#But the storm lord heard me today. And brought his rain upon me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

suchalonelysunflower · 3 years

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The Siren’s Song (c.h)

Where The Storm Gathers - Chapter 3

Pairing: Stable Lad! Calum Hood x Princess! Reader

Summary: A glance of hope stands in the distance as Y/N and Calum set sails to see some old friends, but the waters are not as calm as they seem.

Warnings: Mentions of murder; Torture; Violence; Blood; Abuse; Sickness; Manipulation; Language; Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 7.5 K

Author’s Note: Had to divide the chapter into two, you’ll understand why next week ;) This is the last boring chapter, I promise. Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and Likes help a lot (please help out of this ban!) 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My Materialist // tag list on bio!

Book 2 Materialist || Prologue || Chapter one || Chapter two

Ashton could hear the distant sound of thunder rumbling all over the kingdom. He thought that if he could hear that, then maybe the storm was closer than anyone could anticipate. He hasn’t seen the rain in months, let alone the sun.

He got himself into this mess, he thought. He should’ve fought harder and stopped being so naive in regards to his father.

Ever since Y/N left, he made sure to let everyone know exactly the type of person the King of RoseWood was. Letters were sent and crows were removed from their positions in different courts. Ashton would look for allies to his cause; allies that could potentially help him to take the power from his father once and for all.

It was not Ashton’s plan to take the crown at such a young age, he never asked for this even though it was bestowed upon him since birth. But he would do whatever it takes to keep his family, loved ones, and people safe; and it was more than clear that his father could not provide that same kind of security and comfort.

After the failed attempt to get his daughter married to the King of the Vail and take control of their army, King Richard went into what villagers called “a madman serenade” If the rumors said that he had lost his mind and his thirst for blood was as strong as ever, he would make sure to comply.

Richard brought the kingdom ruin, taking men out of their homes and putting them into training fields. He recruited the most fearless, sadistic men of the crow’s army and put them in charge of his new order. He lost his mind to the delusion that he will run all the kingdoms and turn them into an empire. And Ashton was almost about to uncover his plan when he was suddenly taken in the middle of the night and thrown in the dungeons like a dog.

Accused of treason and deprived of any contact with the outside and its people, Ashton swore he would not let his father win. He endured the tortures with a straight face, not saying a word to anyone that tried to pull something out of him. He spent countless nights without sleep, weeks without food, and days without water, all so that the cause and his sister could be safe.

He knew they would come for her eventually, he just hoped they had more time. Maybe he could’ve escaped by now and warned her, to make sure she and Calum are safe from the deathly grip of their father...

But instead, he was sitting in his cell once again, eyes fixed on the same spot on the wall as his lips were dry and sealed, even when the pain of the iron chains that rounded his ankles made him want to chop his limbs off. Feeling like a failure as he awaited his death. He has failed as a brother and as future King, and right now there was nothing he could do about it except listening to the thunder and the moaning of the other prisoners.

It was the dangling of the keys that caught his attention as it mixed with the sound of the heavy rain. He wondered if he was dreaming every time someone would come into the cell, hoping to wake up from the nightmare he was in, but they all made sure he lived through it. Never too much to kill him, but cruel enough to make him endure it.

“Diner,” The guard said in a monotonous tone and Ashton thought it was weird.

This guard never talked to him in a tone that held anything but pity and desperation, trying hard to win at least some kind of good reactions out of him even when the young Prince would lash out at him. Did he give up too?

Rian Dawson put the tray of food on the floor in front of the Prince. He was fidgeting with his hands, looking nervously at the door, almost as if he was afraid someone might come in at any minute, and Ashton noticed it but didn’t say a word.

“Eat!” Dawson demanded a bit too loud, but he wasn’t looking at Ashton, instead, his gaze moved nervously through the door and the tray.

Still, firm and stubborn as always, Ashton did not move or say anything, not wanting to give the guards the satisfaction of seeing him weak. But at the same time, he knew that the moment he put that piece of bread in his mouth, he might not be able to hold it after so many days without eating properly.

“Your Grace…” The guard then whispered, looking at Ash with a pleading gaze “Please…”

Ashton furrowed his brows. It was not normal for a guard or a crow to be this nervous around him anymore, and he did not trust it. After all, this was the same guard that would come every now and then to change his chains; heal the wounds just enough so that they don’t get an infection; and take him to his next torture. Why did he seem so desperate now?

“Please, I beg of you, Your Highness. Just-” He continued to whisper, but got cut short when a new set of dangling keys could be heard along the hallway “Shit”

“Dawson! What the hell are you doing?!” The Commander asked, standing right outside the Prince’s cell, and, once again, Ashton did not move a muscle to acknowledge him.

“They ordered me to get the traitor dinner, My Lord!” Rian said loudly, standing tall and ignoring Ashton altogether “But it seems like he would rather starve than be useful for once!”

His tone did not convince Ashton in the slightest since he could see through the lie. But it must’ve not been the same for the Commander who started to laugh.

“Let him starve, then!” He said “Before he dies we would have to feed him forcefully until the King says enough. Then he could rot all he wants. Come, Dawson! You are needed on the training field”

And with that, the Commander walked away, but Rian only allowed himself to breathe once the sound of the keys could not be heard over the thunder.

“Your Highness,” He said calmly as before, still keeping his eyes on the door as he started to walk out “Please, please eat. For RoseWood”

Ashton heard the cell door close again and the heavy footsteps disappear in the hallway. Then, his hazel eyes shifted to the tray that contained a piece of old bread and a cup of water. His narrowing gaze suddenly became wide open as his head snapped towards the direction of the door, waiting for any sounds besides the thunder that could indicate someone’s coming.

His heart was beating loudly inside his chest as he leaned forward, placing one hand on the dusty, musky floor, trying to see if he could support himself with his arms without making too much noise with the shackles that imprisoned him.

Slowly, Ashton started to crawl, biting on his tongue to not let out any noise as the pain of his wounded wrist shook through his whole body with every little step he made with his hands until finally, he reached the tray.

With shaky hands, the Prince of Roses opened the bread in half; eyes immediately watering as he had to prevent himself from letting out a cheerful and hopeful sob when he saw the piece of parchment hidden in the crumbs.

“Help is on the way. Let the true ruler of RoseWood be seen again - The Knights of Roses”

Y/N fell to her knees, hiding her face on a bucket as Calum held her hair place soothing movements onto her back with the palm of his hand. It was the third time today, the movement of the waves and the worry set on the pit of her stomach made everything fuzzy and revolving, making her throw up on an empty stomach.

“Love?” Calum asked, wincing as she started to cough through the tears “Y/N, it’s okay”

“It’s not okay, it’s disgusting” She cried, wiping her face with a cloth.

They were kneeling on the floor of their cabin on the Kaleidoscope, the same one they got when they were just arriving at the Crimson Islands. But what once was an exciting, frightening, and adventurous trip, has now turned mournful and dreadful as they made their way to The Vail’s coast.

Two days ago King Alex received a letter addressed to the Princess of Roses, sent by none other than King Luke Hemmings from The Vail, claiming that her brother had been captured and imprisoned by their father, who was now starting to prepare for a war to reclaim all Kingdoms to himself.

Y/N and Calum stood there in shock and tears as they read the letter over and over again, desperately wanting to make all of this just another bad dream. But the nightmare was not over, in fact, it seemed like it was just barely getting started.

King Alex gathered a small crew and together with the couple from RoseWood, wasted no time in preparing a trip to meet with the King of the Vail and his advisor, Sir Michael.

“We cannot let that madman win,” The King said “Say the word, Princess Y/N, and we’ll fight by your side. Anything you two may need, I will gladly provide. I am at your service, Your Highness”

And with that, the Princess and the Stable Lad ended up on the Kaleidoscope again with Captain Merrick; his crew; a few other soldiers; and a few volunteers. Ready to sail and get to The Vail where other rulers are gathering to decipher a plan of attack if Richard won’t back down.

But all this stress; worry; fear and sorrow was too much of a shock for Y/N and Calum even though they tried to hide it from each other. This was not a simple game of sneaking around in the woods, this was a life or death situation with Ashton’s life hanging on a thread if they don’t hurry, that is, if he’s still alive.

“Do you want me to get you anything?” Calum asked once her breathing had calmed down, softly rubbing her back.

“A glass of scotch could be nice” She grumbled, getting up with Calum’s help as she sat back on the bed.

“Are you sure you’re allowed to drink?” Her husband asked carefully, sitting beside her as he held her hand.

Y/N furrowed her brows at him, trying to decipher the meaning behind the gleam in his eyes until it finally hit her.

“I’m not with child, Calum”

“How do you know?” He shrugged, placing a hand on Y/N’s stomach “You were not sick on our first trip to the Isles. And the Maester said-”

“The Maester doesn’t have a uterus,” She shook her head with a glimpse of a smile drawing in her lips “And even so, I know my body. It is not time yet, love. And, dare I say, if my father manages to win… it might never be”

Calum pressed his lips in a thin line, nodding at her words as he moved his hand from her stomach to cradle her hand once more.

“The time will come,” He smiled softly at her “Whenever you’re ready, and probably in years to come, it will be perfect. But, as of right now, my rose, I don’t think a glass of scotch is going to do you any favors”

She rolled her eyes lovingly at him, smiling as she said “How do you know? You’re not a healer”

“Nope, but I’m a guy whose friends would drink themselves to death and ended up exactly where you are right now” He chuckled, getting up from the bed and placing a soft kiss on her forehead “And I’m a husband who wants to take care of his wife, not make her sicker”

“Sometimes I hate that you’re a good husband” She pouted

“I can live with that,” He smiled, caressing her face with the back of his hand. “I’ll get you a beverage, though. I know Zach keeps some for the crew that get seasick”

“I love you,” She said through a sigh “Wish I could kiss you”

“Well…”

“Don’t even think about it, Hood. Get me the beverage and some mint leaves with lemon first”

Calum chuckled, “As you wish”

The stable lad exited the room with a faint smile that quickly disappeared when he closed the door. He hated seeing Y/N sick and he knew that the waves were just an added factor to all the turmoil she must be going through. He knows his wife; he knows she’s hiding all the pain she’s not allowing herself to feel. And he also knows that the stubbornness of his princess is strong and she would never admit it.

It’s all his fault, he thought as he walked towards the main cabin. He couldn't help but feel that he took part in sealing Ashton’s fate even though there was nothing they could’ve done at the moment. They needed to keep Y/N safe, no matter the cost. But why should Ashton pay for the crimes Calum committed by loving her? It should’ve been him the one sitting in the cell, not the only family Y/N has left; not the only family that loved her.

She’s already lost so much; her homeland, her mother, and now Ashton… She didn’t deserve any of it and Calum was more than determined to help her bring him back, no matter what it takes. They will not let Richard win.

He walked up to the deck, already making plans inside his head to let the guilt die down for a second as he concentrated on getting Y/N’s health back to normal when his pace was cut short by someone who purposely stood in front of him.

“Good morning, my Lord. Won’t you say we’re having such a splendid morning, today?”

There was something on Jack’s smile that made Calum want to punch it, something mocking yet sinister that hid something that he just couldn’t figure out.

At first, they couldn’t believe he volunteered for the trip, having just got to the Isles and finding a role in the court. He seemed too eager to go back to the Vail and help them defeat the King of RoseWood, saying it would be an honor to serve the Princess on whatever she would need. And even Y/N had to admit that was a bit off, but they needed all the help they could get.

Still, Calum did not trust him. And after he told Y/N about what happened back on the training grounds of the palace, she also started to distrust the man going by Jefferson. So his presence here brought more questions than reassurances.

“How’s the Princess doing?” Jack, also known as Sir Jefferson, asked; leaning over one of the masts with a glint in his eyes as he looked up and down Calum’s body.

Calum didn’t even try to hide his feelings towards him anymore as his hard, brown eyes stared at him with annoyance.

“My wife’s health is none of your business, Sir. Now, if you’ll excuse me”

But at the same time he took a step forward, so did Jack.

“Ouch,” He said ironically, “Thought you would be more thankful, my Lord. After all, isn’t your brother-in-law we are talking about here?”

Calum bluntly ignored him as he walked past the crow, bumping his shoulders as he did. Jack smirk, for his plan of railing up the stable lad, was working and he was also having fun with it, making it a personal challenge so for when the time comes to let all the truth come to shove, at least the fighting will be interesting. So he followed him.

“Who would’ve thought it would come to this?” He said, walking alongside Calum “A mad King, a Prince held hostage… Only, that’s all we know. Maybe things at RoseWood are more interesting”

Calum ignored him, pushing through the crowded deck to get to the Captain’s cabin. Jack’s voice became white noise as he tried to get the medicine he needed and then go back to his wife waiting for him at the other side of the ship. But then…

“Think of how this would’ve never happened if you never left. Or maybe things are finally working out for you”

Jack smirked at the way the stable lad stopped in the middle of his tracks, but quickly hid it the moment he turned around as the crow greeted him with a faux-innocent look of concern.

“Is everything alri-”

“What did you just say?”

Calum was fuming. The hair on the back of his neck rose in anger as a chill ran down his back when he heard those words. His fists were clenched to the sides, knuckles turning white from the grip as he dug his nails into his palms, reminding him to not lose his temper as they stood right at the entrance of the cabin’s hallway.

A shadow hid most of Jack’s face and Calum could swear he saw him smile for even just a second before his voice became soft as he said:

“I’m just saying that if you had stayed in RoseWood then maybe the Prince would not be in the dungeons, am I wrong for assuming that?” He said, furrowing his brows almost as if he didn’t understand why Calum could be mad about it “Royals can be tough, but you knew that before getting involved with the Princess, I assume. And then running away with her… Seemed like a poorly executed plan that started in chaos and, like most things, would probably end in chaos. Unless that’s the plan all along”

“What the fuck do you mean by that?”

