

“Lord and Lady Knut of Sweetgrass Manor, and their son, Lord Knut.”

Logan turned fast, sure that he’d heard wrong. But there was Leo, standing at the top of the stairs with his parents, elegant and handsome in a light blue-gray set of tails, white tie, and—God, pearl pins nestled into his blond curls that caught the candles’ glow like he himself was the starlight of the ball. His eyes found Logan as he descended the stairs, and he smiled slightly. He ignored the whispers, too—these ones no doubt about his sheer radiance—and inclined his head to the hosts of the ball before striding right over to Logan, that same soft smile on his face.

“My Lord,” Leo said quietly when he reached Logan. The chatter around them was frantic now—Lord Knut and Lord Tremblay—But Whistledown?—And when will he arrive?

Leo bowed slightly, aware of Logan’s family near by, and then shifted to stand politely at Logan’s shoulder. In an even softer voice, meant just for the two of them, he said in Logan’s ear, “I thought you might require a friend by your side tonight, after all. At least until you-know-who arrives.”

Logan looked up at him. He still felt slack with surprise, off-kilter by Leo’s appearance. “You didn’t—you didn’t have to do that.”

Leo kept his blue eyes on the ballroom. “I know.”

Logan stepped in front of him, insistent on drawing that blue gaze. “Leo.”

Finally, Leo looked at him. Logan had the strongest urge to reach up and touch one of the tiny pearls in his hair.

“Thank you,” Logan said.

And then, with two more taps of his staff, out called a name that sent Logan’s heart knocking against his ribs even harder.

“Mr. Finn O’Hara, of—” the man’s voice broke, and stuttered. “Of Whistledown Cottage.”

The ballroom hushed into silence. Logan watched Leo’s eyes move to the staircase behind him first, the blue of them focusing in on the boy who was, of course, standing at the top of them. We will see each other tomorrow.

“Speaking of,” Leo said quietly, and nodded forward. “Look. He looks quite fine.”

Slowly, Logan turned.

And there, at the top of the stairs, was Finn. Logan had to blink twice to fully recognize him. Gone was the roughspun shirt, the work boots, all replaced by a fine summer suit—dark green. It made his auburn hair look smooth and rich, his pale skin flush. The statement was clear enough. Green was the Tremblay’s color. That, and the cottage name, and the determined, confident look on his face—Logan’s stomach was in knots, heart pounding, Finn, this entire time, Finn—

“That is Whistledown?” whispered voices from all around him. “Whistledown.” Logan barely heard.

“Go,” Leo said in his ear, and pressed a hand to his back. “Go, Logan.”

He vaguely registered himself walking towards the foot of the staircase as Finn descended it. He shouldered through the other bodies in the room, and then realized they were parting for him. He could hardly believe that it was really Finn who he was seeing. Not some phantom. Not some trick. Finn, so changed that Logan could hardly take it all in. Whistledown. All of the times Logan had read to Finn aloud from it—his own words—praising them, laughing at them, wondering how on Earth this author had come to power.

Only, then Finn was standing right in front of him, up close, and Logan realized he was entirely wrong. Those brown eyes were the same, warm and searching for Logan’s reaction, his thoughts. Logan could see Finn’s chest rise and fall with a breath, and then he bowed the deep, well-practiced one that Logan had taught him. When he rose to meet Logan’s eyes again, he looked less confident, as if the foreign gesture had unsettled him.

“My Lord,” Finn said, and it was a jolt to hear him speak. His voice was familiar, too, bringing the reality of this, all of this, crashing into Logan even harder.

“Lo,” Finn whispered, and held out his hand.

Logan didn’t think he could have spoken even if he wanted to. He couldn’t imagine why Finn looked so afraid all of a sudden, as if he actually thought there was any world in which Logan would refuse him. He didn’t think he’d be able to say that just then, and so he only placed his palm into Finn’s. Finn’s fingers were warm as they tightened around his own.

The room seemed to unfreeze then. The promise of the start of the dancing was too enticing to refuse, and other couples gathered around them. Logan looked for Leo but didn’t see that he had joined, too. Go. Go, Logan.

Those beside him and Finn on the floor stared openly, and Logan, too, finally got a little self-conscious. He squeezed Finn’s hand and relaxed a little when he felt Finn squeeze his palm in return. The green coat was smooth and well-made beneath Logan’s palm when he reached up to hold Finn’s shoulder, but Logan far preferred the rough skin of Finn’s hand.

“Are you all right?” Logan whispered, lips barely moving to avoid the listeners.

“Only if you are,” Finn breathed.

“I missed you,” Logan said, and then the music struck up. Finn took the lead perfectly, guiding Logan where he wanted with the slightest pressure. It wasn’t until they had turned a few steps that Logan realized, with a warm bloom of something in his chest, that they were doing the very thing they had dreamed of. Dancing, right there in the middle of the crowd. The awe of it all invaded his senses, and he didn’t even have to try to remember any steps. He wasn’t even sure the crowd existed anymore, only Finn’s face, still worried seeming, gazing down at him.

He didn’t care what his family might be doing, watching them. He didn’t care that they were surrounded by frowns and puzzlement and scandalized old-timers disappointed that Whistledown was not one of the fine ladies among them, not someone they could pamper and win over for their own status. Finn was here, and Logan wasn’t exactly sure what that meant for either of them, but he did know he could no longer take the unease in Finn’s expression. Logan needed Finn to stop watching him as if he might be angry. Maybe he was something other than perfectly delighted that Finn had been hiding something like this, but Logan could sort that out later.

The dance brought them apart briefly—Logan hated that bit. Finn had, too, when they had practiced, just the two of them. God, why, if I chose to dance with you, have I got to touch all these other people? Logan had laughed hard at that, but now he agreed. He kept his eyes on Finn’s the whole time, even when he had to spin a woman around, and then on the back of his red hair when Finn, too, was forced to turn.

Finn couldn’t be doing it all alone, could he? Looking back on it now, Logan was sure that he himself had fed some of what Finn had written about. He’d thought he was merely agreeing with Whistledown, not seeing his own opinions written down. Finn had given him a voice, he’d given them both of voice, when neither of them were expected to have one. Their circumstances were nothing alike. Finn came from a poor family. He had no voice because no one cared to listen. Logan came from, well, this. And he had no voice because no one cared to listen. It was a relief when they came back together, for both of them. Finn let out a shaky breath as he took Logan against him again, closer than was usually respectable.

Once, months ago, they had altered this particular dance. Together, while practicing and having fun. On a summer night in the forest by the country manor, candlelight and blankets thrown down, the air warm and alive with crickets. A bottle of whiskey to share and food Finn had snuck away from the kitchens. Finn had said what if it went like this instead? Then I’ll never have to let you go, and the dance had suddenly become their own.

Now, If Logan couldn’t tell Finn that he wasn’t angry, he’d show him.

The next part of the dance was supposed to be another step back, and then a turn. But that’s not what they had done. So, now, in the crowded, shocked ballroom, when Finn took the traditional step back, Logan stepped right up to him, as close as they had been in the woods. It made them stand out from the other couples, as did Finn’s frozen, surprised expression.

“You remember,” Logan said.

Finn stared at him for a long moment, and then a slow, bright smile crept over his face. He nodded. While the other dancers barely touched palms, Finn took Logan’s hands and spun him, Logan’s back to him, but their arms crossed closely across Logan’s chest, like a wrapped up embrace. They stepped together, once, twice, and it brought Finn’s mouth right by Logan’s ear.

“I never wanted to hide from you,” Finn said softly.

“I…” Logan said, and tilted his head to look up at him. “I know that.”

“I thought you might be angry,” Finn said and turned him back around in time to join the other dancers in their synchronized steps.

“I’m not. You could have told me.” While the others turned and brushed palms again in a slow circle, they did the same, only with their fingers laced together.

“I didn’t want you to think I was only using you for information,” Finn said, and pulled Logan back in, before leading him back a step, then to the side, the room spinning around them. “I still don’t want you to think that.”

“Why did you do it at all?” Logan asked. “Whistledown.”

“Us,” Finn said. “Our talks. It began with me writing some of it down. I wanted to remember what you said—you are a great speaker, Logan, when you decide to be.”

“I’m not.”

“When you are comfortable with who is listening to you, you are. And I’ll always listen.”

Logan tried to find it in him to wish they were both away from it all, the flickering candles and the eyes and the murmuring chatter. But he couldn’t. He wanted this. Him and Finn, talking as they always had, right in front of them all. The music, anyhow, was coming to an end, the dance coming to a close.

“And then I realized you were forever for me,” Finn said as Logan raised his hands to loop around his neck, as their own dance went. “But I knew we couldn’t have that, not with how I was. So I knew I needed to raise my rank, just a little. Just a few steps up.” They didn’t bow, while applause raised around them, but Finn blinked, as if he’d forgotten the others. “Funny, right? Abiding to the system, even while picking it apart.”

Logan shook his head. “How did I not see it before?”

“What?” Finn asked.

“You talk how you write,” Logan said, then reached up to run a gentle thumb over the high of Finn’s cheeks. “So, it’s you that doesn’t like my rakish ways.”

“Well, Whistledown hasn’t noticed those in quite some time now,” Finn smiled. “Could Lord Tremblay have taken a lover?”

“Oh, he has. And he doesn’t plan on straying.”

“Well, then.” Finn pressed their foreheads together. “Looks like someone lucky gets you all to himself.”

Logan put a hand to Finn’s cheek, and laughed. Part of him wanted to cry—only, not in front of all these people—a smaller thought passed through part of him, too. Where is Leo?

“Well,” Logan said softly to Finn, and dropped his palm from his cheek to his hand, hoping he agreed that it was time to go. “You have me.”