Jack gasped, placing a hand over his heart as he blinked at Calum “That language, my Lord, very aggressive”

Calum grabbed the crow by the lapels of his clothing, pushing him against the wall.

“Cmon,” Calum said with his face only inches away from Jack’s “Say what you must, if you dare”

The crow let out a small, sarcastic laugh “Oh, my lord. Was I wrong to assume how this could benefit you? Don’t you think is a little suspicious? Father gets mad, you marry the daughter and then suddenly the prince disappears… Who gets the throne once it’s all said and done? Now that’s a story worth telling, don’t you think?”

Calum’s eyes filled with rage as he banged Jack’s head against the wooden walls, knowing that people might be watching. But he could not let go of that offense as if it was nothing. How could he think that he could do that to Ash? To Y/N?!

“You don’t know shit of what happened,” He said through gritted teeth “You don’t know what we went through, what she went through. You don’t know our story so don’t pretend like you do and start assuming on other people’s lives”

“Calm down, my friend,” Jack said, trying to defuse the tension. “Maybe I’m mistaken but I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking already”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it, too? What does Y/N say about it?”

“What are you talking about?!” Calum demanded in hushed tones, gripping tightly onto Jack’s lapels and making him hit his head on the wooden wall behind him again, but the crow didn’t even flinch as a glimmer set in his eyes, sending chills down Calum’s spine.

“Oh, may the gods bless your foolish heart, Calum” The crow sympathized. “I knew Y/N would be too kind to let you borrow some of her burdens, but for you to be so clueless… Must be a blessing to walk around like that”

“Like what?” Calum was getting impatient.

“Like you didn’t cause all of this”

“My Lords? Is everything alright?” Captain Merrick’s voice came from the end of the hallway as he walked up to them.

Calum let go of Jack in an instant, too shocked by his words to say anything else as he looked at him with wide eyes and an expression that hid too many fears inside of it.

Jack, on the other hand, just smiled at the Captain “Everything’s fine, Captain. We were just having a friendly conversation, isn’t that right, Cal?” He patted Calum on the shoulder and walked away without saying anything else.

“My Lord?”

“I-I’m fine, Captain,” Calum said, blinking a couple of times to clear his thoughts “My- uh, My wife is feeling a little bit seasick, I was wondering if you could help me get her something to ease her stomach”

Zach smiled “Of course, my Lord! Come, I have exactly what she needs in my cabin”

Calum nodded, “Oh, and Zach?”

“Yes?”

“If you can,” He said, looking toward where the crow just disappeared “Don’t let that man go near our cabin nor near Y/N if I’m not there to stop him”

An echo passed through her ears as she stood in the empty hallway. How she got there, she didn’t know; but it all seemed so familiar, almost like a dream. Only she didn’t know if it was a nightmare.

The clanking of the chains could be faintly heard from miles away as the hallway seemed to have no end, blending into the darkness.

Y/N took in her surroundings, looking from left to right and finding not a soul that could tell her what was going on. The humidity of the walls started to cling to her skin, making it seem like her gown was becoming heavier and heavier the more time she spent standing on the cobblestoned floor.

Then, a small, faint light came from one of the rooms hidden in the hallway. A candlelight gleam illuminated her path of darkness as she felt compelled to it, feeling the need to follow it. So she did.

The closer she got to the light the more real things started to become. Y/N was starting to feel as if this was not a dream anymore, a memory perhaps? She could feel the warmth of the light gracing her cheeks with every step she could, and, if she paid enough attention, even the sound of laughter would brush her ears.

The laughs were heavy, grave and she guessed it must come from a group of men. They were laughing at something, yet she couldn’t see what just yet nor she could hear anything besides the laugh and a faint sound of a whip, thinking that maybe they were just messing with the horse’s equipment as the drunk guards used to do back at RoseWood; Calum always hated that but they were always nice enough to pay back whatever they might’ve broken.

Could she be back at the stables? Was her mind playing with a forgotten memory?

Still, the crackling of the whip grew louder and louder as well as the laughs that couldn’t hide it anymore. But that's all it was. A whip and laughter, nothing else. So why did her heart beat faster as she approached the slightly ajar door?

From the small crack, she witnessed a group of men dressed in black, a red rose embroidered in their chests as they carried the RoseWood symbol with pride. They were drunkenly laughing at something -or rather someone - that Y/N couldn’t see just yet. She examined the men’s faces and couldn’t recognize them as his father’s guards, they weren’t the guards from the woods nor any that you’ve met before.

Yet, they seemed to be having the time of their lives as one of them grabbed the leathered whip from the other’s hand, laughing as he swung it over his head until it crashed with a surface while the others started to count.

Trying to get a better view - or at least an idea of what was happening - Y/N pushed the door open just a crack, hoping none of the men realized as the wooden door squeaked against the cobblestone, luckily they were still entertained with what was happening at the other corner.

The first thing the Princess noticed once she got a clearer view was the blood. So much blood scattered around the room in little splashes, pooling down in the middle. She felt her whole body tremble, feeling sick just looking at it, remembering the last time she saw so much red when Calum was captured.

Still, she couldn’t look away. It was almost as if her eyes were glued to the gruesome scene, following a trail until it landed on a target.

Her eyes widened and filled with tears; a scream threatened to escape her throat as she covered her mouth with both her hands to silence it. Her knees started to buckle and she felt as if she could throw up all over again, completely horrified at what was in front of her.

With a manacle on each wrist, each hanging from opposite wooden pillars and keeping his arms open wide, unable to sit or to let his body fall from the physical trauma, stood Ashton with his back completely open and bloody.

In front of him stood a small, dirty mirror where Y/N could see how he could barely keep his eyes open anymore; biting on his lip with each crack of the whip, making him lean forward and letting the manacles cut his wrist when he did so. Still, he didn’t say a word as the guards kept counting and Y/N didn’t want to know how many rounds they got before she got there.

Ashton’s hair fell in front of his face, stuck in sweat and blood to his forehead as his face changed with every hit of pain, only adding to his anger.

“C’mon, lads!” One of the guards laughed “Gotta be a lot proper with the royals now, don’t we? Start the count again, and this time do it more… gently”

The guard stood up and handed his friend another leathered whip, the only difference was that this one held spikes at the end, making sure to cut through the skin at just a simple touch.

Y/N watched in horror at how her brother’s back arched as he bit down his tongue, barely even opening his eyes to glance at the small mirror hanging in front of him, and she could swear that just for a moment, his eyes met hers before receiving another blow.

Unable to stand it any longer, Y/N barged into the room, making all of the men stop what they were doing as they stared down at her with eyes filled with fear as the man threw the whip on the floor.

Without wasting a breath, she ran to Ashton’s side and stood in front of him, trying to wipe some of the blood out of his face. But before she could say anything, she noticed how her brother’s eyes changed and were now filled with rage directed at her.

“You did this,” He said through gritted teeth, spitting blood at Y/N’s cheek.

Shocked and scared, Y/N looked around the room and found it empty.

“What?” She asked out loud, looking over at Ashton who also disappeared in thin air.

Her breathing became elaborated as she searched the room, trying to find any evidence that someone was there. Yet, when she turned around all she could find was the mirror and a different set of eyes looking straight at her.

For in that moment, her reflection wasn’t hers; it was her father, looking back with a proud smirk at the monster she thought she was.

The sudden shake of the ship made her jolt awake, taking in her surroundings with wide-open eyes as she tried to remember the dream she just had.

Her mother used to say that dreams are made of people’s greatest desires and fears; they could come from a memory or a premonition of the future and should never be taken lightly, for a dream was just as important as a thought. Dreams are the thoughts we don’t dare to say out loud.

A chill ran down her spine as her father‘s eyes were engraved in her memory; so cruel, so proud… Was she like him in a way when she ran away, leaving the ones she loved behind? Taking the easy way out, would he have done the same?

The simple thought of that made her blood run cold. She was not cruel; she was not a monster. She did what she needed to do to survive and make sure that Calum was safe. She made the only choice she could make but, would everyone understand that? Or would they just see her as her father’s daughter?

The sheets shifted slightly as Y/N’s eyes finally landed on Calum, the only comfort she had. She ran a hand delicately through his shaved curls, thanking the gods that they allowed him to sleep peacefully at least for one night and that she didn’t wake him up with her nightmare. He’s been so restless lately, she just wished to share some of his grief with him. She already put him through a lot, he deserved some peace of mind and she wants nothing more than to be able to provide that for him; let them be just themselves like they were in the woods, away from all fears and terrors and villains… just two kids playing around with fairytales and horse rides, so in love and with nothing to fear.

After a while, it became obvious that Y/N couldn’t go back to sleep so easily. With a sigh, she got off the bed, kissed Calum’s temple as he started to lightly snore, and wrapped herself with her robe as she exited the cabin; looking for a distraction in the middle of the star-filled sea.

Y/N closed her eyes when the cold night breeze graced her face, making her hair fly as she walked barefoot through the deck. All members of the crew and the volunteers were sound asleep.

She got closer to the board, looking straight ahead at the vast sea as her fingers grip the wood of the rails. They were still a few days away from getting to The Vail and once they get there, they have to start their strategies, plan the trips, know how many people to take, embark on the journey… who know how long it’ll be till they reach RoseWood again, but they were determined to do so. She knows Luke and Michael won’t let her down and they’ll do everything they can to get Ashton back and her father out of the throne; she knows she could trust them.

“Can’t sleep, Your Highness?”

Y/N jumped at the sound of a voice coming from the shadows of the quarterdeck, placing a hand over her heart as she watched Sir Jefferson emerge from the dark corner, smiling kindly at her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, Princess” He apologized, raising his hands in defense.

“Maybe you should’ve thought about it before talking from the shadows” Y/N sighed, looking back at the sea “We never know if the person hiding there is a friend or a foe, Sir Jefferson”

“And where would you place me, Your Highness?” He asked, taking a step closer to her “Friend or foe?”

“Am I talking to the same man that hurt my husband in training? Then, I’m not sure”

“It was a friendly match,” Jack said, leaning over the board and placing his elbows on the wooden planks as he looked at the sea as well.

“A match is still a match. You were lucky it wasn’t a duel” Y/N rolled her eyes “Either way, I don’t particularly understand the need men have for violence. For practice and self-defense, I get it. But to draw blood from innocent people… Seems barbaric”

“It’s in our system,” He shrugged. “Men search for violence even when they claim peace. We all know our nature and how far we can go, trying to push it beyond those limits until we reach the glory at the end. Even the most compassionate of men could tell you about the temptations of power and blood, maybe by doing things they know it’s wrong just to have a little taste of what it feels like”

Y/N’s mind couldn’t help to wander over to Ashton again, on how he played a part in scattering crows around the kingdoms in order to favor their father. He said he didn’t know why, but he still went ahead and did it; and even though she believed him, she also wonders if he ever at least had a slight idea of what he was doing.

“And once a man gets a taste….” Jack continued, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched Y/N’s clouded eyes “It becomes part of him”

“That’s awful”

“But it’s true. We cannot escape who we are, no matter how much we try to run away from it. If it’s in our blood, then it’s fate’s design to follow it”

The crow noticed how, suddenly, Y/N’s eyes started to water as she hugged herself even tighter. And for a moment, just a slight moment as the moonlight graced her face, he felt pity for her.

“The sea is quiet tonight,” He said, changing the topic to spare the little Princess, at least for tonight.

“I don’t suppose it makes much noise anyway” She answered, quickly brushing away a stray tear that escaped her eye “It’s just water”

“Careful with your words, Princess” Jack smirked “Or they might hear”

“Who?”

“The mermaids”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows “That’s a fairytale, Sir Jefferson”

“Only to those who refused to believe in them,” He said “My mother used to tell me these stories, about pirates and adventures, but her favorites were always about the women who hide in the deep ends of the ocean. The mermaids are the protectors of the seas. Some legends say that mermaids are women who’ve been thrown out of their ships as a sacrifice to the gods; others, that the creatures were created by the gods themselves as a punishment for those who wander without the purest of hearts. They seek vengeance and justice, luring people of all around the world with their voices and deceiving them as they make them fall in love with fake promises and lust, sinking them into the sea with them. And, once they’ve realized they can’t breathe anymore, that’s when they show their true form. It’s a lesson, I suppose”

“Of what?”

“Never trust the beauty unless you can see the soul behind the eyes,” Jack said seriously, looking at Y/N “There are horrible people out there, Princess, hiding in their pretty clothes and all their riches, thinking they know it all just because they have it all. But no one is sinless, they know what they did”

The wind blew strangely, whistling through the sails as Y/N took in his words. No one is pure of sins, but could they ever repent them? She wrapped herself tighter in her robe, watching the crow’s back attentively as his eyes wandered over to the water, humming to himself an old siren’s song.

“My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold”

His voice was deep and rough as he sunk into a memory, thinking about his mother and all that was taken from him for people like the King; they always have it all yet they don’t care about their people, going on about their lives celebrating meaningless accomplishments as their people die on the streets. If he could get some of that power; if he could make them pay… And he will, by the gods he will.

Jack became no one of many names throughout his life, fighting to be the best in everything he does so when the moment comes, everyone will scream out his name in glory and gore.

“It’s getting late, Princess,” He said after a while, turning his head toward her “You should go back to bed”

Y/N’s lips parted as she stared at him; his eyes held something deeper than just a memory, they were cold and somewhat cruel as he looked at her, but only for a second as his signature smile was back on his face in the blink of an eye, making her wonder if she’d just imagined the familiarity of that glare.

“We still have a long way to The Vail, and around this time of year their days tend to be longer, so there won’t be much resting once we get there” He smiled.

Y/N nodded “You seem to know a lot about The Vail, Sir Jefferson. Have you ever been there before?”