#o'knutzy #Beneath My Touch lumosinlove #Bridgeton au #finn/leo/logan #Logan/Leo/finn #finno #lelo #finn o'hara #Leo knut #Logan tremblay

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ladyconstantinex · 2 years

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Start of a new season

@drcamofthecndless

Johanna once read that when you fall in love it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then simply subsides. And when it settles you have to make a decision, you have to decide if your roots are to become so entwined that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Although Johanna’s prime aspiration was in her mind superior to that of love, she wondered if one day she would find true virtue in those words and find that love was worthy after all.

There was something intangible about social events, principally grand balls. Johanna found that the absence of propriety displayed by the many mothers and their many daughters mortifying. Of course, It gave Johanna tremendous pleasure to witness the dancing, it brought back memories of her beloved sister.

‘Miss Constantine, you’ve finally decided to grace us with your presence’ the rich but distinctive voice of The Queen addresses Johanna to which she bows almost simultaneously. “Your highness” Johanna acknowledges, lips press together to stop the temptation of a smirk. She watches the Queens gaze and knows their short conversation would continue at some point soon, for now she continues her stride greeting her other guests.

She can feel the preying of a thousand eyes followed by the sounds of whispering, gossiping Johanna did not miss this. At first she’s almost certain she is the subject of the conversation but the gaze of the room becomes transfixed on a particular spot and Johanna knows that she was mistaken. Johanna observes from afar with curious eyes, the tall man with the brooding expression and how every eligible young woman flocked to await his approval.

#sandman rp #bridgeton au #morpheus x Johanna

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auroralightsthesky · 8 months

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Hi bby!! It’s been a while, I’ve been good, I’ve been busy, the house is been good. I was wondering how caught up you are on Lady Whistledown,

Apparently Lord Robert from the House Floyd and Miss (Y/N) from House Seresin have started a courtship! But one must come to wonder what Lord Jacob Miss Y/N’s Elder Brother must think of the Courtship.

OH MY GOD BELLA I ALMOST SHIT A GOLD BRICK WHEN I SAW THIS!!!!!! (lol). I am so glad to hear that you and the family are good and that the house is coming together and this!!!! (In Don Corleone's voice) "You come into my house on the day of my daughter's wedding......and you leave me with this little gem??" (lol).

Bella, my bestie of besties you are an absolute genius for this!!! I'm gonna have to send in something now because I've been horrible at it (lol).

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bridgeton au

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thekatebridgerton · 1 year

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Hey I missed you! Been thinking of Medieval Arrange marriage au tho, where each Bridgerton sibling inherit their own kingdom that been split into eight pieces by their late father. But in order to inherit it, they must marry the person he assigned them to.

Anthony first thought he was to marry Edwina, she is proper and agreeable only to find out it is her fiery and stubborn sister he is promised with. Boy, is he happy.

Benedict didn’t want to marry Rosemund, Posy was nice enough, but it was shy Sophie who caught his eyes and he nearly danced in joy when he finds out that she is his betrothed. Much to Araminta’s horror.

Colin was surprised that he was to marry his sister’s lady in waiting, Penelope but as he starts paying closer attention to her, he is ready to fight anyone to stands in his way to ravish her like a meal.

Daphne is delighted to marry her betrothed, her brother’s best friend but boy is he hard work, cause she never knows what he is thinking or feeling. She is going to make him love her whatever it’s the last thing she does.

Eloise didn’t wish to marry but having written and been charmed by her betrothed through letters, she decides to meet him and boy was he a meal… plus two menace children and she was down for it.

Francesca’s betrothed was one of the Stirlings cousins and she chose John, she was happy until he unfortunately passed. She has her inheritance and is ready to remarry, but she grows guilty as she lists for her late husband’s cousin.

Gregory met Lucy and instantly knew that he is to sweep her up and carry her away to their kingdom and shower her the love she never had before, away from her horrible family and cherish her forever.

Hyacinth was a tricky one, she was set to marry a St. Clair. George St.Clair which leaves Garrett who charms her but he refuses her… only until he finds his family jewels and she is up for the ride.

Awww that's so sweet, guys, this medieval au sounds fun and I wouldl ike to read it very much. whoever is up for writing it I would def give a signal boost.

#medieval au #bridgeton au

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blackacre13 · 2 years

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JUST SO YOU KNOW YOU ARE MY FAVE AUTHOR. HOPE YOU HAVE A NICE DAY... MY PROMPT IS BRIDGERTON AU

THANK YOU SO MUCH. I HOPE YOU HAVE A NICE DAY AS WELL.

(I'm so sorry to be the bearer of this news, but unfortunately, I do not watch Bridgerton/do not have plans to, so I will be declining this request)

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sea-owl · 11 months

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I request a governess polin au, hell we can add kathony too.

So let's say that in this au, Kate never went to London and Penelope never had London debut. To help with the family finances Kate set out to become a nurse/governess (I am aware they are two different positions, but just roll with me.) After discovering Lord Featheringtons debts Portia only had enough money to debut one more daughter. After debating she decided to place her bets on Felicity. Neither ever met the Bridgertons.

Somehow Penelope ended up as a sort of apprentice/partner to Kate and the two found a good job within the house of the Duke and Duchess of Hastings. With two of them they are able to take care of the children, Auggie, and Amelia, when they are younger and later teach them as well as any other children the Duke and Duchess may have.

The two get along well with their employers and they have each other so the loneliness that usually comes with their kind of position isn't as bad.

Then comes 1816 aka the year without summer. Things were wet and cold, some of the ton had decided to forgo that season and stay in their country homes. One of those families was the Bassets, who decided to invite the family to Clyvedon for the rest of the season, with possibly taking some time to go to Aubrey Hall.

Of course Kate and Penelope are also at Clyvedon, helping take care of the young lord and ladies.

"Oh Kate, Penelope," Daphne greeted as she walked into the nursery. "You two can take a break for a little while. Just bring the children down to the drawing room, my family will be here soon and I'm sure they'll want to see the babies."

"Yes your grace," Kate and Penelope bowed.

"Thank you-," Daphne cut herself off with a yawn. "Oh forgive me on that."

"It is alright your grace," Kate said.

Daphne fought another yawn as she walked out of the nursery.

Kate and Penelope looked at each other before letting out soft giggles.

"I suppose we'll have another little one soon enough," Kate said as she held onto Auggie's leading strings in one hand and held Belinda in another.

"Good for us, it keeps us employed longer," Penelope joked. She gently bounces Caroline, while her other hand holds Amelia's leading strings. "Looks like you won't be the baby for long young miss."

Kate grinned. "That it does."

The two lead the children down to the family drawing room where Simon was waiting. After that they were temporarily free for probably most of the afternoon if this was like the other visits from the duchess' family. Not that Kate and Penelope haven't really had any more than brief glimpses at the infamous Bridgertons.

After that Kate went to take a walk while Penelope went down to the kitchen for some leftovers cook left since she missed breakfast.

Enter Anthony and Colin.

Anthony had ridden separate from his family as he had to make a stop on the way for business. Unfortunately this also meant that Anthony had gotten caught in the rain on his way. Colin had gotten back just in time for them to leave and had not yet had a chance to change out of his traveling clothes nor a chance to really eat anything. Suffice to say they did not really look like sons of a high bred family.

Kate just happened to be passing by when Anthony rode up to Clyvedon.

Kate had to stop herself from raising an eyebrow at the soaked man who was foolish to ride out into the rain. If she had to guess he may have been one of the tenets. Just as they always did during the first day of guest arriving, the duke and duchess gave strict orders that they are not to be disturbed.

"Excuse me," the man said. "You could you direct me to where Simon and Daphne are?"

Kate was taken aback. She has never heard of a tenet being so informal. "I'm sorry sir, but their graces are not seeing to any business today. The duchess' family had arrived today."

The tenet looked annoyed. "I assure you they are expecting me."

"Sir," Kare sighed, then yelled when he pushed past her. "Sir!"

That's when Kate heard the bell designated for the nurses and governesses. Well fine, she'll just let her employers handle the tenet.

Meanwhile Colin had sneaked down to the kitchen. He was a growing boy after all, and he hadn't eaten all day.

He was surprised to see a cute red down there happily eating an eclair.

"Is there anymore?" Colin asked her.

Penelope jumped, just barely catching the custard that fell. Turning towards Colin she did in fact raise an eyebrow. She has not seen this man before. Penelope could place almost all the servants at Clyvedon by face and she has seen this one. Plus his clothing does not look like anything any of the servants would be wearing. Nor is he looking at her food like anyone else she has met before.

"I'm sorry sir, but this was the only one Cook had set aside. The rest are being served to her grace's family," Penelope said.

The man's eyes lit up at the mere mention of more food. "Really? Oh must show me where they are!"

What was this man? Some kind of interloper? Penelope would rather not show him where the duke and duchess are, but blast. It looks like she might not have a choice. That was the bell to summon her and Kate. Well hopefully if he does follow the duke will take care of it.

Kate and Penelope met at the entrance of the drawing room both of them looking at their partner with a questioning look at the strange man following.

Before Kate or Penelope could stop them the tenet and the interloper both walk into the drawing room.

"Anthony!"

"Colin!"

Oh fuck, Kate and Penelope knew those names. Those were the names of the duchess' brothers, the Viscount Bridgerton and the third Bridgerton. And now among the rest of their siblings Kate and Penelope could see the resemblance.

#anthony and colin: pretty lady😍😍#daphne: QUIT TRYING TO SEDUCE MY STAFF #so in general a governess was a daughter to a middle or upper class family that generally fell on hard times #it was not an enviable position since they were basically outcasts among the staff #generally born too high and too educated for the rest of the staff but also not on equal level to their employers #the one they more than likely worked the most with was the nanny since they both were responsible for the raising and education of the kids #I would've done the saphne kids older but i thought 1816 would fit better due to how cold it was that year and indoor bound others would be #bridgerton #kathony #polin #governess au #kate sharma #kate sheffield #penelope featherington #anthony bridgeton #colin brigerton

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cypanache · 2 months

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Im joining the Obidala fandom and I read your unintended Obidala story and I gotta say, I love it!! And the artwork is beautiful!!!