Jack nodded with a sigh as he pointed to the scar on his left eye “Fearless warriors, they say. I have to admit they were right”

“They are a peaceful Kingdom and have been for decades” The Princess questioned him “Their King is one of the kindest souls I know, and to my knowledge, they only use violence for training and nothing more since the wars are over. I still don’t understand how you managed to get that scar on a Kingdom with people like that”

“Well, appearances can be deceiving, Your Highness. You just never know who to trust” Jack said gravely, gracing his eyes to the floor before looking up at her again “But that might be a story for another day, you should get some sleep”

“I don’t think I can, really,” Said the Princess “But that shouldn’t keep you up, my Lord. I’ll be fine”

Truth was, Y/N was still pretty shaken from her nightmare and the words from Sir Jefferson, feeling a sense of warning running through her mind. For some reason, she didn’t feel safe and was relieved when Jack seemed to understand and nod.

“Perhaps I have something that could help you, Princess,” He said, reaching into one of the pockets of his jacket and pulling out a folded handkerchief “I always carry some with me, just in case”

Jack opened the small piece of fabric revealing a couple of dry leaves on it.

“It helps you sleep,” He said with a smile “You just have to put them in water, cold or hot, and drink it after ten minutes. Works like a charm, or at least that’s what my mother used to say and I never found any fails to that logic”

Y/N smiled kindly, taking a couple of leaves in her hands as she looked at them, furrowing her brows just slightly.

“Are you certain this would help?”

“Extremely”

She nodded, “Thank you, Bernard”

He smiled at her one last time before she turned around and hurried to her cabin once again, speeding up the pace once she was out of sight from the decks, opening up the heavy wooden door and locking it instantly as her breathing became heavy and beams of sweat started to cover her face.

With heavy hands, she went to the small desk in the room, sitting in the chair and lighting up the candle; wasting no time in grabbing a leaf and burning it.

From the moment she saw them she knew what they were, she remembers seeing them in one of the Maester’s lessons.

“This is called La Torture De Méduse, an ancient poisonous leaf that causes a complete body paralysis, starting from the legs, then the torso and the arms, and lastly, the brain and the rest of the organs. All without the victim knowing since it makes the poor soul who ingested it fall into a deep slumber as their bodies die slowly. One can literally become stone, hence the name of this vile creation of the gods. Luckily, it is easy to identify if you notice the little green dots on the petiole and midrib. Do not ever go near them and if you do…”

Destroy them.

And that’s exactly what Y/N was doing as she watched the second leaf burn into ashes. Her mind was running a thousand kilometers per hour, trying to find an excuse for Sir Jefferson who so kindly and so naively, gave the leaves to her. He said that it helped him sleep, but these could not be the same leaves he talked about. If he ever drank the beverage created with them, then he should be dead already.

Unless he knew exactly what he did by giving her the leaves, expecting to receive the news of her untimely death the next morning when Calum finds her cold next to him. But why would he do that to her? They barely know one another and she has done nothing to wrong him. Nothing made any sense...

“Rose?” Calum’s voice alerted Y/N as she pulled the leaf away from the fire, letting it fall with the remaining others onto the desk “What are you doing, my love?”

She hesitated to answer. She couldn’t lie to him, but at the same time, she didn’t want to accuse an innocent until she got further proof of his wrongdoings, afraid she’ll become like her father.

If she tells Calum about the leaves and what they do, he will kill Jack with no hesitation and he’ll be sent to trial again, only this time he might serve time for real or worse: he’d be sentenced for murder. The law does not care if it was in self-defense, as far as the court will know, Jack never intended to hurt the Princess and it might’ve been just an honest mistake. And Y/N was not ready to lose Calum again.

“I couldn’t sleep,” She tells him a half-truth, leaving what happened with Jack aside “Thought I could use some air and then I came back here”

Calum rolled to his side, watching her with sad, understanding eyes “I know how difficult this must be for you, my rose. And I wish I could take some of that pain away from your eyes and hide it somewhere where you’ll never see or feel it again in your life. But all I can offer you is the promise that I’ll be here through it all with you, my love, we’ll be home soon”

“You’re my home, Cal,” She said “You’ve always been my home”

“Then come back to bed and let me hold you,” He said softly “Let us fight these nights together and share our mornings hand in hand. You’re not alone in this, my rose”

“And neither are you”

He beckoned her with his head and she smiled softly at him, turning around to blow out the candle and hide the remaining leaves on the pocket of her stash without him noticing it, promising herself to get to the bottom of it soon.

Calum wrapped his arms around her waist as he pulled her close, kissing her forehead as she laid on his chest with her head tucked under his chin.

“You’re the strongest person I know, Y/N” He whispered against her hair as his fingers drew figures on her back.

“Only because I have you with me,” She answered, kissing the side of his neck “I love you, Cal. Please, never leave me”

“Not in this life or the next, my love” He replied, drifting to sleep again with her chest pressed against his “Not in this life or the next”

Still, with Calum fast asleep next to her, Y/N could not phantom getting back to her dreams as she watched the moon disappear into the sea through their small porthole, hoping that the sirens would hear her pray and lure her to sleep in the midst of a dreamless sea.

tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @conversecake @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @hoplessromantic727 @fivesecondsofonedirection @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @fakebetch9694 @5sos-imagine @SunflowerAngel2123 @perfectnouis @in-superbloom @lukeisstillapenguin @sadcupofcoffee @superstarmarvel @personalmuyverypersonal @cnco.angels @vtte @as-hs-blog @himbohood @sofiaaraee @irwindoll @lolzkye @weasleytwinscumslut @ashtonsunflower @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ash @alltimepogue @wontlastimokwiththat t @ttinahood @lukespitinmymouth @perfectnouis @cncoangelss @darrensos @whywontyoulovemecami @itwouldburnupintheatmosphere @yeah-and69 @fckingpernico @multistann @averageantichrist @a-darneddarling @tpwkcth @f-mu @kindahumanbutalsoinsane @floweronyourskin @ihavenoideawhattodowithyou @bittersweetb4by @aria-grace-scott @thestarsandtheircoffee @bvbygxrl @luisa180206 @xxxlaura @iamdayanaz

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365days365movies · 3 years

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March 21, 2021: Orlando (1992)

Tilda Swinton...confuses me.

Like, in a good way. Because Tilda may be the most versatile actor working today. I mean, look at the goddamn filmography, and you’ll see what I’ve mean. I’ve seen Tilda Swinton in a lot, surprisingly, and I don’t think anything I’ve seen was bad. For example, I am an ARDENT defender in the portrayal of the Ancient One in the MCU.

I understand the controversy here, but I actually think this is excellent casting. Especially considering...being comic book-accurate would NOT have been a good idea with this role, if we’re trying to AVOID controversy. But Tilda Swinton FUCKING KILLED IT in this role, and I will always be happy for this choice.

Let’s see, there’s Jadis in the Narnia films, as shown at the top, there’s Snowpiercer, as Mason (an amazing character, and an acting job that Swinton disappears into), Moonrise Kingdom as Social Services, The Grand Budapest Hotel as Madame D., and Gabriel in Constantine. Which is a good segue to the next talking point...

Gabriel is pointedly androgynous, and honestly, Tilda Swinton kind of is as well. You may have noticed that I haven’t used any pronouns in referencing to Tilda Swinton, entirely out of respect. Gonna be a little hard to keep up with, so I’ll be using she/her from here on out, only because those are the pronouns that Swinton’s most recently promoted for herself. She’s also referred to herself as queer of some variety, as well as being famously gender non-conforming.

Which is fitting, given that a lot of that public image began with today’s movie, one of her first big roles. I’ll be revisiting Swinton in the independent movie scene in a couple of months, but this may be a good introduction. Instead of spoiling anything off the bat, I’m gonna jump right in. And so, I present: Orlando. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

We begin with a young man named, well, Orlando (Tilda Swinton), a young man with a feminine appearance and a good upbringing. His name means power land and property, but all he really wants is company. He writes and rests by a tree in the day, but falls asleep by mistake. When he wakes up, he runs back to where he’s meant to be, with a tribute to Queen Elizabeth I (Quentin Crisp) playing in the background. And that’s a REAL song, by the way, actually sung in the 1600s for Elizabeth! Very neat.

A title screen flashes, reading “1600: Death”, and we see where Orlando is meant to be. He speaks poetry for the Queen and her court, but is interrupted by the aged queen, who asks whether or not his poem is appropriate for her presence, as the poem is about youth, and Queen Elizabeth is not that. Orlando’s father (John Bott), who is serving as host to Elizabeth, intervenes on his behalf. However, it doesn’t seem to matter to the Queen, as she invites Orlando back to England to serve as her “favourite”. He accepts, and soon lives alongside the Queen. She quickly promises Orlando much land and property, for him and his heirs, but on one condition: that he does not fade, wither, or grow old.

The same wish cannot be applied to Elizabeth herself, nor to his father, as both grow old and die soon afterwards. Fast forward 10 years, and it’s a cold winter in England. Visiting Orlando’s vast estate is a woman from Russia, named Sasha (Charlotte Valandrey), and Orlando quickly falls for her. This is to the dismay of Euphrosne (Anna Healy), his fiancée? I’m not sure, to be honest, but they’re definitely involved, and she’s definitely upset.

However, this is also a scandal for everybody else as well, not just because Orlando’s already engaged, but also because Sasha is Russian, during a particularly poor economic period for the country. Euphrosne angrily throws his ring back at him, and Orlando speaks directly to the audience, telling us that a man must follow his heart. The two go to his private cottage, and they start to make out, when Orlando suddenly comes down with intense melancholy.

Because this is such great happiness that he feels, but this happiness too will one day end. Which is, like, the most emo-shit I’ve ever heard, but I’m kinda here for it. And yet, that happiness does indeed end, when Sasha is forced to return to Russia, despite Orlando’s pleading for her to stay. He asks her to meet him at London Bridge, so that they may elope together.

Later, Orlando happens upon a performance of Othello, noting to us that it’s a terrific play. This is as the death of Othello is being played out, so that’s probably foreshadowing, right? Anyway, Orlando leads two horses through the thick fog, waiting for Sasha to arrive and come away with him. But as a storm sets in, there is no sign of Sasha. And Orlando stands there in the rain. Said rain, though, soon becomes ice, underneath his feet, floating away down the river, along with his hopes of a happy future with Sasha. The treachery of women, according to Orlando.

Over the next week, Orlando languishes in his bed, asleep for the entire time. Increasingly more servants are brought up to try and rouse him, only for him to remain asleep, no matter what they do. But then, he wakes up, noting that he can only conjure three words to describe women, none of them worth explaining.

Forty years later, and the title screen cries “Poetry”! And Orlando looks exactly the same. Guess he really took that whole “don’t grow old” thing from Elizabeth to heart, huh? He speaks to a poet, Nick Greene (Heathcote Williams), and gushes about his poetry, which is a pursuit that he loves greatly. But Nick is...well, Nick is kind of a dick, to be honest. Orlando wants only to share his love and his poetry with him, but Nick’s only in it for the money. Not a true artist, and he mocks Orlando’s poetry, which he reads only after Orlando offers him money. And then, he writes a poem mocking Orlando further, which angers Orlando...but doesn’t stop the money flowing to Nick.

Orlando moves onto his next pursuit, in 1700, in the next section: Politics. Now over 100 years old, Orlando becomes an ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, and travels to Constantinople. There, he receives a somewhat rough and awkward greeting, which Orlando is not helping with. They share some Turkish coffee, Orlando has trouble drinking that Turkish coffee, they drink a LOT of Turkish coffee, and they toast to multiple things, including the “beauty of women, and the joys of love.” Orlando pauses at this, and reveals that he is still suffering quite a bit of heartbreak. His Turkish friend, the Khan (Lothaire Bluteau), bonds with him about this.

After 10 years, Orlando has fully retreated into life as a Turkish man. This is interrupted by a British emissary, sent to bring him news of a new appointment and power from the Queen. However, something goes wrong when the Khan arrives and takes Orlando hostage. The city is under attack, and the Khan asks Orlando if he will help against their enemies. Orlando agrees, and gives them arms, and heads to help himself at the walls. There, he witnesses a man dying, and it shakes him greatly. And just like before, he sleeps it off for seven days. And then...she wakes up.

YUP. WHAT.

Yeah, um, Orlando is now a woman. Like she says: “Same person, just a different sex.” Which is a very interesting premise, not gonna lie. Looks like Orlando now has to live life as a woman, which is going to be...difficult in 1700s Turkey. Or England. Or anywhere. Or any time.

Still, Orlando approaches this new life with aplomb, and without really any needed caution. Parading in some awesome dresses, she greets fellow nobility as the lady Orlando. However, the emissary from earlier, Archduke Harry (John Wood), begins to recognize her as similar to the lord Orlando.

In speaking with a group of poets, however, Orlando learns EXACTLY what men think of women in this society, and it’s not even a little bit good. She leaves, enraged and embarrassed. Harry also speaks with her, assuming that she was a woman all along. However, Orlando’s in EVEN MORE shit, as she’s quickly served with papers that are an attempt to take away all of her property and titles, because Lord Orlando is legally dead, and Lady Orlando is a woman, which one of them says is basically the same thing. FUCKIN’ YIKES, BRUV.

Ah, but Harry tries to help by proposing to her ON THE FUCKIN’ SPOT. He believed that Orlando was perfect as both genders, and is happy to do it. However, Orlando understandably refuses, and after Harry tells her that she will die as a spinster, alone and dispossessed, she runs into a nearby hedge maze. And while in the hedge maze, time passes, and her outfit changes to match the period accordingly.

Forward 140 years now! The year is 1850, and a new chapter begins: Sex.

And as she runs from the maze, she runs into who else...but Shelmerdine (Billy Zane), a man who...Shelmerdine? SHELMERDINE? What fuckin’ witch cursed his entirely family line to have THAT name? That’s the kind of family that was named AFTER a bridge, not the other way around! WHAT KINDA NAME IS FUCKIN’ SHELMERDINE?