First and most important ... Welcome to Obidala!!! I obviously adore this tugboat of a ship, but even moreso I adore this little corner of the fandom. We are a small but dedicated group. I just really came to Star Wars in 2022 post OWK and everyone here has truly been so lovely. Please don't be a stranger. Come flail with us. I can talk about these two endlessly in every possible permutation.

Second, isn't the art amazing?! It's not mine. The credit for all that extra yumminess that just adds to the experience goes to my bestie and writing muse @alabama-metal-man. Without whom this story would not exist.

Finally, I'm so happy you're enjoying Unintended. It's my ode to what happened to my brain when I watch OWK and became obsessed with Obidala in the exact same month I watched the first two seasons of Bridgerton, and I've been humbled by it's reception so far. I know it's been awhile since I updated, but I've been actively working on the next few parts, pulling things together from snippets that had been posted on tumblr previously and fleshing them out. It's been slow going because of work life stuff, but rest assured I have not gone anywhere and it is coming.

#obidala #cy answers things #fic: unintended #obidala bridgeton au

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hiatuswhore · 2 years

Text

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝐼𝐼𝐼 — 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓉𝑜𝓃

♕ A/N: I am so sorry for disappearing!! This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I forgot about blinked and suddenly it was mid July. Feedback pleaseeee! Feedback motivates me to write.

♕ SUMMARY: Oh, the most scandalous season of the year has come to pass. After quite the successful year for the Bridgerton’s the eldest son plans to throw his hat in the ring. Concurrently the Sharma sisters do just the same. One a spinster, the other hopeful romantic, and the middle daughter? What can be said about such a force that is not said when she enters the room. Good luck to all who pursue her.

♕ WORD COUNT: 8.1K

♕ WARNINGS: None

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“LORD BEAUREGARD, (Y/N), ARE YOU MAKING YOUR EXIT? I shall join you both. It is a rather hot day,” Your mother says, smiling kindly. You do not fail to miss the pointed look in her eye. The word of you and the Duke leaving unchaperoned would spread across the ton like an uncontrollable wildfire. Arriving with a Bridgerton and leaving with a Royal would be the topic of the ton for weeks.

Back at the Danbury house, your mother excuses herself leaving you both under the eye of a maid. The moment she leaves your sight you drop your clasp hands and uniform posture earning a chuckle from William.

“I must inquire of your passionate vendetta against marriage,” William says, walking toward the stairs you both walk at an even pace. You grimace as the two of you enter the terrace and your eyes look off into the vast beauty of nature.

“If I am to share this with you, you musn’t tell a single soul. I will be putting my trust in you, a true test of our friendship. Do you accept this or shall I not disclose?” Despite the whimsical glint in your eyes, he could see the hesitation hiding within your features. William properly clasps his hands behind his back before nodding his head. His soft expression and full attention makes you believe in something you question regularly, good nature. “Well I assume it's not a secret of my mothers history with the ton. She and Kate have put all of their efforts into shaping Edwina and I to be desirable. Why must I sing and dance well to make a good wife? Am I interesting? Do I make you happy? Those are the true questions for marriage, not qualities to show off like a circus act. I—my grandparents, the Sheffields—I was ten when I found out. I wasn’t supposed to know. Edwina was changing and I was doing what I do best, not following directions. Kate and Mom were arguing about my grandparents and then I heard it. The Sheffields care not of our happiness and the only way to gain our dowry and their love is through marrying an Englishmen, especially one of nobility.”

“You aim to defy them by never marrying?” You both stop on the back porch soaking in the waning sun. The sun makes your skin glow and William cannot tear his eyes off of you. You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath, seconds pass before your eyes open again and a glare replaces the peaceful one.

“I aim to humiliate them. Their daughter married below her station and their granddaughter a spinster. Edwina deserves a happy life full of love, it suits her. I want to find my joy from something else. Once a spinster I will be free of the ton's expectations of me,” You explain, meeting William’s gaze his full attention did not falter.

“I do apologize if I speak in circumstances I do not fully comprehend but do you not rob your sister of her truth?” Your shoulders fall as you ponder the question. In the past you found yourself dancing with the option of telling Edwina the truth and curiosity brought wonder of what she would do.

“I’m not entirely certain. We fear she will wed out of duty rather than love. Our parents loved each other very much, she wants what has been modeled for us,” Your father clouds your thoughts as you grasp at a reality that no longer exists. The way he would dance with your mother some nights in the kitchen or how you would wake to fresh flowers on the kitchen table. While his love for his wife was great, his love for his daughters was far greater.

“What shall occur if you find the love that was shown in your childhood home?” A small chuckle leaves your lips as you lean on the white pillar of the back porch. William smiles, his eyebrows furrowing at the sudden amusement.

“A love like that? I can never imagine such love being found in this marriage market,” You turn toward the blue sky that now bleeds with pockets of orange. A hare scampers across the field adding to the soft hum of blissful silence. William watches you for many minutes, one would think he takes mental notes to later document. His adoration sits on full display for every living being in proximity to see. Newton joins the two of you for a short time and you are sure your mother instructed everyone to leave you and William to stargaze. You giggle at how Newton nuzzles into William’s side.

Newton licking your face stirs you from your rest. The morning sun earns a loud groan from your lips as you slip beneath your blanket. Newton wastes no time in stepping on your face as he closely inspects the thin blanket that separates you.

“Newton please!” You whine but his excitement does not cease. Pulling back you fail to glare at his sweet smile as he moves to lick your face. You sit up on your elbows to find both Edwina and Kate’s beds empty. Not a single servant or your mother in sight brings a growing smirk to your features. In the closet, you throw several gowns around until the tan riding pants come into view. Newton sits on your bed watching you with his tail wagging and tongue hanging.

Standing in the mirror you ignore the inevitable pointed stare of your mother. The white shirt and black boots appear so simple but your eyes light up at the sight.

“I fancy a walk, what do you think Newton?” You ask, earning a bark from the corgi; scratching the top of his head you head toward the door. He quickly jumps from the bed following you out. While your family and Lady Danbury chat in the tearoom, you slip out of the front. It takes several minutes to get Newton to stop wiggling so you can button his collar. You follow the dirt path leading away from the manor for several minutes. The sun beats down like a force to be reckoned with and you regret not bringing water along. When the two of you turn back you walk across the grass begrudgingly, “Fancy we’ll fall slain to the sun. Hell of a way to go Newton.”

Your dry chuckle does nothing to curb your discomfort but as the house draws closer you practically taste the water on your tongue. The front yard displays a sight that shoots amusement throughout your chest. Newton growls at the sight of the eldest Bridgerton standing next to a horse. You raise an eyebrow reeling in Newton’s leash as Anthony meets your gaze.

“Pray tell what nonsense, do you engage your time in now?” The question makes you audibly laugh as you eye the beautiful horse behind him. You tilt your head as he adjusts his jacket asking what was so amusing.

“You never fail to humor me, Lord Bridgerton. Rather than boring you with my feeble-minded lady-like activities pray tell why you stand here now gifting a horse…for Kate?” Your lip quivers as you struggle to fight the smirk that aches to make an appearance. Anthony’s eyebrows furrow at your words but he cannot respond as Kate comes charging out of Danbury house.

“How much clearer must I be?” Kate questions and Anthony announces the rather large gift for Edwina. Newton nuzzles into the side of your leg as you intently watch steam practically pour out from Kate’s ears. “Take your Trojan horse elsewhere.”

“I assure you, Miss Sharma, this is a very real horse. I’d not recommend trying to climb inside,” Anthony says. The chuckles that leave your lips are involuntary and you do not stifle them at the sight of Kate’s glare. Anthony glances at you, finding only amusement in your features.

“Sister, why don’t you take Newton inside? Lord Bridgerton truly this is all a game to you,” Kate says, earning an immediate response from Anthony stating the opposite. As Kate reveals the schemes at the races your eyebrows furrow as a smile dances on your lips.

“Color me impressed, a rather weakly plotted scheme but I appreciate all plots and ploys. Maybe there’s hope for you yet Lord Bridgerton,” You say but the sound of your name on Kate’s lips tells you she no longer wishes to tolerate your games. “Let’s go, Newton, we both know Lord Bridgerton won’t be removing his foot from his mouth any time soon.”

Anthony says nothing at the jab and you miss how he narrows his eyes at your back as a smile ghosts on his lips. You pass Edwina on your journey back inside, she greets you with her usual upbeat smile. While she notes your uncharacteristically cheery persona her confusion soon clears at the sight of Kate and Anthony bickering.

“Perfection. Just who I was looking for,” Your mother says, handing Newton off to one of the maids, Mary rushes you up the stairs. She sits you down and slowly brushes your hair.

“Mama, has something happened?” You ask. Mary shakes her head smiling down at you with a warm devotion. You keep a cautious eye on your mother as she turns your head to the mirror forcing you to look at yourself.

“Dearest I know we do not particularly see eye to eye on many things but there is one thing. You are beautiful. I know this may be confusing. I just fear I put all my energy into Edwina’s season that I may be neglecting you,” Mary reveals. You frown at her words.

“Mama you know I have no desire to marry but Edwina does. I understand that right now is a busy time for her and she needs us, especially you to help her through all this,” Placing your hand on your mothers you give it a light squeeze as you look up at her. She asks if you are certain but you promise her that things feel more than ordinary.