Well, I’ve looked it up now, and it is apparently a real name. So, if any Shelmerdines are reading this...I mean, I’m sorry, but also, FUCKIN’ SHELMERDINE? OK, back to Shelmerdine. He’s twisted his ankle falling off his horse, and Orlando is now taking care of him. She reveals, in the process, that she’s about to lose everything. The reasons for that aren’t quite said, but Shelmerdine offers a place at his side, back to the great free land of America.

After having a conversation about the roles of men and women in the world (which is interesting given the context of the film in general), the two fulfill the chapter’s imperative. And we never see the act, but we do get some interesting angles and hand-holding. But the next morning, this post-coital reverie is interrupted by the lawyers from the Queen. The lawsuits have been settled, and Orlando has been legally declared a woman, meaning that unless she has a son, all of her possessions will be lost.

Shelmerdine (I swear, every time I say that name, a fairy gets chlamydia) leaves as well, with the southwest wind. As he heads back to America to fight for freedom, Orlando stands in the rain, facing an uncertain future, and broken fully by the politics of the time period.

And then...the sound of planes overhead. Looks like a new time period once again, heading into the periods of World Wars, and Orlando is now...heavily pregnant. OH. FUCK. Welcome to the next chapter: Birth.

We jump past the period of World War II, and to the 1990s! Orlando is presenting a book to a publisher, and he believes that the book will sell. With her young daughter in tow, she finally goes back to her old mansion, now finally able to go back after losing it 100 years prior. The narration from the beginning repeats, recontextualized for Orlando’s new life. She is over 400 years old, and finally, FINALLY...she is happy.

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And that’s Orlando! I think I loved it. Real talk, this was a fascinating movie, and I’m into it. I’m very much into it. I’m sure there’s more to be gleaned from this film, but I’m glad I watched it regardless. More in the Review, though! See you there!

#orlando #orlando 1992 #sally potter #tilda swinton #billy zane #lothaire bluteau #john wood #virginia woolf #orlando film #fantasy march #user365 #365 movie challenge #365days365movies #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #mygifs #my gifs

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passable-talent · 3 years

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self indulgent niche hayden christensen character x male reader has returned!!!

this time, featuring Jacob from Outcast (2014). it was a bad movie. I loved it so much.

dedicated, as always, to @haydens-moles - i know this wasn’t the one u asked for but i hope its close enough. i did try to showcase what he’s been doing before getting into the x reader stuff. this popped into my head and i had to write it. im sorry about it and ily 🥺

i did not expect this to be THIS long. its not awful but like. long, for what i usually do

tw: war, homophobia (briefly in the beginning), scars, wounds, sword fighting, death of unnamed characters, arrow wound

All this death.

All this death surrounded you, you welcomed it into your home. Your mother, the honorable queen, had opened the palace grounds to the war-torn soldiers, and you, their noble prince, walked among them.

You spoke to the soldiers about the war, thanked them for their sacrifice. You walked among them, empathizing with their pain, fetching them water or food or a nurse when they asked.

Your heart broke for them, every one of them. They clearly believed in the crusade, believed in the mission of their king and their god... their hearts would break in turn if they discovered you believed in neither.

How could a bloody, violent, evil war be fought for a benevolent god? How could a fair king order his men to their deaths?

You adjusted the crown you wore and walked from the main-hall-turned-medical-bay, hoping to find your father. He had grown weary with you in the recent years, your unwillingness to find a princess and your disapproval of his politics, but maybe he’d listen to you about the safety of your people. Maybe, he’d realize that you took your crown seriously, even if you didn’t intend to wear it the way that he wanted you to. After all, you were his only suitable heir- he was well into his old age, and if he intended to replace you with your brother, he’d have to wait years until the toddler was old enough to rule. You were his only choice.

You neared the entrance into your father’s throne room, but heard his voice echoing without it, and so paused just beyond the doorframe to listen.

“I will have no soft-hearted, peace-mongering pansy on my throne! That will not be my legacy!”

You knew your father’s opinions of you. You never, until this moment, realized how deeply they ran.

This war, this country. Even if one day you could gain control and stop it all, they would still never respect you. Never. You saw it now- and you saw what you needed to do.

The thought of running away was not a new one. You had, for years, considered it, weighed the likeliness. You knew you’d survive, being trained in hunting, combat, all of it, by Gallain, a noble knight. You had been trained alongside Jacob, who was both your personal knight and your best friend.

And, something more.

You often went to him whenever you felt like running away, and he always convinced you to stay, assuring you of your nobility and royalty. But Jacob disappeared years ago, without even a goodbye, so on that day you had no such guidance.

With your sword, your bow and arrow, and as much gold as you could carry, you disappeared with your horse into the countryside.

“Something must be done,” said a nobleman, a lord, commanding the center of a tavern.

“I agree,” said another, portly belly pressing against the table in front of him, “But he’s bested my guards. What can be done?”

“He’s a thieving, murderous boy who takes more than he can carry. Surely he can be bested by just a few more guards.”

“No, Estevan- he cuts through men like no knight I’ve ever seen. He’s terrifying. My wife is worried for our children, should he return.”

Jacob wasn’t one to push into conversations to which he wasn’t invited, but this did seem to be his specialty. He was still a nomad, still an outcast, but now his tavern interests were less opium and more noble assistance to those who needed it.

“Excuse me,” he said, looking up from the booth he’d been seated in, “but who might be causing you lot so much trouble?” The collection of noblemen looked at him, various expressions of disbelief and incredulousness gracing their faces.

“You don’t know of the Dark Prince?”

Jacob let his eyes narrow briefly as he considered the nickname against all he’d known as a knight, as well as all he’d learned as an outcast.

“I don’t.”

The man who had been referred to as ‘Estevan’ let out an obnoxious laugh.

“Boy, come along, to my estate,” he said, giving his friends little cheeky glances. “I’ve strengthened my guard, as I’m expecting an attempt at a thievery tonight. If you best him, I’ll pay you handsomely.”

Clearly, these idiotic men had never heard of Jacob, the Outcast.

Well, Jacob the Outcast had never heard of you.

In the three years since you’d fled your kingdom, you’d created quite a name for yourself. Your first move had been taking some of the money you swiped from your father and commissioning a crown- one made of black tungsten, with none of the engravings or jewels that had once been your royal right. You wanted smooth, reflective metal, curling around your temples and into short, sharp spikes.

You wore it whenever you weren’t alone, which was nearly all the time. You wore it when you travelled, even under your large hood; you wore it when you fought. And yes, you wore it when you stole.

Jacob followed Estevan to his estate and watched from afar while the guards he’d hired stood watch. He was hidden, and kept watch over the whole of the estate, wondering if he’d catch a glimpse of this Dark Prince.

He was glad he’d chosen to hide, as the skies opened up upon the earth, and he kept semi-dry underneath the leaves of the tree he’d perched within. The guards, walking the length of an exterior wall, had no such refuge from the storm.

He did not notice the black-cloaked figure until it was illuminated by the torchlight. You had no sword drawn to catch the light until you were upon the guards, and the two of them fell to you without so much as a sound.

Jacob, curious, kept his eyes on you as you broke through the wall, having made a hole between the guards’ patrols. He knew that he could easily take you down with a single arrow, but he wanted to see how this would end.

Would you cut through guards, as one of the noblemen had suggested? Why were you attempting this theft when you had to have known you were expected here? Would you succeed?

You entered the home silently, taking stock of your location. You’d received a bit of insider information from one of Estevan’s servants as to the location of his gold, and made a direct route to it.

Gold, as you well know, is one of the heaviest substances on earth. But you were much stronger than you’d been as a prince only trained out of tradition, and not for any true purpose. You were strong enough to carry enough gold to buy a kingdom, and still fight your way out of here.

Today, you would be modest. You only needed to feed a village, a few pounds was plenty. Why take what you didn’t need?

The guards were none the wiser until you made your escape, attempting to break once again through their wall to flee into the surrounding forest. You brought the whole lot of them down upon you, and Jacob relaxed against the tree, assured that you would certainly be brought to justice by the ten guards that you now face.

Yet, you weren’t. You weren’t even harmed. Large hood still hiding your crown and your face, you bled through them, some receiving a strike to the legs to put them on the ground, others struck over the head with the hilt of your sword. You had gone through the whole of them without much of an issue, and walked at not much of a worried pace toward the forest.

Well, if there was a time for Jacob to intervene, now was it. Nothing else stood in your way.

He pulled an arrow and notched it to the drawstring, lifting it to his face. Even in the rain, at this distance, he would make the shot.

No more than three seconds later, you took an arrow to the shoulder.

There was pain, yes. It shocked you into stumbling forward, the sudden motion throwing your hood back and exposing your face. But you’d had your fair share of pain, and more pressing was the confusion- Estevan Perrero hired no archers. There shouldn’t have been any on his property, let alone one who could hit you at this range.

Against your better judgement, you turned, glancing back at the estate you had just removed a few pounds of gold from, and scanned its walls. There were no archers in sight, so you righted your hood and hurried on, disappearing into the forest, showing little care for the arrow you now carried in your shoulder. You knew better than to attempt to remove it.

Jacob threw himself from the tree and gave chase. He couldn’t let you get far- it would be hard to track you in this rain, and he needed to find you.

He had to find this Dark Prince- because it couldn’t possibly be the young prince he’d once loved and protected, all that time ago. It had to have been a trick of the light, or the rain, it couldn’t- this hardened, scarred, skilled thief couldn’t possibly be the compassionate prince whose nightmares he’d once soothed.

He followed you through the forests, to a trade road that lead to a nearby village. You traveled in the rain all through the night until you reached a village, just before dawn, and he followed, far enough behind that you didn’t notice him.

Then, you carefully removed your bag from your shoulder, avoiding the arrow. You distributed the gold among the people, and though they thanked you tremendously, you waved away their offers of repayment upon the condition that you were given somewhere to sleep, and heal.

You were allowed a room in a tavern, the biggest one available. Only once the door had closed did you allow yourself to rest, letting your shoulders fall, your eyes close.

You were so tired.

With one hand, you removed your black crown, regarding it with sorrow-filled eyes. Then, you reached over your shoulder and let your fingers frame the arrow; it was wedged deep into your flesh, and all of the surrounding fabric was soaked through with blood. It needed to be removed, but you couldn’t get a good angle on it, not one comfortable enough to yank it out cleanly. And a clean yank was instrumental- if the arrowhead was left behind, you’d all but lose the arm.

You felt a little bit of panic grip your stomach, as you didn’t know how you’d remove it, and once one emotion broke through to your mind, many followed. You felt your throat close up, fighting against the past you’d left behind, the people you’ve abandoned, all of the killing and the stealing.

“Need help with that?” said a voice behind you, and you quickly sucked up your emotions to whirl around. Had you really forgotten to lock the door?

Any number of quips and comebacks came to mind, but as quickly as they appeared, they faded- you didn’t realize the man who’d regarded you was Jacob.

A thousand feelings flittered through you at the sight of him. He was just as beautiful as you remembered, and he looked at you just as kindly. But you couldn’t push aside how he’d abandoned you without as much as a goodbye. And now- what was he doing here?

Still, you could trust his hands. So you nodded, wordlessly, and turned, gripping onto the table in front of you to make sure your muscles would stay in place as he pulled.

He approached you carefully, as though advancing toward a wild animal, you could hear it in his gait on the squeaky floorboards. He took one hand to the center of your back, then sliding it to the side to frame the arrow with two fingers on either side. He made a small noise as he touched you- you wondered if he was worried for the wound, or surprised by the muscle that had never been there when he’d known you.

“Don’t tense,” he said, and you gave a little scoff. Obviously, you thought to yourself, but that was certainly easier said than done. Without warning he pulled, tearing the arrow from your flesh. You let out a roar, your body falling forward, your uninjured arm barely keeping you from falling flat onto the table. Heaving, agonized breaths took control of your body until the pain ebbed, and you swallowed hard.

“Sorry,” Jacob said, glad he had used a light arrowhead that hadn’t gone deep, and was fairly easy to remove, “I wouldn’t have shot if I knew it was you.” You turned to him, surprised, narrowing your eyes.

“It was you?” You repeated, then turned your eyes to the floor, weighing what that revelation meant. “So then- you followed me? What, have you been hired to arrest me? These people need that gold, you can’t take it back from them!” Jacob shook his head with the slightest of a smile, holding up a hand.

“No, nothing like that,” he said, “I was supposed to stop a theft, but when I saw you-” His gaze raked down your body and back up again. “I never expected to see you so far from home. And so different.” Maybe it was meant to be sweet, but it still stung your heart that he had left you, when he disappeared to wherever he’d gone, some five years ago. Any fondness you felt for him was soured by that.

“I wasn’t too much different, until you shot me,” you said dryly, ”Make it up to me, Jacob, help me dress the wound. That’ll be your first step.” You turned from him and began shedding layers, blood soaked as they were, and laying them over the single chair in the room.

“My first step toward what?” He asked, and you paused, your last layer halfway up your torso, looking away from him.

“Toward letting me forgive you.” With your grim tone, he dropped his queries, waiting for you to completely bare your torso. He searched into his own bag to find a roll of bandage.

You waited, looking over your shoulder at him as he dug through his belongings, and then turned his attention to you. You looked away when he grew closer, closing your eyes against his touch. His hands were exactly as you remembered them- calloused, rough, warm. For a moment before he began giving attention to your renewed wound, he let his fingers trace over the scars that littered you.

“I used to know your body better than any map,” he breathed, running the pad of his finger down the long scar you’d received when your path crossed with an overzealous Mongol, “but it seems like you’ve carved yourself an entirely new terrain.” You swallowed hard as he began wrapping the bandage around your shoulder and torso, gathering your wits to make a response.