“Fine but humor me, love. Look at yourself in the mirror once more. I understand you wish to not marry but promise you will not actively evade your chance to be happy,” Staring at your reflection your self-esteem equates to a large glasshouse. The confidence you carry comes with a bright red fragile sticker on the front. You squeeze Mary’s hand again as you give her your word.

Your mother brushes your hair back into small pins which she covers with small flowers. As the guests pour in you stand with a cordial smile as your eyes scan the room for the Duke. When he does arrive you are taken back by the intricacy of his suit. He wears all black with a white undershirt that pops due to the consistency of black. His gold cufflinks glimmer under the light and his hair sits with near curls framing his face.

“Miss Sharma,” He greets properly and your mouth dries as you cannot take your eyes off of him. You fail to notice how your mother smiles at the sight of the interaction and she greets the Duke when you do not find the will to move or works to speak. He thanks Lady Danbury for having him and greets your sister accordingly.

“Are you still certain of your disdain to marry?” Lady Danbury taunts with a smirk on her lips as your sisters giggle. Your mother smiles as you scramble to remove the attention from yourself.

“Just because I do not wish to marry does not mean I cannot find a man to be visibly pleasing. Lord Beauregard looks rather handsome and I was taken aback is all. Shall we continue to greet our guests?” You turn forward and as if on queue more guests arrive.

Gathering in one of the many large rooms you sit with Edwina on the couch. Front and center to all of the talents it would be a lie to say you are not enjoying yourself. While you have yet to have another moment with William, you still mindlessly scan the room in search of his presence. You miss his return to the room with Kate as the men showcase many curiosities. Your favorite so far being Lord Darlington turning a flame into a flower.

“At least it is the men making fools of themselves this time,” Your sister says, revealing herself to be standing directly behind you.

“You say that as though men do not make fools of themselves regularly,” You say, standing next to your sister Eloise joins in on the laughter. She asks if the idea had been from either of you. “I cannot take credit for this brilliance.”

“I wish I could take credit, but no. Lady Danbury encouraged a poetry reading. The men, thanks to their spirit and competition concocted the rest of this farce on their own,” Kate explains and the three of you refocus your attention forward. Despite not paying much attention to Lord Bakers tap dancing you still politely clap with the others. You lean back on the couch, beginning to bore with the so-called talents before Lady Danbury announces Lord Beauregard will be doing a poetry reading, an original piece. As he stands in front of you it takes everything not to sit up at the edge of your seat.

“Hello, all. I am no poet, I just speak from the heart so please do try to not judge me too harshly. Save the advent of pitchforks for the end if my poetry proves to require such a reaction,” Light chuckles carry throughout the room as you watch him shift. You wonder if the others notice the slight tremble of his hands as he fiddles with a piece of paper. He glances up a final time meeting your gaze, you offer a light smile as you provide him your full attention. Taking a deep breath, he mutters an apology before looking down at his paper, “Shakespeare compares thee to a summer's day. I find thee more peculiar. Her uncanny nature intoxicating, the lack of her presence maddening. For that, I cannot compare thee to a summer day. A summer's day is incomparable to thee. I pray she grants respite and allows me at her side for as long as time permits. Dare I say it? I love her. So much so, I torture myself to allow her, her happiness.”

A chorus of awes fills the room and the intensity of the clapping only adds to the stir in your chest. You do not move. Not an inch as you stare at William as though he stands with a gun pointing in your direction. As if a threat has been made to your life. Edwina claps vigorously and she leans in whispering something you do not register in your ear. Lady Danbury announces an intermission to which you rise from the couch and rush into the corridor. Though you hear William call your name it only makes your hasty exit more eager. You round the corner toward the foyer with your eyes lingering over your shoulder. The speed at which you march forward and your heels come to a halt as you crash into another.

“My apologies,” You say, absently as your eyes stay over your shoulder. Anthony frowns as his hands hold your elbows and follows your gaze. When you meet his gaze you fail to drop the worry in your eyes. You practically cling to Anthony as press further into his hold in attempts to get away.

“It’s quite alright. Are you okay Miss Sharma?” Anthony asks. His eyebrows furrowed as he searches for what urgently evade. You look over your shoulder once more to find William lingering by the hall. He offers a weak smile and you thank your lucky stars as Lady Danbury announces the festivities shall continue.

“I should get back to my sister's side. Lord Bridgerton,” Your words jumble and you curtsy before turning around and passing William back into the main room. The two men say nothing as they follow you. On the couch, while you appear to place your full attention forward you actively fight every ache to look back. You are certain William stands within the room watching you. Anthony at the last minute asks for the room to grant him audience, much to Kate’s chagrin it’s happily accepted. You frown as he removes a paper from his pocket and begins reading.

“What is it truly to admire a woman? To look at her and feel inspiration. To delight in her beauty, so much that all your defenses crumble, that you would willingly take on any pain, any burden for her. To honor—“ He looks up meeting Edwina’s bright eyes and large smile. Though it appears the poem achieves all he hoped for, his eyes linger just inches to the right. You sit back on the couch, slouching with an eyebrow raised. He’s certain you can see right through him as your nose scrunches while you search for the source of his abrupt pause he speaks again, “To honor—“

His eyes find Kate’s to his right and she shares your expression. Her eyebrows pull inward as her jaw clenches and she keeps her hands properly clasped in front of her. Anthony turns toward the crowd, he finds his mother and Lady Danbury appearing unfazed. Despite their attempts, he can see the lining of disapproval in their eyes. Bringing his hands together he crumbles Benedict's poem before the entire room. He turns toward the fire, dropping the paper in.

“My apologies. I cannot do this. I cannot claim these words as my own. They are someone elses entirely. Truth be told, I’m not—I’m not a man of poetry. Words of flattery are beautiful and sweet but they are also hollow unless accompanied by action,” Anthony sighs as he brings his hand up and scratches the back of his ear. Not a single person in the room moves a single muscle and the crackling of the fireplace brings a soft hum to your ears. Anthony meets your gaze briefly, his words holding your mind hostage. No matter how hypnotizing the moment feels Anthony still breaks it and looks to the right of you, “Miss Edwina, I could stand here and pretend to be someone I am not. I could pretend to want the very same things as you, but I’d be lying. I may not be able to offer the display of passion that you truly deserve but I assure you that when it comes to action and duty. I shall never be found lacking and I hope that will speak louder than any pretty words ever can.”

The clapping that follows provides the perfect smokescreen to make your exit. As you once again reach the corridor you continue to the kitchen to find the staff scrambling. You grab an cookie before returning out into the hall. Kate stands a few feet back as William stands against the wall parallel to the kitchen. You frown at your sister's presence and William’s nervous eyes before it all clicks.

“No. Not now,” You say, rushing down the hall a sigh leaves you as William and Kate follow. Kate hangs back keeping the two of you in view but not close enough to be intrusive.

“Wait, wait, wait. (Y/n) talk to me?” William says, grabbing you gently he pulls you off to the side. He frowns as you avoid looking at him, “Have I done something to offend you?”

“No I—William I cannot do this,” You try to blink away the burning in your eyes. Kate keeps her gaze off the two of you as she silently listens in.

“Why don’t we get some air okay, yeah?” William says, nodding your head you allow him to escort you outside to the front of Danbury House. Kate lingers in the doorway as the two of you take a seat on the steps. The silence that follows eases the thick fog that clouds your nerves. You feel it when William’s gaze moves from the distance onto your rigid exterior.

“I would hate to sound presumptuous but would one be correct in her assumption that your poem was about me?” You ask, meeting his gaze your tired eyes reveal little of what goes on behind them. He nods his head as he reaches into his pocket revealing the paper. Your name’s written at the top of the paper and the poem sits neatly beneath. He reaches to the inside of his jacket pocket retrieving a small box.

“Do not make haste with your answer for I beseech you to truly consider all that I may offer. I know our time together has been short but please hear me (Y/n). I wish to make all your dreams a reality. All the words I spoke were nothing short of true. I ask not for your love but your companionship. If I cannot have you as my lover and wife then I will accept you as my friend and wife. You will have the luxury of the freedom you so desire and I, your presence and security of marriage. We can be happy. I can make you happy I am sure of it.”

You chew on your bottom lip as your mind scrambles to remove yourself from the situation. He holds the box out to you to which you accept it with cautious eyes. Upon opening the box the gold band and medium-sized diamond glimmers under the soft lighting. You say nothing as William describes his process of choosing the ring, his goal to reflect your personality.

“Are you calling me simple?” You ask, raising an eyebrow but William rolls his eyes nudging your side. He explains his understanding of your joy with simplicity but also chaos which comes with the news if you accept the proposal. All that you live wrapped into one gesture. The soft chuckle that leaves the two of you eases the suffocating tension but it does not change it. “Your offer is more than generous but in a way a lie William. You are a part of the royal family. Marrying you brings a royal wedding with responsibilities and expectations I can never meet.”

“We can face all of those obstacles together. You will have more freedom and resources than you can ever imagine,” William says, resting his arms on his knees as he looks at your indifferent expression. You point out the push there will be for providing heirs. “And that is a discussion that only includes myself, you, and a doctor. I understand this proposal consists of several different aspects that must be discussed. For now, all I ask is for you to take the prospect of marriage into consideration and know I will happily spend the rest of my life trying to bring you joy. That is only if you will allow me.”

You keep your eyes on Newton who sits in Kate’s lap across from you as you thank the heavens word of William’s proposal has not gotten out. Lady Whistledown focuses her attention solely on their invitation to Aubrey Hall, apparently known for its beauty and history of the Bridgertons.

“Perhaps, I’ll wear the pink silks at dinner tonight. Do you think Lord Bridgerton will like it?” Edwina asks, her gaze bouncing from you to Kate with an eagerness that makes you want to roll your eyes.