“Well, such a thing does happen, when you disappear for five years.” You let him guide your limbs as he dressed the wound, your gaze low, breathing as evenly as you could force yourself to.

“Where have you been?” you asked him, and if you hadn’t known him since childhood, you wouldn’t have picked up on it- but with his little exhale, you heard him smile.

“I spent a few years in the far east, in an opium-stupor,” he said, his fingers just as gentle as they’d ever been, at least when he handled you. “But after Gallain died, I’ve been travelling the world, offering my services anywhere I thought I could do some good. That was why I thought I’d be stopping a theft today.” There was so much to take in, but you couldn’t help but think of your old mentor.

“I’d heard Gallain passed. I’m sorry.” Jacob stiffened, just for a moment, and regardless of the brevity, you felt him do it. No matter how you tried to convince yourself you were holding him away from you, your heart still ached at the thought of the grief he must have felt.

“What’s happened to you, all this time?” He asked, pulling the attention away from himself as he tucked the length of the bandage under itself, your wound completely covered.

You had known the question was coming- it was inevitable. And still, you had to think about your answer. You didn’t want to admit the awful things you’d done, not to him.

“My father was never going to let me be king,” you said with a bit of a pitiful smile, pulling your tunic over yourself again, “You knew that, didn’t you?” Jacob let out a heavy breath, shaking his head.

“I knew he didn’t approve of your politics,” he said, and bit his lip before he added “of us.” You shut your eyes briefly, knowing it was better than seeing whatever expression he had at those two words. Did he miss you? Did he regret being with you? Did he regret leaving you?

“But I never thought he’d cast you out.”

“He didn’t,” you corrected him, lifting your chin before opening your eyes. “I didn’t give him the chance. I left.” Jacob narrowed his eyes briefly, considering what you were saying, and you took the break in the conversation to take a seat on the bed.

“How long ago?”

You caught his eye, and now that he stood above you, you felt almost ashamed of your actions, of the consequences they must’ve had on the people you cared about. Your poor little brother.

“Three years.”

Jacob shook his head, but didn’t say anything. Neither of you looked at the other, and neither said a thing. You looked out the window, seeing the sky grow lighter with the early morning.

“Jacob, I need-” you swallowed harshly, “I have to sleep.” He only let out a laugh, a smile sprouting on his face again.

“Me too,” he said, and after a moment of deep thinking, turned toward the door of the room.

“Jacob,” you said, making him pause, and turn back to you. Now that you had his attention, you couldn’t back down- but you took an instant longer to gather your courage. “You can stay,” you said, and it took you right back to when you’d said those very same words to him for the first time, when he was your knight, before he was a crusader, and you just a young teenaged prince.

If you could assume from the fondness, affection, and longing that warmed his face, he was remembering the same thing.

-🦌 Roe

#jacob #outcast #outcast 2014 #jacob outcast #hayden christensen #nicholas cage #anakin skywalker #x reader #jacob x reader #jacob outcast x reader #jacob x male!reader #x male!reader

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hysterialevi · 3 years

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Eitr | Chapter 2

Fanfic summary: In an alternate universe where the Raven Clan is wiped out, Sigurd ends up being rescued by the son of a Saxon ealdorman, and is tasked with being the boy’s new bodyguard. Upon meeting the boy’s father however, Sigurd soon realizes that the ealdorman is responsible for his clan’s destruction, and secretly plans for revenge while hiding behind the guise of a Norse pagan turned Christian.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male OC

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

FORANGAL CASTLE, WEDENSCIRE

MORNING

Hurrying down the steps of the castle as her dress frolicked around her legs, Lady Edlynne rushed to catch up with her brothers before they could scurry off into town without her, and leave her at the mercy of Bishop Hundwerth once again.

Apparently, the head chef of the castle was in need of some trout for the meal she had planned for this evening, but instead of relying on one of her servants like she normally did, the ealdorman’s sons had offered to fetch it for her, and were preparing to leave from the main gate.

Unfortunately for Edlynne however, her name had been left out of their festivities as per usual, and thus left the girl at a disadvantage considering how she only learned of their plans mere moments ago.

But this time, she was not willing to stay back as she normally did. The dreary walls of the castle had caged her in for far too long already, and with Hundwerth constantly hammering his piety in her ears, the young noblewoman was in desperate need of some fresh air.

Jogging up to the main gate, Edlynne found her brothers conversing at the stable as they readied their horses for the journey ahead, giving them a light snack to start off the new day.

Her twin brother, Joseph, was currently sat on top of a rather wobbly looking fence with an apple in his hand, but seemed to fare alright thanks to his lean frame. He was only a boy of sixteen years and hardly stood any taller than his sister, but even then, some still considered him to be particularly scrawny for a nobleman.

As for their elder brother, Edric, his appearance was more akin to that of a soldier than a lord. Despite not even being thirty years of age yet, the young man already had his fair share of battle scars and sported a rough beard, giving him a much more weathered temperament than his father probably would’ve liked.

He constantly carried a sword around with him and armored himself with a black gambeson, but still made sure that the cross hanging from his neck was visible underneath the collar of his cape.

Both of them were a welcome sight to see after Edlynne’s many days of being trapped in the castle, but with the absence of their eldest brother Gareth looming over them like a stormy cloud, she couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sadness suddenly gripping at her heart.

“Joseph, Edric!” She exclaimed, running up to them. “Wait!”

The two boys turned their heads towards her, clearly surprised to see her face this morning.

“Sister,” Joseph greeted, “I didn’t expect to see you here today. It’s been ages since I last saw you out in the sun. Will you be joining us in town?”

Edlynne sighed out of annoyance. “God, I hope so. Bishop Hundwerth hasn’t dared take his eyes off me ever since I spoke of my interest in the Danes’ religion. He fears that their influence will corrupt me.”

Edric chuckled at that. “You thinking of converting to paganism, Edlynne?”

“Hardly,” she denied. “I will always be a Christian at heart, but I do not think it is wrong to have an interest in other religions either. How can we expect to resolve the conflict in our shire if we will not even attempt to understand our enemies?”

Joseph took a bite out of his apple. “Well, some people would consider that to be heresy.”

Edlynne crossed her arms. “Some people would see us at war for another century.”

The eldest threw a grin at his brother. “You hear that, Joseph? Wise beyond her years, this one. We should give her a seat next to father.”

Edlynne smiled in response. “You jest, but I’ll have you know that father has sought my counsel in the past. He spoke to me last night, in fact. Though... it’s not very often he actually listens to me, I’ll admit.”

Joseph hopped off the fence. “Well, whatever you do, just make sure he doesn’t hear of your fascination with the Danes. You know of his feelings for them.”

The girl’s expression drooped with sorrow. “Yes, I do. He’s changed so much ever since... well, you know.”

Falling into a state of heartache, the young woman quickly snapped out of her grief when she realized how she had dampened the mood and forced herself to push her thoughts aside, not wanting them to overtake her again.

“But... let us not dwell on that. You two have a busy day ahead of you, and my chances of getting any fresh air dwindle with every minute Hundwerth isn’t near me. So let’s get going.”

Edric climbed on top of his horse, taking hold of the reins. “Alright. Edlynne, you go with Joseph. I’ll take my own mount. We’ll ride the path west of here, and cut through the woods into Agenbury. It’ll take longer, but the main roads are laden with soldiers nowadays. I’d rather not weave my way through them.”

Taking a seat behind her brother as he plopped himself onto the saddle, Edlynne wrapped her arms around Joseph’s waist and held him tightly as the three of them began trotting through the main gate, bidding the castle farewell.

It was a bright morning today, blotted with only a few clouds. The sun shone freely throughout the sky despite the residue from the recent storm, and thanks to the rain that poured on Wedenscire the previous night, a fresh layer of mist hung over the land, catching the light in a fashion that was worthy of paintings.

“It’s beautiful out here,” Edlynne remarked. “And also much colder than I remember. Though, that’s probably due to the storm. Still, it’s nice to be outside of the castle walls again. I can’t recall the last time father allowed me to leave. Thank you both for letting me come with you.”

��Of course,” Joseph replied. “I fear that Edric and I were also in need of some time away from Forangal. That’s why we volunteered to help Nelda. The poor old woman’s practically locked herself in the larder this morning, trying to prepare this meal for us.”

“How is Nelda?” Edlynne asked. “I’ve not spoken to her in ages.”

“Oh, you know her,” Joseph said sarcastically. “Cranky, old bat as usual. Still the same woman that used to chase us around the castle after we’d steal the treats when we were children.”

Edric butted in. “And then blame me for it.”

Joseph laughed at that. “Do you remember that one time Edlynne and I brought in that stray cat from the streets? And we accidentally left it alone in the kitchens? The wretched animal had buried its face in a meal she was making for father, and sent it spilling all over to the floor. I thought Nelda was going to butcher us all that day -- cat included.”

“Oh, don’t remind me. She dragged the two of you fools over to me later that day and shouted with a fury so hot that I could’ve sworn I saw flames on her breath. Gareth had to calm her down whilst we ended up cleaning the kitchen.”

Edlynne smiled at the memory. “Gareth always had a way with Nelda. He knew how to ease her temper.”

“Indeed,” Joseph said. “Though, I think he had that effect on everyone. Something about him always brought peace to other peoples’ hearts. He knew how to unify them in times of division, and comfort them in times of war.”

A morose sigh escaped the sullen boy. “Things will... not be the same without him around. I know it’s been over a month since he died, but... I fear the wounds are still fresh.”

“Aye.” Edric agreed quietly. “He was a good brother to us all. And an even better friend. It was a tragic loss, the day he died. I think father’s taken the brunt of it.”

A sudden thought crossed the man’s mind. “Edlynne, you said you spoke with him last night?”

The girl nodded. “I did.”

“And... how did he seem? Did he seem better to you?”

Edlynne stuttered, unsure of how to describe their encounter. “I... I don’t know, to be honest. He appeared to be doing alright, but it felt like he was wearing a mask. As if... he was simply putting on a strong face for everyone else’s sake. Deep down though, I think he’s still hurting.”

“Of course he is,” Edric noted. “He lost one of his children. It’s a parent’s worst nightmare.”

Joseph raised a question. “What exactly happened to Gareth, anyway? I know he was killed near Grantebridge, but father has yet to give us any further details.”

“That’s because you would not wish to hear them,” his brother explained. “Believe me. All you need to know is that a clan of Danes killed him. The Raven Clan, specifically.”

The name was unfamiliar to Edlynne. “The Raven Clan? Who are they?”

“You haven’t heard of them? They’ve been causing quite a stir in Mercia -- killing kings and crowning new ones. From what I understand, they’re the ones who helped the Ragnarssons remove Burgred from his throne.”

“But why kill Gareth?” Joseph asked. “What could they possibly gain from killing the son of an ealdorman? Aside from a lifetime of conflict, that is.”

Edric sighed solemnly. “I do not know their reasons, nor their justifications. But you would do well not to get caught up on it. All that matters now is that Gareth is at peace. He was a devote Christian, and he now joins our mother in Heaven, forever to be at God’s side. He would not want us to sulk. So keep your chins up -- both of you -- and let us carry on with our day.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A WHILE LATER

AGENBURY

Finally arriving at Agenbury, the three siblings slowed down to a halt as the peaceful settlement came into view, decorating the flat horizon with a quaint series of houses and shops.

The quiet town seemed to be the same as usual -- lunatics and all -- and despite the hefty toll the war had taken on its people, everything appeared to be in working order.

The fisherman’s wife, Ardith, remained attached to her husband’s stall as always, and with the unpleasant stench of freshly-captured fish to start off her morning, the permanent scowl on her face only seemed to deepen.

“There’s Ardith,” Edric pointed out. “She’ll have the trout we need.” He climbed off of his horse, leaving it near the main entrance. “Come along then, you two. Let’s finish this quickly.”

Mirroring their brother’s actions, Joseph and Edlynne unmounted their horse before following the young man into town, hanging behind him as he navigated his way through the scattered groups of civilians.

Many of the town’s residents seemed to eye the noble family with a wary gaze -- which was uncommon for their people -- and the further they stepped into the watchful settlement, the more everyone’s voices seemed to lower into hushed tones.

“Is it just me,” Joseph whispered among them, “or does it feel... odd here today?”

Edlynne narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “No, it’s definitely not just you. The people here seem frightened. It’s almost like the whole town is... waiting for something. Do you reckon something happened before we arrived?”

“It’s most likely because of the war,” Edric assumed. “I know the conflicts in Wedenscire have had a rough impact on these people. Who knows what kind of horrors they’ve had to endure at the hands of the Danes? Though... there don’t seem to be any signs of a raid.”

Joseph disagreed. “If there had been a raid, we would’ve heard about it. This is something different.”

“I suppose we’ll find out, given enough time. Just keep your wits about you, and try not to alarm anyone.”

Carrying on with their plans, the three of them casually walked up to Ardith’s stall as the woman focused on organizing her collection of fish, stopping only to greet the peculiar customers that had suddenly shown up at her shop.

“Hello, Ardith.” Edric said, deterring the woman’s attention.

“Oh, good morning, milord!” She said in surprise. “I was not expecting to see you here today. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I’m just here to pick up some trout for Nelda back at the castle.”

The stout woman rested a hand on her hip. “Ah, I see. Normally, it’s her servants that come by, but I won’t turn away a friendly face.”

Her expression grew dim. “I’m... so sorry about what happened to Gareth, Edric. We received the news not too long ago. He was loved by many people in Agenbury. It’s such a shame that he had to depart from this world in so brutal a manner. He will be missed.”

Edric nodded in agreement. “Indeed. His death has affected us all, I fear.”

“And Aegenwulf? How does your father fare?”