“Probably? We’ve all met Viscount Bridgerton, not a single original thought in his head. All duty, worry and reservations. You embody perfection Bon, not a chance he does not like it,” You say earning a light kick to your shin from Kate who reassures Edwina. Edwina merely nudges you with her usual smile on her lips. Despite your rather offensive words Edwina only smiles at your hostile wit, over the years it has been apparent you do no wrong in her eyes.

“You need not worry about the Viscount's favor, Miss Edwina. It is an exceedingly good sign he has invited us to spend a few days with the family and their close family friends the Beauregards, before the rest of the ton arrives for the real party,” Lady Danbury says, looking in your direction with a pointed look. This time you do not hold back the roll of your eyes as you divert your attention to outside the carriage. The vast green of nature and vibrant blue of the sky wipe away all discontent you feel in conversation.

“Perhaps by then we can announce two engagements,” Your mother says, keeping your gaze outside of the carriage you pretend to not hear her.

“(Y/n) wouldn’t that just be lovely! We would still be so close, I the Viscountess and you someday a Princess! Do away with whatever is stopping you and imagine the happy lives we would live!” Edwina exclaims, taking your hand she brings it close to her chest as a big smile paints her features. The weak smile you present pairs with a deep hug.

“The Duke of Wales is quite a catch, Miss Sharma. Not only because of his title but I have known him since he was a babe. Nothing short of a gentleman and a man of true honor and dignity,” Lady Danbury says, but as it becomes clear you carry no intention of speaking your mother chimes in.

“That is just wonderful. I have seen how he looks at you dear. He is quite taken with you and I see how you smile with him,” Lady Mary points out and you fight every urge to huff and stomp your feet. Can man and woman not merely enjoy each other's company platonically? You lean back in your seat redirecting your attention to outside once more. Every interaction between yourself and William clouds your thoughts as you weigh the possibilities heavily. It plagues you the rest of the ride ignoring how they discuss the Bridgertons.

You cannot help the drop of your jaw at the sight of the estate as you draw closer. The large amount of land only fills you with excitement at the prospect of exploring. At the stop of the carriage you watch as many faces pour out of the front. Most of them you recognize but you struggle to identify the younger of the bunch. Lady Danbury steps out first greeting her godson with more excitement than you have ever seen her exude. You step out after your mother and Lady Violet greets you with a large smile. Stepping off to the side a smile ghosts on your lips at the seemingly endless fields. Fully enthralled you miss how William approaches your side, even flinching as he speaks.

“My apologies, my intentions were not to startle you, rather bask in the beauty of Aubrey Hall,” William says, offering a smile you cannot find the words to speak. His words from the night prior coming to the forefront of your mind. “I must assure you that there is no need to act differently around me. No matter your decision, you will always be a dear friend to me.”

“What pray tell did I ever do to deserve such a wonderful person in my life? Why would you ever want to marry such a hostile wench as some would say,” You both chuckle falling into that same easy going environment. William nudges your side as he says you speak too highly of him. You raise an eyebrow at the statement but before you can speak another voice diverts both of your attentions from behind.

“Careful William you may discover, dare I say, a personality behind her sharp tongue and cold eyes,” Anthony teases, standing at your left side William now stands across from you. Both Anthony and William chuckle as you roll your eyes at the weak jest.

“Lord Bridgerton, envy looks good on no one,” You point out crossing your arms you raise an eyebrow as a smirk threatens your lips. Anthony’s jaw clenches but the dry chuckle that leaves his lips tell a different tale.

“Is that so, Miss Sharma,” Anthony says, mirroring your crossed arms. The way the two of you move slightly closer brings a frown to William’s face. He says nothing as he silently observes how the two of you verbally push each other further and further. It’s not just the way the two of you stand or even what leaves your mouths but rather the locked eyes. Almost as if the two of you have forgotten William stands with you both.

“William, how dare you never tell me Anthony knew how to be anything beyond boorish?” Despite asking a question you do not move your gaze from Anthony as a mocking laugh leaves his lips.

“I am the boorish one?” His words drip in disbelief as he misses how his best friend shifts uncomfortably. In attempt to remind you both of his presence, he clears his throat but it does nothing as Kate appears at his side with Newton and a redhead at Anthonys. Anthony smiles down at Newton who immediately growls before moving to your ankles. You giggle as Kate points out Newton’s keen sense of one's character.

“I can assure you all by the end of this excursions he will have a much better perception of I,” Anthony says but his gaze stays with you a few seconds longer than necessary before he turns to his sister you have yet to be introduced to. Daphne looks from her brother looking cautiously between you and Kate. A hesitance dances in her eyes as she smiles warmly and settles on Kate.

“You must be Miss Edwina,” She says. You let out a hearty laugh as William clears his throat trying to subtly shake his head. Anthony whips his head toward his sister letting out a sharp no. You watch as she turns to you and you cannot find the strength to stop giggling, “My apologies Miss Sharma. I am Daphne, I guess I should have known you were Miss Edwina, it’s rather seldom that Anthony makes any other face other than one of annoyance.”

“My apologies Miss Daphne you are once again wrong. I can list numerous things I would rather endure than the courting of your brother,” You speak with a matter-of-fact tone before shrugging your shoulders at Anthony. Though her face descends into confusion it fades as Daphne lets out a chuckle, she tilts her head listening attentively. Kate covers her laugh as you hold out your hand to Daphne, “(Y/n) Sharma. I have met your siblings, they are wonderful.”

“No, it is my apologies to both of you. I must say I believe we shall have a fun game of Pall Mall with you all,” Daphne smiles and William asks to escort you inside to which Daphne grabs your arm with a playful look in her eye she says, “The first very interesting women to join us for Pall Mall will not be hogged by the likes of you Beauregard.”

She escorts you inside without another word to the others. You chuckle at how she smiles to herself with pride. She wastes no time in asking about your family and your sisters. You speak honestly about each of them, no fluffing them up in hopes it will secure Edwina a match. The only negatives you list of Edwina consist only of sisterly squabbles. Her unflinching joyful energy and optimistic nature. In actuality they are not negatives but you still say some days it drives you up the wall. “You have a toughness to your nature. I do not think I can list anyone I know like that beyond Lady Danbury.”

“Do not flatter me Miss Bridgerton. I am no different than other women of the ton besides my questionable manners,” You shrug making Daphne’s eyebrows furrow at the gesture but her lips curve up into a smile.

“No wonder Eloise adores you,” Reaching the backyard you can hear the others close behind. A small gasp leaves your lips at the view from the back porch. Your chest knots as you yearn for your fathers presence. He would love this. Violet enters the back porch last with an older woman behind her.

“Well, now, you must be weary from your travels,” Violet says. Tearing your eyes from the view you take a deep breath in to stop how rapidly your abrupt emotions rattle your nerves. William frowns as he meets your gaze, you blow a playful kiss in his direction and a smile takes his lips. You pretend not to notice his lingering eyes, you are sure he can see right through you. “Mrs. Wilson. Please show our guests to their rooms so they might get refreshed.”

You join walking back inside with Edwina and your mother. They both wear appreciative smiles, mirroring each other perfectly. You smile with them but you are certain it sticks out like a sore thumb in comparison.

“And ready for battle,” Eloise says and you turn furrowing your eyebrows with a sneaky grin.

“A battle you say?” Earning grins from both Eloise and Daphne you swiftly bury the intense emotion. No longer at the center of your attention but in a dark corner within your mind.

“I wish to know as well,” Kate says with an open smile, you feel giddy at the sight of competitive Kate. This time more vulnerable than others as you can typically convince her to join one of your schemes. You know it always ends with her lecturing you but it does not make it any less fun.

“Oh please girls, do not mind Eloise, she’s always so spirited in the country,” Violet says as she heards the three of you toward the door. You fail to turn down the amusement in your face. Eloise and Kate fall side by side walking back inside together.

“Then we have that in common,” Kate says smiling at Eloise who grins in delight. You follow behind the two of them until she goes off in her home and you follow Kate toward the rooms. After settling you sit with your leg bouncing, eagerly waiting for this game they all loudly anticipate. When the time comes to meet outside you wear a warm grin. Each of you divide up wickets to place outside. You and your sisters join Daphne around the backyard with a guard lingering by and you cannot help but find his presence odd—rather unnecessary.

“This will teach Colin. Last time, he put a wicket behind the goat barn,” Daphne says, stabbing her wicket into the ground, you walk a few feet over and stab yours into the ground in the middle of the field.

“What exactly are the rules of this game?” Kate asks. The three of you follow Daphne like a flock of baby ducks. Daphne explains Pall-Mall’s less about the rules and more about anticipation.

“Of course there is the goal of hitting your ball through each wicket. The first player to send their ball through the last wicket wins. Simple enough, though, if you are feeling devilish you can use your turn to knock an opponent’s ball as far away from their next wicket as you would like.”

“Why waste a turn if the point is to get one’s own ball through the wicket?” Edwina ask as both you and Kate grin as excitement rises for the game. Kate speaks as soon Edwina stops, “To infuriate your opponent, I gather?”

“Are you truly victorious by merely just winning, or getting a rise out of your opponents?” You bounce off your sisters with the three of you appearing in sync. Daphne’s eyebrows raise and curve up as her jaw gapes for a second. She quickly recovers, smiling at the three of you with a strong welcoming energy.

“How you seek to play the game is your choice alone. No matter what method you decide to go about it is not considered cheating other than using anything other than the mallets. Whether you choose to focus on the wickets or not, you never know what others plan to do. Know your game and your enemy,” Daphne says and Kate perks up, voicing her excitement to play the game. She walks you over by the trees to place another wicket as she explains Benedict’s a good shot but he does not enjoy conflict. “Colin is crafty. He will strike when he think you are least suspecting it so always be suspecting it. Eloise concentrates entirely on defeating her older brothers. The hope is that she gets so absorbed by them that she forgets about you. Keep in mind who will not forget about you, he will not forget about anyone. William’s like a hunter in this game you never know who he will deceive and sometimes he will just go for the wickets. He enjoys our terror when suddenly he’s sending our ball off into the horizon. I, of course, am a complete enigma who will divulge none of my secrets and well, then there is Anthony.”

“Let me guess. A most ruthless, cutthroat player,” Kate says but before anyone can react you speak between laughter, “No way he has the capacity to see past his own hubris to be successful in this game.”

“So you have both met my brother I see,” Daphne smiles as she and Kate join in on your laughter. Edwina’s smile falters at the three of you which makes Daphne's smile fall to worry, “That is not to say he has no honor. He’s usually the most genteel sportsman. Except as far as this field is concerned.”

“I’m sure the Viscount is an excellent player. We will pass a very pleasant afternoon,” Edwina says. Both yourself and Kate bite back a laugh as you offer her a supportive nod. The guards carry out a large wooden case consisting of the mallets. You all linger around it as you watch them argue over who picks first.

“Last year, we promised to let the youngest pick first,” Eloise exclaims and you grin as Anthony speaks with heavy conviction. They appear to debate so ferociously but over minuscule things without actual anger. “We pick based on alphabetical order! That is the precedent.”

“Guests go first, do Bridgertons have no decorum? It should be me every year!” William exclaims taking offense in ways you have never seen. Benedict calls him out on it being several years since William was ever a guest in any of their homes.

“Every year he uses the guest excuse as if he has not grown up here with us,” Colin rolls his eyes as they chuckle while William huffs in defeat.

Kate smiles with you as Edwina leans back to the two of you close. She appears confused as the playful tension, “It’s meant to be a game, is it not?”

“Everyone please now! The only fair thing to do is to let our invited guests choose their mallets and strike first,” Daphne says and you smile as all eyes fall on the three of you. Anthony invites Edwina to choose first and you gag as he compliments her mallet choice. You step forward eyeing each mallet until you settle on a gray one with carefully painted spots on them. Chuckles shoot through the Bridgertons and William.

“It appears you have chosen my mallet Miss Sharma,” Benedict says, forcing a smile onto his lips you could convince one that it was genuine. You spin the mallet in your palm, feeling out the weight as you offer a sardonic smile.

“That’s rather odd. It appears the mallet’s in my hands thus I have chosen my mallet,” You roll your eyes as Edwina patronizes you with her eyes but the others laugh. Colin reassures your sisters that your attitude may prove to be beneficial in such a game. As Kate steps forward you watch as the Bridgertons watch with heavy anticipation.

It does not come as a shock when Kate's hands lift the all-black mallet from the wooden case. The shared look of shock and uncertainty that surrounds you all does make your eyebrows furrow.

“The Mallet of Death,” Eloise says, looking to her elder brother much like the rest of the Bridgertons. Daphne turns to her brother with a mocking smile: William fails to bite back his laughter as Anthony glares daggers in his direction. Benedict joins William's amusement and it becomes clear Kate has chosen Anthony’s mallet.

“Is this yours?” Kate says with a grin as Anthony brings the knuckle of his pointer finger to his teeth.

“Not all. You are welcome to it,” Kate catches your grin at the sight of his forced kindness. William catches your eye sending a wink in your direction to which you chuckle.

“You threatened to beat me last time I touched—“ Colin chimes as Eloise gapes at the sight of Anthony. No matter what Colin plans to share, Anthony cuts it short with a pointed stare and sharp tone, “You exaggerate!”

“Says the one who nearly broke my arm one year over it,” William says crossing his arms over his chest as Eloise agrees.

“Are you the superstitious sort? I know some men cannot perform without their familiar tools. Like a child with a blanket,” Kate says and your jaw drops as you look at your older sister with wide eyes. The urge to laugh strong you bite on your lower lip at the sight of Edwinas uncomfortable expression. Though you show restraint it fools no one as you blink away the faint tears that threaten your eyes.

“I can play well with any mallet,” Anthony says but you do not miss your opportunity as it presents itself.

“Yet you appear stifled in the absence of your beloved mallet. Performance issues are quite common and nothing to be ashamed of,” Your mocking tone and grin earns shameless laughter around you. Both yourself and Kate blending seamlessly with the Bridgertons.

“Always a charmer Miss Sharma,” Anthony says with a smile which you return without pause. You miss how his gaze does not immediately leave you but William and Daphne silently take it in. Neither says a word when they meet each other's gaze and the moment ends as fast as it begins. Eloise seizes the moment as many of her siblings appear distracted. She acquires her mallet while Benedict takes William’s. William moves a second faster than Colin, taking his mallet in the process. Colin holds one of the extra mallets in his hand leaving with Anthony with the pink one.

“How befitting, Viscount Bridgerton.” Your tone sickenly sweet as you playfully swing your mallet. Anthony takes a half step forward narrowing his eyes at your nonchalant expression.

“Mark my words Miss Sharma. Your taunts will prove fruitless,” You only offer a smile as you bump his shoulder to join Daphne. The field begins light, much laughter and clapping as the Mamas, Lady Danbury, and the Prince watch on. Kate takes the opportunity to knock your ball from reach of the wicket.

“Didi! Do well to remember we sleep beneath the same roof,” You say as the others laugh and Kate shrugs. “Bon, do well to remember we share the same competitive nature.”

The two of you carry on this fashion for several turns. Both of you knock each other out of route when the opportunity arises. Edwina says little to nothing for much of it. You almost forget her presence as the environment swallows you whole. It’s painfully clear the Bridgertons adore your own and Kate's presence. The game of Pall-mall solidifies both of your abilities to be around the family for more than simple visits. Without prior knowledge one would assume you were long time friends with each and everyone of the Bridgerton siblings.

“Out of practice my brother,” Benedict says as Anthony misses his wicket. Kate smiles mockingly before shooting her own straight through from a similar distance. She jumps and spins happily as the rest of you clap and it’s once again your turn for the same wicket from a further distance.

“Rather easy shot is it not?” You question to know one in particular but it lands with Anthony as soon as it leaves your lips. He opens his mouth to counter your sly remark but as you hit your ball through the wicket claps silence him. You look up and tilt your head at the sight of his gaping mouth, “Were you to say something?”

“Good shot,” Anthony says, clapping slowly as you offer a false curtsy. William stands with a blank expression as he lines up his shot. He misses his wicket entirely and when you make a sly jab he only offers a cordial smile. As all of you move to the next turn you walk over and join his side.

“You’ve gone quiet. Does something trouble you?” You ask but William does not turn to meet your gaze. He mutters quickly about a headache before abandoning the conversation entirely. Anthony makes a show of his turn only to miss, which Kate follows by hitting her ball through the wicket perfectly. Once again your turn you line up your mallet as if you plan to hit toward the wicket. In the last second you turn ever slightly aiming directly at Colins. A chorus of gasps fill your ears as you all watch Colins ball soar far from the wicket.

“Now what could I ever have done Miss Sharma to deserve such treatment?” Colin chuckles but his question receives a shrug in response as the others laugh.

“I fear Miss Sharma may have been born for this game. I hold nor a single inkling of whom she may target,” Benedict says and you shrug a second time before saying that everyone’s fair game. William goes and though he has an opportunity to knock Edwina’s ball but he focuses on the wicket. He goes straight through with ease but rather than join the banter he quietly steps aside.

“Miss Edwina, I believe you are next. I did not wish to leave my ball in your path. So I left an open space so you can send yours,” Anthony joins your sister's side pointing to the open space left accessible to her.

“Is your best friend always this vomit inducing?” Nudging William’s side you chuckle to find he does not partake in your amusement. You frown as once again William blatantly ignores you. “One minute you’re asking me to be your wife and the next you won’t meet my eye. Have I upset you?”

“You could never upset me, (Y/n). I—there are things I fear may not only be in my head,” He finally meets your gaze and your mind can only think of his poem. So the pain he spoke of, now on full display. While his face does not tell a story his eyes tell it all.

“William, you speak in riddles. What is the meaning of this all?” You ask, the cheers and sighs of the others drowning away in the background. William sighs heavily and you can see he internally battles with his next move.

“I—“ Anthony makes you flinch as his voice rips you from the intensity of the conversation. He says it's your turn with the unneeded addition of challenging your courage.

“Scared? Do you project your own fear onto me?” You ask tilting your head as you mimic Anthony’s sardonic smile. Willams jaw clenches as he grips his mallet tightly with his eyes on Anthony. Your mind forgets the conversation momentarily as you line up your shot.

“Miss Sharma you are rather hilarious. What would I fear? Your sharp tongue are merely hollow words on this battlefield,” Anthony says. Your eyes on the wicket it’s a clean shot and would put you ahead of Kate, Anthony, and Colin. Though you have this opportunity Anthony continues taunting in your ear like a bird on your shoulder. Before swinging your mallet you turn your aim directly onto Anthony’s ball. You swing hard before watching his ball fly off and land by Kate’s.

“You were saying, Lord Bridgerton?” Not getting a response in the next moves both Kate and Anthony’s ball are hit into the forest. You consider dropping out not only to check on Edwina as she retires from the game early but also to confront William on his peculiar attitude. Both use the excuse of refreshments to leave the game and you are certain they are untrue. Now the only few left standing are yourself, Colin, Benedict, Eloise, and Daphne. You smile while Colin, Benedict, and Eloise bicker endlessly over the game.

“I don’t wish to overstep in affairs that are not my own but William is very fond of you. I’ve known him all my life and I have never seen him like this about anyone. You will find that no man is more devoted and caring than he,” She says, nodding your head, you offer her not a slither of your thoughts.