The young man shrugged in uncertainty. “Hard to say. He keeps his head high and does what he must to protect this shire, but he bears the burdens of twenty men combined. I do not envy his position.”

Ardith gave him a look of sympathy. “Aye. But have no fear, Edric. Your father’s always been a fighter. Trust me. I’ve known him since before he had any grey in his hair. He will come through. I know he will.”

“Thank you, friend. Your words bring me comfort.”

Joseph jumped into the conversation, inquiring about the rest of the town. “Ardith, do you have any idea why Agenbury’s so on edge today? The town carries a strange mood.”

The woman nearly offered a response, but bit her tongue in hesitance. “Y-Yes, but I do not wish to burden you with our troubles, young lord. I imagine you’ve enough of your own already.”

Edlynne took a step towards the stall. “Please, Ardith. If something has happened in this town, we’d like to help. You’re our people, after all.”

Ardith let out a deep sigh and crossed her arms, glancing back at her house.

“I-It’s my husband, Wilfred,” she said quietly. “He went fishing at the harbor this morning as he always does, but... instead of returning with a sack of fish, he came back with a bloody Dane...!”

Edric paused in alarm upon hearing that. “What? A Dane? In Agenbury?”

“Believe me, I was just as shocked as you. Apparently, Wilfred found him washed up on the shore, beaten and wounded. By whom or what, I don’t know, but he already looked dead by the time my husband dragged him back.”

Joseph decided to ask for more information. “Do you have any idea who he is? Or where he came from?”

Ardith shook her head. “No. We’ve yet to speak to him. He’s been unconscious ever since Wilfred brought him back from the harbor.”

The boy let out an uneasy breath. “Father’s not going to like this. He’s been tense enough already ever since Gareth died. If he finds out that a Dane has infiltrated the town...”

Edlynne cut him off. “He won’t. Not yet.”

Her twin quirked a brow. “What do you mean, not yet? He’s the ealdorman, for God’s sake. He has to know.”

“We can’t tell him about this. Not for the moment, at least. If father learns about this Dane’s presence, he’ll have him killed for sure.”

Edric scowled. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

The noblewoman remained staunch in her belief. “Listen, both of you -- I know everyone’s still hurting from Gareth’s death, and believe me, I am too. But we could learn something from this Dane. He might be useful to us.”

Edric wasn’t entirely convinced yet. “We don’t even know if this man speaks our tongue, Edlynne. And if he does, there’s no guarantee he’ll help us anyways. You know the Danes. They’d rather pick death over dishonor.”

“Even then, I’d like to be certain of what this man’s intentions are before we start lopping off anyone’s heads. Let me speak to him, at least.”

Edric sighed in defeat, crossing his arms. “...Very well. If that is what you wish. But be careful, sister. We have no idea who this man is. And I’d rather we return to the castle in one piece.”

The young man turned back to Ardith, trying to calm the woman’s nerves. “Have no fear, old friend. We’ll speak to this Dane for you. He need not worry you any longer.”

She seemed pleased with that. “Thank you, Edric. I think everyone would feel better if we knew who he was, or why he was here. He should still be at home.”

“Then I will go there,” Edlynne said. “Joseph can come with me whilst you conclude your business here, brother. That way, we can get things done faster.”

“Alright,” Edric agreed. “I’ll meet you there once I’m finished here. Don’t do anything drastic before I arrive.”

The girl gave him a reassuring nod. “Of course.” She turned to her twin, beckoning him to follow. “Come on, Joseph. Let’s go see this Dane for ourselves.”

Allowing their paths to diverge for the moment, Edlynne and Joseph made their way to Wilfred’s house while Edric stayed behind to collect the fish for Nelda, clearly still unsettled by the strange turn of events.

He understood it was unfair to judge one Dane based on the actions of many others, but in a time of war, compassion and empathy were always a dangerous thing to gamble with.

Edric knew details about Gareth’s death that the twins didn’t. He knew how the Danes had butchered him and left his body for the ravens, and he knew that their people were not so easily negotiated with.

But still... he supposed he could let Edlynne investigate this Dane’s sudden appearance, at the very least. He may have been skeptical of this man’s motivations, but he could not deny that he was curious to learn the truth for himself.

And so, without another word said, Edric simply let the twins go about their business as he continued his conversation with Ardith, eager to get this errand over with.

Meanwhile, Edlynne and Joseph walked side-by-side as they approached the fisherman’s house, speculating amongst themselves about what this Dane could’ve possibly wanted. It wasn’t uncommon for a Northman to be in Wedenscire exactly, but Agenbury was a different story.

“A single Dane showing up on our shores...” Edlynne murmured, “what could it mean?”

Joseph shrugged nervously. “Nothing good, that’s for certain. I’m aware that not all of them are barbarians as Hundwerth would have us believe, but tensions have been rising ever since Gareth was killed. If we don’t sort this situation out properly, it could reach a breaking point.”

“Then let us make haste, lest it comes to that.”

Strolling up to the fisherman’s front door, Joseph firmly knocked on the wooden surface as the two of them waited for a response, silently observing the quiet house.

There didn’t seem to be much activity happening inside -- probably due to the Dane’s unconscious state -- and the only sounds they could hear were the rapid footsteps of a man coming to greet them at the door.

“Pardon my untidiness, whoever you are,” a gruff voice said from the inside as they moved around some objects to clear the way, “but I fear things have been rather... disorderly this morning.”

The fisherman swung open the door, revealing an old but lively man standing in the entryway.

“Now, then, how can I--” He came to a halt, his eyes widening in surprise upon seeing the twins.

“Lord Joseph...! And sweet Lady Edlynne. Well, I certainly didn’t expect to see you two here today. I suppose this morning’s just chock-full of unlikely guests, isn’t it? What brings you to my doorstep?”

Joseph beamed at the elderly man. “Hello, Wilfred. Your wife sent us. She said you had a... Dane problem?

Wilfred scratched the bald patch on his head, sighing in discontent. “Aye. The poor bastard. I found him this morning, lying unconscious and alone. He was laden with battle wounds, and covered in blood. I don’t have a clue why the river shat him out in Agenbury of all places, but I wasn’t about to leave a man to die. Saxon or not.”

Edlynne admired his compassion. “Then you’ve already done more than most. Has he woken up yet?”

“Nay. He’s been out cold ever since I brought him back. He spoke briefly when we first met, but it was mostly out of delirium. Couldn’t understand a word he said. You know the Danes. Bloody weird language, they have.”

“May we see him?” Joseph asked. “We’d like to speak with this man ourselves, if possible.”

Wilfred stepped off to the side, granting them entrance. “Of course. Do what you wish. Though, I’m not sure if he’ll wake up during your stay here. He was in a severely bad state when I found him.”

Strolling through the front door, Joseph and Edlynne welcomed themselves into the cozy atmosphere of Wilfred’s home as they gazed around in curiosity, anxious to see what this Dane looked like.

Joseph had already met a few of their people during his time with Edric and Gareth, but Edlynne on the other hand, had yet to meet a Dane for herself. Aegenwulf often kept them at a distance when it came to interactions with his daughter, and now that he had lost one of his own children to their axes, the girl imagined he would only grow more protective.

“Look,” she said with a soft gasp, “there he is.”

Following his sister’s line of sight, Joseph spotted the fallen Dane sleeping on the opposite side of the room, seemingly undisturbed.

He was currently resting on a makeshift bed that Wilfred had created, and was wrapped head-to-toe in an abundance of bandages. He looked like he was still breathing -- for the time being -- but just based on the amount of blood that was already seeping from his skin, Joseph started to wonder if they’d even get a chance to see him wake.

He appeared rather normal though, the boy thought. For a Dane. His skin was etched with many traditional Nordic markings, and the red hair on his head had been shaved in a fashion common with his people. Meanwhile, his beard remained bushy and untamed, and the calloused texture of his hands told Joseph he was no stranger to battle.

“Friendly looking fellow, isn’t he.” The boy remarked.

Edlynne walked closer to the man, driven by her fascination.

“I’ve... never seen a Dane before. Father has always done his best to keep me away from them, but... he looks surprisingly human. Bishop Hundwerth always makes it sound as if they’re the Devil himself roaming the earth.”

Joseph took a seat on a nearby chair. “Bishop Hundwerth would call it heresy if one of his priests farted too loudly in the chapel. Pay him no mind.”

The noblewoman turned back to the fisherman, asking him more questions.

“Wilfred, what was he like when you found him? I know you said he was hurt, but... how hurt, exactly?”

The old man exhaled deeply, crossing his arms. “Let’s just say I’m surprised he was alive to begin with. He had two bloody arrows sticking out of his chest, and his skin was torn up from getting sliced so many times. I don’t know much about their pagan gods, but they must be a protective bunch to pull him out of that.”

Joseph thought back to their talk with Ardith. “Your wife said you found him on the shore?”

“Indeed. I assume the river carried him here from upstream. Possibly from the north. He crawled out of it like a corpse rising from the dead.”

“Do you think he’ll live?”

Wilfred furrowed his brow in a grim manner. “I... I don’t know, Joseph. I’ve done everything I can to patch him up, but I’m just a simple fisherman at the end of the day. I’m no healer.”

Interrupting their conversation, a knock suddenly emitted from the door, leading all of them to bring their attention to the entrance.

“That must be Edric.” Joseph announced.

Allowing their new guest to come in, Wilfred stepped over the many items scattered around the house before opening the door, revealing Edric on the other side.

“Ah, hello, milord. Your siblings are here already.”

The young man poked his head in, greeting the twins with a new sack of fish on his shoulder.

“Well?” He said, walking into the house. “Have you two learned anything?”

Joseph shook his head. “Not much, I’m afraid. We’re fairly certain the river carried the Dane here from upstream, but other than that... all we have is speculation.”

Edric strode towards them, kneeling beside his sister. “Speculation won’t do us any good. We need to know for sure who he is, and what he wants. I assume he hasn’t woken up yet?”

“No. He’s been unconscious this whole time. We don’t even know if he’ll survive.”

Wilfred joined their side, offering his advice to Edric. “As I was explaining to your brother earlier, milord, the only way this Dane is going to survive is if you get him in the hands of a healer. I’ve done what I can to buy him some time, but... without proper medical treatment, I fear he may pass soon.”

Edlynne’s expression lit up with an idea. “Linette! Back at the castle! She could look after him. She knows what she’s doing.”

The look on Edric’s face alone was enough to make his disapproval clear. “What? You want to bring a Dane back to the castle? After what just happened with Gareth?”

“I know it’s risky,” the young woman conceded, “but he’s dying, Edric. He needs our help.”

“So do many of our own people.” He countered. “We need to save our resources for those we can trust; those who will fight for us. Not stray Danes that wash up on our shores.”

Edlynne almost appeared offended at that. “Brother, do you hear yourself? This man’s life is in our hands, and you’re willing to just throw it away? All because he’s a Dane?”

The older man fell silent for a moment, admittedly feeling somewhat ashamed of his words, but still obstinate in his opinion.

“I know it’s harsh, Edlynne, but you’ve not seen the horrors that have occurred between our people and the Danes. We’d be foolish to trust one, especially when we have no idea who he is. There’s also the fact that we’d have to keep his presence a secret. Until he wakes up, at least.”

“I think it’s worth it if it means we can save a life,” she replied. “I understand your fear, brother, but what sort of Christians would we be if simply stood by and watched this man die? His being a pagan doesn’t make him any less deserving of our help.”

Edric grew frustrated with his sister’s naivety. “It’s not just about the religion, Edlynne. It’s also about the war. There’s no love lost between Saxons and Danes, and for good reason. How do you think our friend here is going to react when he wakes up in a foreign castle, surrounded by hostile forces?”

The young woman frowned. “And what if he has a clan? What if they come looking for him? How do you think they’ll react when they find out we simply left him to die?”

Joseph shrugged in agreement. “She raises a fair point, Edric. If we help this man and he turns out to hate the Saxons, so what? We’ll have a castle full of guardsmen fighting against a single Dane. But if we don’t help him and his clan comes looking for him, we’ll have an entire army to deal with, plus anyone who’s allied with them. I say we bring him back. How much harm could he do in this condition, anyways?”

Edric sighed in defeat, finding himself at a loss for words. He really wasn’t fond of the idea of bringing a stranger back into the midst of their home -- especially when that stranger was a viking -- but deep down, he knew it was the right thing to do.

After all, what good was he as a Christian if he was not even willing to help those in need? He may have distrusted the Danes for their crimes in the past, but on the other hand, he had no way of indicating that this particular man had any similar motives.

For all he knew, this could’ve just been some poor soul who had gotten caught in the crossfire, and left for dead. There was nothing that could prove he had any intentions of doing wrong by their people, and... perhaps it would’ve been cruel to assume otherwise without even giving him a chance to wake up.

“...Alright, you two.” Edric finally said. “We’ll bring the Dane back to the castle.”

Edlynne beamed with appreciation. “You mean it?”

“Yes, but this will not bode well with father.”

Joseph dismissed the warning. “Father is blinded by his grief. He’ll understand eventually.”

Edric stood up from the floor and handed the sack of trout to his brother, giving him a new set of instructions.

“Here, take this. Ride back to Forangal. I’ll bring the Dane with me, and meet you two at Linette’s clinic later.”

Joseph groaned in effort as he lugged the sack over his shoulder, surprised at how heavy it was.

“Sounds good. Stay safe on the way back, brother. We promise not to tell father about this.”

“Good.”

Bringing his attention to Wilfred, Edric took out a few pieces of silver and placed them in the man’s hands, giving him an appreciative nod.

“Here, Wilfred. For your troubles.”

The fisherman smiled warmly. “Thank you, Edric. You’re far too kind.”

The nobleman chuckled. “My sister would disagree.”