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lawonderlandwriter · 2 months

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Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen Characters: Daenerys Targaryen, Rhaegar Targaryen, Jon Snow, Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia), Aegon Targaryen (Son of Elia), Rhaella Targaryen (Wife of Aerys II), Viserys Targaryen (Brother of Daenerys), Olenna Tyrell, Cersei Lannister Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Regency, Regency Era, Alternate Universe - Bridgerton (TV) Fusion, Daenerys as Daphne, Jon as Simon, NO rape or no-con, Eventual Smut, slowish burn, depends on how long it takes me to write it really, age history and relationship changes for my own convenience, Don't Like Don't Read, Aunt/Nephew Incest, Targaryen incest is still a thing and totally acceptable, copy pasta the Bridgerton script in places, if that's not your thing you don't have to read Summary:

Jon and Dany's ruse gets more complicated than either of them expected as Ser Jorah refuses to be set aside so easily.

#jonerys fanfic #jonerys #Alex writes #shit I write #Alex continues a fic for once #Bridgeton AU #Jonerys Bridgerton AU #Anyone feel like creating a moodboard for this?#I would love you lots if you did

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stars-of-kyber · 1 year

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Lost, Drifting - Chapter 1 - Soldier Side

"Anthony Sharma could not remember anything from his life. Well, not anything before Kate had found him in the Sharma’s estate, bleeding and bruised nearly to death four years ago. In all honesty, he couldn’t remember much of that either.

___________________________________________________ Colin discovered his brother was alive four years after he was declared presumed dead. But what happened to Anthony in that time?"

Have just updated Lost Drifting.

Frennie, @waterlilyrose and @kateandanthonyaremyparents, wouldn't have done it without you. Thank you so very much <3

Part 1 of understanding how Anthony ended up in the situation we see him in the ending of the prologue.

Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

#My writing #Lost drifting #Memory Loss AU #Post WWI AU #Kanthony #Kathony #kate sharma #anthony bridgeton #bridgerton

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bridgertonbabe · 7 months

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How do Edmund and Violet adopt the Crane twins once Eloise and Phillips relationship is out in the open?

How important is it for Eloise that the twins are accepted by her family?

Seeing as Violet had experienced a vision of Eloise and Phillip getting together after seeing them chatting at Daphne's wedding, she knew the babies Phillip would soon become father to would end up becoming her step-grandchildren and so she went out of her way early on to offer Phillip and Eloise support once her daughter moved in with the new dad.

She'd invite them over to Aubrey Hollow and offer to look after the twins if they needed a day of respite, an offer that the pair were relieved to take advantage of so they could have a chance to catch up on housework. From the very beginning neither Violet nor Edmund treated the twins any differently from their own biological grandchildren, making just as big a fuss over them when they were babysitting, and even when they had Amelia, Belinda, and Neddy also under their roof (they absolutely loved hosting a creche full of grandbabies) they were all treated equally.

And while Eloise worries that the twins might not be as readily accepted into the family fold as the rest of her nieces and nephews are, she soon realises she had nothing to be anxious about when Oliver and Amanda are gifted hand-knitted jumpers by Violet with their initials sewn on at Christmas; a Bridgerton tradition that assures Eloise that the twins are very much already part of the family.

#asks #harry potter au #eloise bridgeton #violet bridgerton #oliver crane #amanda crane

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lumosinlove · 1 year

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Day Eleven:

On the eleventh day of Winterfic, Hazel gave to you, Bridgerton AU Part Three

Logan could do nothing but stare back at Leo. His blond hair looked bright in the moonlight, a white-gold that made his eyes seem even paler, almost silver. Even his tuxedo looked paler, the black bleeding out into the night and replaced by a fairer gray-white. Leo wasn’t holding their cups of punch anymore and his fingers curled at his sides, empty.

Logan felt too exposed. Not even the circle of tall trees helped. Not even the fountain, whose trickling at least did something to fill the silence. The crickets, too, all around them. No one had ever seen him and Finn like this. This close and curled against each other. Finn had released Logan immediately, stumbling backwards and catching himself on the edge of the fountain. Logan could only watch him from the corner of his eye, unable to take his gaze off of Leo.

For so many, this was a nightmare. A lover, a garden. A dark night, a full moon. An intruder and prying eyes. Logan’s mind took him through two thousand possibilities, as it had so many times before. With all the wonderful things that came with loving Finn—waking up to his warm skin and his familiar voice, having his hand to hold on evening walks—there also came all the things they were both afraid of. The first of which had become a reality when Noelle had met Finn on the staircase up to Logan’s room. But Noelle was Noelle. Logan could never be afraid of her.

This was Lord Leo Knut. He had every connection, ever possible good fortune in the world. He had just danced with Logan—three times—only to find him kissing and confessing his love (if he had even heard that part) to another boy. He had every single right and means to put into reality everything that Logan and Finn feared.

So why, why wasn’t Logan more afraid of him?

“God, I’m—” Leo began, and fell a step back, too, just as Finn had. He looked down at the grass between them, as if that would restore their privacy and undo what had just happened. “I’m so sorry, I…I didn’t mean…”

Logan tried to form the words he wanted, but all he seemed to be able to do was look at Finn, and then at Leo. Finn was still clutching the lip of the fountain with white knuckles, frozen into place. A summer breeze picked up, and his ruffling hair and rapidly rising chest were the only things giving him away as a human and not one of the statued Greek figurines that forever poured the water out of their amphorae.

Leo seemed to be having the opposite problem. His hands were nervous at his sides, and he stumbled over his words. “I worried…You never came back, so—And I thought maybe something was—Whatever made you go, you looked so surprised, or perhaps I thought scared, and so I wanted to make sure—”

“It’s all right, Leo,” Logan finally managed, then looked back at Finn, who’s eyes were wide and afraid. “Finn, it’s okay. He’s—he’s a friend.”

Logan didn’t know what made him say it. They’d only just met, but something was there, obviously, keeping Logan calm. Or maybe it was what wasn’t there. Nothing about Leo’s face told Logan he was about to go running to tell. Nothing about his face looked horrified, either. It was obvious Finn was a servant by the way he was dressed, but Leo made no confused glances or questions. He was looking respectfully away, head bowed, hands behind his back—fingers twisting together furiously by the looks of it.

“I’m was just going,” Finn said suddenly, and bowed to Logan. “My Lord.”

Logan’s heart lurched.

Finn bowed to Leo. “My Lord.”

Logan reached out and caught Finn’s hand. “Don’t. Finn, don’t, it’s all right—”

Finn just closed both of his hands around Logan’s and squeezed firmly, his back towards Leo. He looked more nervous than before, cheeks high in color, brown eyes a little wild. He kept his voice low. “We will see each other tomorrow. We will. Remember what I said—”

“No,” Leo called. “Sir, please, it was my intrusion.”

“Logan, please trust me,” Finn whispered when Logan wouldn’t let him go.

Logan could only shake his head. “I don’t understand.”

“I know,” Finn whispered. “I know you don’t, and—and I will explain it all, I promise.” He glanced back towards Leo. “Only not now.”

Finn’s hand slipped through Logan’s fingers and he watched his red hair disappear into the night with nothing but the slight rustle of his footsteps in the grass. He was only partially aware of Leo stepping towards him, his fingers brushing his arm.

“Logan,” Leo said gently, and when Logan looked at him, he was gazing after Finn, eyes puzzled.

“Please, don’t look at him like that,” Logan said softly. “He’s not—Don’t tell me you care that he’s…”

“No,” Leo said. “God, no, what must you think of me? It was only…I feel as though we have met before. I only can’t quite place him.”

Logan was too exhausted to bring up the markets, or the cooking. Tomorrow, Finn had said. They would next see each other tomorrow. Not tonight. Not at home. Logan tried to think of why, why would he not tell Logan to come with him now, or even to meet him at home like they had planned.

Only, Logan thought of his mother back in the ballroom. She was probably throwing a silent fit. No doubt people had seen him rush out. At least Leo had waited some moments, but wasn’t that Logan’s oldest trick in the book? I’ll go, you wait five minutes, and then follow.

“We should go back,” Logan said softly. “This isn’t…”

“If you say proper, I’ll remind you that we are practically engaged.”

Logan looked up at him sharply, but only to see that Leo was smiling hesitantly.

“That was a joke,” Leo said softly. He held out his arm. “I…you don’t have to explain anything to me, my Lord. Logan. We hardly know each other. Only I ask—please let me escort you back inside. We can show our faces, and then you can do whatever you wish. We don’t have to dance, we don’t have to talk. You can even make your goodbyes.”

Logan could only stare at him. It was a risk, it was all a risk. “Aren’t you worried—”

“Logan,” Leo said gently, and put a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “I have nothing to fear. I’m privileged in that way. I am lucky. I’m not worried about anything. What could I have to fear? People saying that the most handsome boy in the room has taken me to the gardens for a midnight stroll?”

“I have a reputation,” Logan reminded him, flush on his cheeks. “It is a midnight one, but it’s certainly not for strolling.”

The smile Leo gave him was surprisingly sharp, eyes turning playful. “Then I should be so lucky.”

Logan couldn’t explain it, but his breath caught in his chest at seeing such a look on Leo’s face.

“I…” Logan shook his head. “I don’t know why he ran away. I mean, I do, but…” He looked in the direction Finn had gone. “I don’t know…” We will see each other tomorrow. Remember what I said.

“He was scared,” Leo said and began guiding Logan back towards the ballroom. “You were, too, when you first saw me. I could tell.”

“I was surprised,” Logan said. “There’s a difference.”

The garden became brighter as they ascended the stairs back up to the patio. They stood for a moment, watching the dancers whirling within.

“At least one of us doesn’t look like they’ve been snogging,” Leo said, and it startled a laugh out of Logan, who put a hand to his mouth.

“God, do I?”

Leo smiled. “No. You look…” He took a breath. “You look…you look very well.”

“Thank you,” Logan said softly. The most handsome boy. The fact that Leo still saw him that way after what he had just done…Logan didn’t know what to make of that. Looking at Leo in the warm light, he wanted badly to reach up and brush back that gray wave of hair, mixing it into the blond that feathered back in Leo’s soft curls.

“Shall we? You look conflicted still.”

“No,” Logan said. “I mean, yes, we should, but…”

Leo tilted his head. “But?”

“I don’t know why but…I know you won’t hurt me. Or him.”

Leo just looked down at him, and shook his head. “No. I won’t.”

Logan woke up the next morning feeling like he hadn’t slept at all. He had kept waking in the night, thinking he had heard the creak of his door, felt a dip in his bed, felt Finn coming to him, finally, with an explanation. Logan couldn’t think what he had done. What could be so rash? What could go so wrong? He pushed himself up in his bed, and it felt too big to be alone in. His chambers, too—looming and empty and cold, even in the summer morning. They had felt that way ever since Finn had stopped sneaking upstairs at night. He looked outside at the bright sky. Finn would be downstairs now. Logan would have breakfast, and then corner him. He’d make up some excuse for Mrs. Hawk to steal him away from his duties. Logan groaned and pushed himself out of bed. He didn’t know what excuse. It wasn’t like he was prone to accompanying the staff to the markets.

When he finally made his way down to the breakfast table, it was to chatter that sounded too loud. Even the clink of cutlery was too much—and Logan wasn’t even hungover, he was just a wreck. Nervous and worried for Finn—guilty about Leo.

“Little brother,” Noelle greeted him.

Logan just sat down, distastefully eyeing the way she was clacking her spoon against her boiled egg.

“Late riser,” Sydney said. “Are you going to tell us where you disappeared to last night now?”

Noelle leaned in. “You and Knut.”

His mother sighed. “The entire ballroom was talking about it, Logan, and not in the way we wanted exactly—”

“What do you do with your boys in gardens, Lolo?” Sydney asked, and Logan’s mother shushed her.

“It doesn’t matter,” his mother said in matter-of-fact voice. “A Knut is a Knut, and nothing can change that. Not even my son who romps around like—oh well, a Knut is a Knut.” She laughed happily. “And he volunteered. Good gracious, Logan, you have done well.”

“That sounds like something out of a nursery rhyme,” Noelle said, then put on a very posh accent. “A newt is a newt, an egg is an egg. Never, oh, never ask ladies their age!”

“Everyone be quiet, please,” Logan sighed and took a small bite of toast.

“But—” his mother began, though Logan was saved by the butler coming in with the morning mail.

“Oh, oh, new Whistledown!” Noelle called, and gestured for it. “Bring it here, Morris, if you please. Thanks.”

Logan didn’t even want to think about Whistledown right now. “Save it for later, would you, Noelle. God knows what’s in there.”

Noelle just scoffed and tucked it by her plate so she could read while she ate. “Exactly. We better be prepared.”

“Did you just go walking?” Sydney asked. “Lily says she saw you bolt outside and leave poor Knut alone, only for him to follow you later.”

“That is one of his old tricks,” his mother said.

“You are not supposed to know that, mum,” Sydney laughed, and his mother just smiled and sipped her tea.

“Um,” Noelle said.

“Stop,” Logan sighed. “Honest. I don’t want to hear it. We just walked. Nothing happened.”

“Um,” Noelle said more loudly, holding up the latest Whistledown and fixing Logan with a hard stare. “Excuse me.”

“What did she say?” Sydney asked. “Is it about Logan and Lord Knut?”

“It’s about Logan, all right, but—” Noelle fixed Logan with a pointed stare. “When were you going to tell us—when—Jesus Christ, I—when were—” She slapped the pamphlet down. “You’re courting Whistledown?"

Logan frowned, looking up from his eggs and toast. “Huh?”

Noelle all but shoved the pamphlet in front of him, and Logan narrowed his eyes at her when it nearly upset his tea, but picked the paper up.

“Noelle, what are you talking about?” their mother asked.

Logan didn’t have to look far to find his own name. He passed by remarks about a worker’s strike to read later, some others about the Queen’s expenses, until finally, he found whatever had made Noelle shriek so in the pamphlet’s famous slanted type.

Logan Tremblay and Leo Knut danced three times at the Queen’s ball last night. The diamond of the season—though Tremblay was mysteriously absent to see himself be named—and the handsome Lord Knut made a fine pair. Anyone who is anyone knows how rare a true Tremblay smile is, and Lord Knut had him positively laughing.

Many speculate this is a sure match, that we are to expect a proposal in no time—and what a season treat would that be.

But I’m afraid that this Author has other intentions.

Logan frowned. He set his toast down.

This Author is not who you expect, dear Reader, though they are sure that you all prefer the mystery of it all—this Author favors it, too. It has been exceedingly compelling, a fine way to fill the late hours of the night, our correspondence. But our time as two estranged confidants has come to an end. This Author’s true identity means more to them than ever.

While this Author may write about ballrooms, they do not dance within them.

While this Author may critique the latest fashions, they do not wear them.

And yet this Author made you believe they belonged in the same rooms you occupy, dear Reader. Did you not believe me? You did.

And so—one final question to pose to you before I uncloak myself, and depart: If you, dear Reader, could not guess that I was not one of you, how different can I be? I, in my real life below the ballrooms and below you all.

While this Author writes about the loves and losses of your world, dear Reader, can they not feel them just as keenly?

This Author thinks they can. In fact, he knows it.

This Author knows love, a universal subject. He knows love for Lord Logan Tremblay. He is in love with him, and he wishes to request the first dance at tonight’s Starlight Ball, should the Lord permit it—please. This Author can explain everything.

Logan put his fingers to his mouth. “Oh…”

“Whistledown is a servant…” Logan’s mother breathed, staring wide-eyed at her own copy. “Logan, I don’t…I don’t understand. Do you know this person?”

“Logan.” Noelle’s voice this time—knowing. Understanding. “Logan, do you mean to tell me that…All this time, is this the writing of—”

But Logan shook his head, gesturing for her to be silent, because suddenly it was clear in his mind. There had always, always been something he liked about the Whistledown pamphlets. Something almost familiar about the way the author spoke, the way she wrote. She tore people down, yes, but only those who deserved it. She poked fun at Logan himself, yes, but never in a way that was ruinous.

Even here, with Leo, Logan had been merely portrayed as desirable. He and Leo both had.

All the times he had read aloud from the pamphlet to Finn. All those times, had he merely been reading Finn’s own words back to him?

You don’t love it? Logan could remember asking Finn recently when he’d barely had a reaction at all to a Whistledown piece. The writing had fiercely and openly supported a Lady in Kent who was to marry her driver. Look at this Finn, Whistledown would be for us, too. And he hadn’t been able to understand it when Finn had merely given him a soft smile, a casual nod, a stroke of a hand down Logan’s cheek. Yes, I think so, Lo.

Logan pushed back from the table without a word. He didn’t care that he was leaving behind stunned faces, didn’t care that he nearly knocked one of the maids down as he blew through the dining room doors. He had to get to him. He had to get to Finn. He thundered down the servant’s staircase, whipped around the corner and dashed down the hallway until he reached the kitchens. They all had probably heard him coming, because they were much stiller than usual when he arrived, flushed and out of breath. Mrs. Hawk was poised by the ovens, wringing her hands in her apron, her brown hair curling around her kind, aging face.

“Mrs. Hawk,” Logan said, out of breath. “Mrs. Hawk…”

Logan scanned the kitchens as best he could. Finn wasn’t in sight. Not at the work tables, not at the stoves, or the ovens. Outside? Fetching milk perhaps?

“Yes, my Lord? Breakfast is upstairs, you know.”

“Oh,” one of the maids chimed in. She was clutching Whistledown to her chest. “Who is it, my Lord? Who are you in love with?”

“Maisie,” Mrs. Hawk hissed, and Maisie ducked.

“It’s only romantic, that’s all…” Maisie mumbled.

Logan’s eyes caught on her, on the phrase. Romantic. He shouldn’t have come down here. What had he been thinking? He’d give Finn right up asking about him after that declaration, and he’d lose his job, or he’d—God, what was he doing?

Maisie put that together just about as fast as him. She gasped.

“Oh gosh, is he—is he here? Does he work here, my Lord?”

Mrs. Hawk waved a hand at her. “Maisie.”

“No,” Logan said quickly, not knowing what else to say. “No, I—I only wanted…” He tried desperately to think of something he could have wanted from downstairs. “Aspirin—my—a headache from last night, I…”

“Oh,” Mrs. Hawk said. “My Lord, do let us send things like that up to you, would you now.”

“Whistledown,” Maisie said, sounding delighted. “Did you know, sir? Did you know?”

Logan tried to plead with her with his eyes to please stop.

“My Lord, pardon me,” came a voice from behind Logan, and he turned, feeling dizzy.

“Yes?” Logan asked the butler, Morris. “Yes, Morris?”

“Sir,” said Morris again. “Lord Knut has called on you this morning.”

“Oh,” came a muffled gasp from Maisie—even Mrs. Hawk seemed to allow herself to succumb some to the drama of it all.

Logan blinked, pressed a hand over his heart to feel its pounding. “Really.”

“I have seated him in the South parlor,” Morris said in his low, smooth voice. “Shall I bring tea?”

Leo. Leo was here. Leo had no doubt read Whistledown. And Leo had seen him and Finn. Last night. If anyone but him, and Noelle, knew who Finn really was then it would be Leo.

“Yes,” Logan said. He pushed a shaky hand through his hair. “But wait. Not in the South parlor.”

[TBC post-Winterfic…this story has taken over my brain, gotten so much longer than I had thought originally, and I’m loving it…:)]

#12 days of winterfic 2022 lumosinlove #Bridgeton au #o'knutzy

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