Making their way out of Wilfred’s house, the siblings finally took their leave from Agenbury and swiftly returned to the stables, eager to ride back to the castle. They had no idea how well they’d be able to keep this a secret, considering all the prying eyes at Forangal, but the three of them were determined to ensure this man’s survival.

He could’ve been the key to all the conflicts that had arisen in Wedenscire. So many fights had broken out in the past few years between their people and the Danes, that a part of Edlynne hoped their new friend’s presence would help to ease the tensions.

Though, she couldn’t help but wonder if her elder brother was right. What if Edric turned out to be correct, and this Dane only ended up causing more trouble? Was it wise to trust a man so blindly?

Probably not, but that didn’t hinder her desire to help the wounded man. He was completely at their mercy in his current condition, and Edlynne did not have the heart to cast him aside, regardless of the risks.

So, with a nervous heart, the young woman simply followed her brothers out of town and prepared herself for the journey ahead, praying that it would not end in more bloodshed. She knew how adamant their father was in his hatred for Danes, and she hoped that he would be able to see past the grief that still held onto him so tightly.

Gareth would’ve vouched for peace, after all. He always favored the diplomatic route over unnecessary violence, and in light of recent events, Edlynne imagined he would’ve wanted them to save this man too.

It was the only right thing to do, Edlynne thought. And she did not intend diminish her brother’s legacy.

#assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #sigurd styrbjornson #male oc #female oc #sigurd x male oc #ac valhalla fanfic #eitr

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ardawyn · 5 years

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OC Backstory Weeks by @yourocsbackstory | Week 2: Friends

Introduction | Family | Friends (980 words)

Martha von Hochfels | The Dawnbringer

Friends. Every child finds a friend somewhere. In the birds that sit chirping upon the trees, or stray cats that find their ways over rooftops or open doors. Or even fleeting friends, like raindrops racing one another on the glass of windows that keep you company while you stare outside, waiting for the weather to clear.

When I was a little girl, my dearest friend was my cousin Tilda. Her brothers, too, were very dear to me. But when their lord father wanted them to move to their family estate, I was robbed of those friends that brightened my days. After that I returned to my friends the birds and the cats. I never considered myself as particularly stubborn, but it took long for me to accept their sudden disappearance.

A tomcat I named Clover had become my companion for a long time. I had begged Father to let me keep him, but he hadn't been so keen to let a stray cat into my chambers. So he had allowed me to keep him, to feed him, if only I promised not to bring him inside.

I had other friends, too. Almut, Elisabeth and Ingrid. They were the daughters of Mother's ladies, and were brought to court when I was ten years of age. Ingrid came one year later, but I had warmed up faster with her in a short time than I did with Almut and Elisabeth. But I often felt lonely still.

They had come to court to become company for a princess and not bring comfort to a lonely little girl. I often found myself wondering if they simply did not want to understand me. And when we played, they often left me by myself.

Whatever you wish, princess, they said when I asked them what we should play or do. You are the princess, you decide, was another utterance I often heard. I wanted to be a girl, not a princess.

When I was fourteen years of age, I met Constanza. She was two years older and the daughter of a wealthy merchant from Essia. For years her father shipped wine and other fine goods to the capital of Issarien, and my father had become rather fond of him.

But one time, on an early autumn's day, their ship had been caught in a hazardous storm and Constanza's father Guillen broke his leg as he slipped on the slick deck. My father insisted they stayed in our home for the time being until his leg was healed. Much to Constanza's dislike. Even if she had spend a lot of her years on her father's ship, it had only been the second time that she accompanied him to Issarien. She barely spoke our tongue, I barely spoke hers either, and she had found herself trapped in the colder growing north while her skin longed for the warmer south. Often we all sat together for meals in Father's solar, and while Guillen could laugh and jest with his injured leg, Constanza could not. She looked morosely at all times. Sad and lonely.

And I suffered with her. I did not know her, did not know how she truly felt, but I could understand her frustration. To approach her was the hardest part. To overcome my shyness as well as nervousness, knowing she would not understand me, and I not her.

It had been a coincidence that I stumbled upon her in the library when rain was pouring endlessly behind the thick, cold walls. She sat coiled together on a chair before one of three crackling fireplaces, eyes gliding over the pages of a book. So I gathered my courage and seated myself on the chair beside her. When I glimpsed a few words of the book that was resting in her hands, it was a surprise to see it was written in Narosh. Not a language I was particularly familiar with, but I did know enough words to hold a conversation. I certainly understood more than I actually spoke.

With nervousness putting my cheeks aflame, I greeted her in Narosh. I felt silly speaking the tongue that rolled oddly from my lips. Yet today, I am glad that I dared that step for that was the first time I saw her smiling. Her voice had been thick with an unfamiliar accent when she corrected my weak attempt of pronouncing three short words.

Fortunately, Constanza spoke Narosh much better than I did, and it helped us communicate. It helped us establish a relationship where I thought none was possible. She was not as morosely and unkind as I first had feared, even if her words were brusque at times. It happened even that she was fond of telling stories, mostly of her time on her father's ship, voyaging to foreign countries. If true or untrue was hard to tell sometimes, but I liked to listen to her jaunty voice. Often she spun the stories so that I had to guess what happened next.

Adventurous and lively, Constanza was so different to the girls I spend most of my days with, the girls that should have been my friends but never had felt true. And it was not until a few years later that I truly considered Constanza my friend. Whenever her father sailed to Issarien, she accompanied him, and she even brought me gifts from her home. Twice she came for a longer visit in the warmer days of summer, until her father returned again.

I do not see her very often, but each time we meet is precious. If Father would let me, I would love to travel to her home too.

Perhaps one day I will see more of Essia than just what stories and gifts tell me. But for now I will await the familiar sails on the horizon with elation for my friend from overseas.

#wip: tdb #oc: martha #ocbackstory #yourocsbackstory #edit #oof this got way longer than I thought...#tdbbackstory

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dailyaudiobible · 4 years

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06/18/2020 DAB Transcript

1 Kings 19:1-21, Acts 12:1-23, Psalms 136:1-26, Proverbs 17:14-15

Today is the 18th day of June welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it is a joy and an honor to be here with you today around the Global Campfire as we just kind of step away for second. There’s always plenty of distraction and there's always swirling thoughts that can kind of pull us away and lead us down paths that lead us in a funky mood or whatever. There’s always something, but this little space that we've created each day is an oasis. We just kind of step away from it all. It's not going anywhere. We…we might change in the process and approach it differently when we return, but this is just permission to allow God's word to speak into our lives and just rest in that knowing that we’re not alone. If you're listening to this right now, you're not listening alone. Nobody ever is. Ever. So, we just ease back, relax, and let God's word speak. And that will take us back into the book of first Kings. Yesterday we had a showdown in a place called Mount Caramel which still exists until this very day. It’s a mountain. And there's a king in the North, his name is Ahab and there’s a prophet in the North and his name is Elijah. And there was a showdown between the God of Israel and the prophets of Baal. The prophets of Baal are no longer with us, but Elijah is. God showed up with fire from heaven, loosed the skies so that rain, which had been absent for three years is coming upon the land. Ahab the king is in his chariot racing back to Jezreel. Elijah’s running and running faster than the chariot to outrun this storm. Meanwhile, Ahab's wife, her name is Jezebel, is about to find out that all her prophets are dead. She doesn't know it yet. And that's where we pick up the story. We’re reading from the New Living Translation this week. First Kings chapter 19 today.

Commentary:

Okay, so we can’t skip by first Kings because this is such an amazing story, it’s such an interesting turn. So, Elijah has prophesied to the King of Israel Ahab that there's going to be no rain. Ahab searches for Elijah for three years all over the known world trying to find him because there isn't any rain. Elijah shows back up on the scene and confronts the king, summons the prophets of Baal to mount caramel and essentially throws down a challenge that the God who answers from heaven by fire is the true God. Of course, the people were like, “yeah that sounds like a good deal. The God who answers by fire from heaven, that would be the most powerful God. That's a good deal.” And, so, this all happens, the prophets of Baal spent all day cutting themselves and the whole thing. And then God answers by fire. The prophets of Baal are killed. Rain comes back to the land. Ahab the king is racing back in his chariot to his wife Jezebel who’s in the city of Jezreel. Jezebel finds out that her prophets are dead even though fire came from heaven and the people's hearts are returning to the God of Israel. She's not Hebrew. She…she…she married the king for an alliance. So, the Hebrew God and the Hebrew traditions and the Hebrew way of things, this isn't so important to her. She's very upset and she sends a note to Elijah that says, “may God punish me very severely, even kill me, if I don't kill you by tomorrow, basically, “if your heads on your shoulders tomorrow then may God judge me.” And it's really interesting what happens there because Elijah had just…I mean…the miraculous was all around him. The things that God had just done to affirm him as His prophet, the power that had just been displayed, like he should be walking, you know, a foot off the ground in confidence and the people's hearts are returning to God. Like he should be…like, this is…this is a big thing. But he gets this is note and he freaks out and he runs away. The prophet who had just called down fire from heaven runs away out of fear from Jezebel. And he doesn't like just run and hide, he seriously actually flees, he runs far. So, he is in the northern kingdom of Israel near Mount Carmel, which is kind of somewhat of a coastal mountain. It's not right on the ocean but it's not that far from the Mediterranean coast. This is…this is the Jezreel Valley. This is fertile territory. He runs south all the way to Beersheba, which is in the transition zone of the desert, the southernmost border city of ancient Israel, now Judah. So, Elijah crosses an international border from Israel into Judah, keeps fleeing south to Beersheba, leaves his servant and then goes into the no man's land of the desert, not just camping out and hiding in the desert but continuing in the desert all the way into Egypt. All the way to Mount Sinai where we spent so much of our time earlier in the year where the law was given. I've never…I never measured. Like I’m guessing here, but I'm thinking that to drive from Mount Caramel all the way to Mount Sinai, even with like with no delays whatsoever at all, that's gotta be like 10 hours just moving steadily in a car. And that's if there's like interstate. Like we’re talking about barren wilderness, empty desert here. And he’s on foot. So, this is a very long way that he's running. And he gets back to this mountain and it's beautiful that he would go. Like he…he really feels alone here. And, so, he’s making this journey. It's just interesting. He gets to Mount Sinai and he's in a cave and he's waiting, and God shows up and God says, “what are you doing here, Elijah?” That is so interesting. Elijah, of course, pours out his heart. Like he's the only one. There's nobody left, He’s the only one that's true, everybody's trying to kill him. He's…he's at the bottom, right? He's really, really low and he's kind of gone on almost a pilgrimage to make some sense of all of this and God tells him to come out to meet him on the mountain. And that's when it's really really fascinating because all the power is displayed on the mountain. I mean the same kind of power that was shown up at Mont Carmel - fire from heaven and everything. So, there's a windstorm and rocks are falling off the side of the mountain and God’s not in that. And there's an earthquake and that shakes the whole land and God’s not in it. And there's fire and God’s not in it. Like it's not in all these fantastic displays of power that you would expect. That's what we’re looking for, the signs and the wonders. Instead it's just in the whisper. Elijah knows that God’s out there waiting now in the still small voice. And he goes out and God asks him again, “what are you doing here?” And Elijah then pours out his heart. Like I'm the only one. There's nobody left. This…this is why I’m here. Like everybody has abandoned you and everyone is trying to kill me. And that's when God tells him, “it’s not true. Go back the way you came. You have to appoint a new king. Like my plan isn't finished. What's happening here isn't over. Your job isn't done. You have to appoint your successor as well, a new prophet in Israel. Your work isn't finished.” Man, I…I love the story because it's…you know…we have a very, very good narrative. It's a very well reading story. It’s a beautiful story to behold. But once it becomes a mirror it's a pretty serious story to penetrate deep into our own hearts because how many times have we been this character in this story? How many times have we heard from God, obeyed God, walked in the confidence of the Lord, seen God move in our lives until somebody is offended and we get a text, we get a nasty note, and then we run, run, run, run, run until we’re out in the wilderness again, wandering again, alone again. And it’s like God comes to us in His kindness and mercy and says, “what are you doing here?” And maybe that's the question for the day. Maybe that's the question for this season. Maybe that's the question that needs to be asked. What are you doing here? And maybe you got here because you were looking for God chasing signs and wonders looking for him to show up in his power and majesty when He never left you, he never forsook you. He was always there, the still small voice. He was never absent from you. And maybe He’s saying, “go back the way you came. Your work is not accomplished yet.” It's funny, no matter how many times I think about that story there's never a time that I can’t think of some area in my life that that does not apply to. And I think of lots of times in my lives…life in years well gone by where clearly…where looking for God in the wilderness was sort of the way I lived, wandering around in the barrenness looking for something. And I am so grateful that…that God comes to each one of us at one point or another with the same question, “what are you doing here?” And, so, may we stir some of that into our cup today and sip on it as we ponder.

Prayer:

Father, we invite You into that. I mean it's true. We’ve spent plenty of our lives wandering in the wilderness. We’ve spent plenty of our lives on the run from things. We don’t often slow down enough to search for You in…in all of this. We’re usually waiting for You to move things out of our way so that we can just walk on…on a path. We’re just waiting for…for You to show up and do things for us, not expecting that You might show up and say, “what are You doing here?” So, we invite You into that. We need Your leadership, we need Your counsel, we need Your correction, we need Your rebuke, we need Your kindness, we need You. And, so, we open ourselves to You so that You might lead us in the steps forward from here. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In Jesus’ name we ask. Amen.

Song:

Sanctuary - Chris Rodriguez

Seems I left the innocence of Eden long ago Tempted by my heart to go it on my own Beyond the garden, somehow through the desert Of my wanderings alone, You have never let me go

I turn from You and still You cover me I fall so far, You find me in the deep Anywhere I am, anywhere I am You sanctuary me

I have felt the separation deep within my bones Brought me to my knees, crying out for hope Beyond the garden, somehow through my tears You heard the words I could not speak, You were there to rescue me

I turn from You and still You cover me I fall so far, You find me in the deep I lose my way, You're reaching out to me Anywhere I am, anywhere I am, You sanctuary me

I turn from You and still You cover me

I fall so far, You find me in the deep

I lose my way, You're reaching out to me

Anywhere I am, anywhere I am, You sanctuary me

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straykidsscribbles · 5 years

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For Who Could Ever Learn to Love a Dragon?

My one year anniversary fic- I can’t believe it’s been so long since I’ve written for Minho. Thank you to all of you, for all the support, patience, and kindness. You’re amazing. I hope you enjoy this, and my other works. My masterlist is in my description.

Summary: The mountain always looked terribly mysterious, and the dragon trapped inside was cruel and lost... never to be loved by anyone again.

Word Count: 9233 words, Beauty and the Beast AU, Minho x neutral reader

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a young prince. His name was Lee Minho, and he was well known throughout the lands as one of the most talented dancers of his generation. People would travel far and wide to come and see his performances. Minho received award after award, accolades aplenty, and adoration from all around him.

Unfortunately… the praise ended up getting to his head. And so, Minho’s talent morphed into vanity and hubris. People who had longed to learn from him or just meet him even were disappointed by his cutting words and cruel language.

A year passed in this manner, and Minho only grew more and more vain. He began turning away even the students that had studied under him for years and the teammates that he had once danced with. Minho grew single minded in focus, everything centering around the mastery of his art.

That is, until that fateful day.

Minho was practicing in his main studio, mirrors all around him so that he could analyze his own movements and perfect them as best he could. He was so engrossed that he didn’t notice one of the servants knocking lightly on the doorframe.

“Your highness?” the servant asked, trying to catch Minho’s attention. “There’s someone here to see you my lord. May I show them in?”

Minho looked up and rolled his eyes, turning away from the servant. “I’m busy. You have your instructions. If someone wishes to see me during practice, they can come back when I’m free. I’m not changing my schedule to accommodate anyone. Why on earth should I? I’m a prince after all.”

“My lord, you must see them!” The servant was getting more agitated, wringing his hands worriedly.

Fire flashed through Minho’s eyes. “Did you just imply that I am required to do something? Excuse me? Leave my sight right this instant, and if I see you again, you’ll regret it for the rest of your days.”

The servant bowed and backed away, cringing under the deadly glare Minho was directing at him, Minho turned back to his dance practice, stepping quickly into rhythm and letting the music float over him, carrying him with it.

Light footsteps sounded behind him.

“So, you really are as vain and horrid as they say you are,” a quiet voice mused from behind him. Minho whirled around, furious at being interrupted again.

“How dare you interrupt me?” he snarled at the black cloaked figure standing in front of him.

The figure laughed coldly. “How dare I? How dare you, Lee Minho? How dare you behave in such a manner to a witch with my power. Either you apologize right now, or regret it for the rest of your days”

Minho let out a scornful laugh. “Why would I, a prince, apologize to a stupid, ugly, pathetic old crone like you?”

And that was the last laugh that escaped his lips. The witch let out a snarl, smashing her stave against the stone floor of the castle. Curls of bright green magic spiraled through the air, filling the hall with the smell of acrid smoke.

“Your vanity has brought about your downfall young prince. I curse you to live as a creature befitting your ridiculous vanity—I curse you to be a dragon until you can learn the humility required to be human once more. You have until this flower dies to change your very being from the inside out, else you will be forced to take this form for eternity!” She slammed her stave against the ground three times, and a cloud of white vapor swirled around her.

When the vapor vanished, so had she. Only a pretty white iris lay in her wake.

Minho couldn’t concentrate on the woman’s disappearance however. Sharp pains suddenly wracked his body; the green curls of magic that had remained even after the witch disappeared wrapped themselves around him. He felt his limbs changing, his body growing longer and more lithe.

Then, his back began to burn. It burned as though someone had poured molten lava over it, scouring and puckering his skin even as he felt his shoulder blades growing longer and longer, until they became like a second pair of arms. He writhed in pain as his body twisted and morphed, until finally, blessedly, the world went black around him.

His final thought was only asking, begging, to know what kind of monster he had just become.

---

You pulled yourself up onto the kitchen counter, biting into an apple that you’d plucked from the tree outside. Today was your least favorite day of the month—departure day.

You and your brother Felix had been living together for many years in this town, studying dancing under a celebrated dance master who had moved to the country to establish his own school. The only real difficulty was in living so far away from your parents but having your brother with you helped deal with the loneliness.

That is, only when he was there. Which, incidentally, is what made this day so miserable. Felix would be leaving to go back home, while you remained to take care of your home alone—and while you took turns going back, the separation was never easy on whoever was left behind.

“Now remember, stay on the roads, and make sure you don’t wander! There are bandits and all sort of other dangers around here.” You instructed Felix.

He rolled his eyes as he pushed the last of his provisions into his bag. “I’m going to be fine you old worrywart. I’ll be back within the week, is there anything you want me to bring back?”

You thought for a second, mentally running through the list of items that you’d left at your parents’ home. “I think I left my favorite record at home, you know the one that we still haven’t come up with a choreography for? Bring it back with you, I’m sick of not being able to come up with something for it.”

“Anything else?” He pushed open the kitchen door to the yard, where the car was waiting.

“No, just hurry home soon would you?” Felix nodded and quickly started the car and waved to you from behind the wheel.

You waved back, ignoring the strange apprehensive feeling that kept fluttering in your stomach.

---

About a week later, Felix was driving as fast as he could in the pouring rain, trying to get home as soon as he could. The car had already made a few ominous noises, and he did not want to be caught outside in the storm, and that too on top of a mountain.

All around him, the wind shrieked through the trees lining the side of the road. Felix had even heard a few wolves howling wildly almost as though they were hunting for prey under the cover of the night.

His nerves were rising at every little sound that filled the small car’s cabin. He could hear every little creak of the straining engine, every whistle of the wind outside, every hair-raising, inexplicable noise that came through the windows and dove straight into his heart. The sooner I get out of this mess, the better.

Unfortunately, right as he had that thought, the car gave off a large splutter and died, smoke rising from underneath the hood. Felix groaned to himself, getting out of the car and over to the smoking hood.

He opened it, only to find more smoke and what looked like a battery that had shorted out from all the rain.

“Wonderful. This doesn’t look like I can fix it any time soon,” Felix grumbled as he went back to his seat and pulled out his bag. “Might as well try and see if there’s any caves or something nearby that I can shelter in.”

Right at that moment, a flash of lightning lit up the dusty country road. Felix glanced up and caught sight of a door cut into the side of the mountain he’d been driving up. He rushed towards it, disregarding the brambles that cut at his clothes and hands. Reaching the door, he pounded on it wildly, screaming for someone to open it.

No one responded. Felix’s cries grew more and more desperate in sound and he pounded a little harder.

And then, his fist caught on a hidden pressure plate in the door. It swung up without a warning, leaving Felix reeling and stumbling over himself as he entered the room behind the door.

That is, room was a bit of a misnomer. The area was enormous, with ceilings easily a hundred feet high and torches lining the walls wherever Felix looked. He shrugged off his soaked cloak and left it in a heap next to the door, moving closer to what appeared to be an enormous sunken fire pit in the center of the room.

Teeth chattering, he reached out towards the lightly glowing coals, trying to leech some semblance of warmth back into his fingers. Let me rest for a few minutes, then I can go back and try and get the car started again.

Those few minutes were enough though, and Felix’s eyes slowly began to droop shut, until he was fast asleep on the floor of the enormous hall.

---

“HOW DARE YOU WALTZ INTO MY CASTLE AND TREAT IT LIKE YOUR PERSONAL DRIP CATCHER!” A thundering roar shook the walls of the hall and Felix started awake, sitting up abruptly and almost hitting his head on something that had just appeared in front of him.

He blinked a few times, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes. “Wha- where am I?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes with one hand.

“You, pathetic little blob, are in my mountain castle. MY CASTLE!” The voice growled.

“I’m sorry, I only hid here to shelter from the rain. Please, forgive me for trespassing sir.” Felix doubted the apology would have any effect, yet he attempted it regardless.

“An apology is NOT enough. You dared enter; now you will never leave. Enjoy rotting here for the rest of your miserable life.” An enormous something came hurtling down towards Felix’s prone figure out of the middle of the air and scooped him up. Felix screamed at the sudden loss of solid ground underneath his feet. He hurtled through the air for a moment before crashing into a tiny nook about thirty feet in the air.

Felix figured he didn’t really have options aside from begging at this point. “Please, my family needs me! I can’t leave them alone! I beg of you sir, spare me and let me go.”

By now, the something that had scooped Felix up had gone back to the ground and was tapping the bag that he’d left near the fire pit. The contents of it soon spilled over the floor, and the something moved into the light.

Felix couldn’t stop the horrified gasp that escaped his lips as the light fell on his captor.

He was being held captive by a dragon.

A DRAGON. I’M DEAD. THERE IS NO WAY I’M EVER GOING TO ESCAPE. His breathing got faster, almost to the point of hyperventilation.

The dragon poked gingerly at the pile of items that Felix’s bag had contained. One in particular caught his eye- the record _____ had requested.

“You have a set of records but no instruments, only extra clothing and foot wraps. Are you a dancer?” The dragon’s voice had changed slightly in timber, an almost longing note lacing the edge of his question.

Felix gulped in a breath and replied in the affirmative. The dragon hummed thoughtfully, an utterly terrifying noise that shook the walls of the room slightly.

“I think I’ll keep this in my personal collection.” He swiped the record up and gingerly clutched it in one paw. Slowly, the dragon’s enormous wings spread, and he made to loft himself off the ground and back into whatever passages he may have been hiding in before.

Now or never Felix. You can’t let him take it. “Wait! That’s not yours! You can’t have it!”

The dragon cackled wildly. “Well, if the owner comes, we can discuss what happens with both you and your record. And you. It’s about time I had a dancer to perform my dances for me.”

And with that ominous statement the dragon lofted himself into the air, leaving gusts of wind in his wake that chilled Felix to the bone in his still damp clothing.

I hope _____ doesn’t come looking for me.

---

You frowned at the calendar. Felix was supposed to have returned two days previously, and he’d apparently left your parents’ home on time. Yet there was absolutely no sign of him anywhere, and none of the travelers from that direction recalled passing a boy around his age.

Needless to say, you were out of your mind with worry.

He was your younger brother, your responsibility, and you’d let him go off on his own. If I’d been with him, he might not have gotten lost. What if someone kidnapped him, or he got stabbed and left on the side of the road? What if he got enchanted by some witch? What if he-

You shook your head violently, trying to get the horrible thought out of your mind. Felix is fine, and I am going to go find him.

Mind made up, you quickly threw together some spare clothes, food, and money into a bag. Now that you had a plan, you felt slightly lighter, like someone had relieved the pressure weighing down on you. You quickly stuffed your feet into your boots and ran out the door, bag slung over one shoulder.

Hopefully the dance teacher will let me borrow his car if I say it’s because Felix is missing.

You stalked through the outskirts of town, walking quickly to avoid the somewhat sleazy gazes of the young men loitering in the alleys. It was the fastest route to the heart of town; a detour would only slow you down.

“Hey babe, how about you stop walking so fast? We’re just looking?” One of them called out. Another one whistled as he looked you over, eyes lingering inappropriately.

You ignored them, pulling your bag closer to yourself and walking faster, an angry glare painting your face. If those idiots even breathe on me I will scream bloody murder and claw their eyes out.

“Awww, don’t scowl like that babe, your mouth looks so pretty when you aren’t frowning.” The first one called after you as you stormed out of the alley onto the main road.

People. Finally.

You quickly knocked on the door of the studio, hoping that you wouldn’t be stuck outside for long. Within a few seconds the door swung open.

“____? Is everything alright?” your teacher asked, a worried expression clouding his face.

“I’m fine sir, I just… Felix is missing and he took our car. Is there any way I can borrow your car to go look for him?” The man’s face softened, and he nodded.

“I’d offer you tea or something but I’m guessing you want to leave immediately?” You nodded mutely. “Come inside, I’ll get you the keys and you can leave from the back entrance.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure. I just hope you find him safe and sound.” Me too.

Five minutes later you were cruising along the main road, eyes laser focused on the pavement in front of you.

---

Three hours later, your hands were beginning to hurt from how tightly you were clutching the steering wheel and you were almost sure that the second you took your foot off the accelerator it would cramp up. Pushing onwards with only willpower and desperation to fuel you, you began your steady descent down the mountain road.

You were on your way down the hill when you saw it. Sure enough, there was Felix’s car, parked at an angle to the road.

And it was empty.

You quickly pulled over and ran over to the car, searching wildly for any sign of Felix. Something, anything to tell you that he was still alive and not lying dead somewhere after rolling down the mountain side.

As you were examining the driver’s seat, you happened to glance up. The light was striking the side of the mountain at an odd angle, and you could almost swear there was a door cut into the rock with a path leading away from the door towards it.

“I wonder…” you grabbed your bag from the car and sling it over one shoulder, making your way up the path to the door. You scrabbled around on the smooth surface until your fingers caught on a latch and the door swung open.

A dark, empty space loomed in front of you, completely devoid of any light. You took a deep breath, and then stepped inside.

This is for Felix.

Almost immediately the door closed behind you, leaving you trapped in the darkness. The world was pitch black around you, making it seem like someone had trapped you deep underground.

The panic rose in your throat. Walls seemed to close in around you. A ringing began to sound in your ears. You’d never been stuck somewhere so dark before. Somewhere so utterly terrifying.

I’m going to die here, and no one will ever find me.

Suddenly, a crevice that spiraled all the way around the hall sparked to life, flames flickering and lighting the enormous hall in front of you. You immediately felt your breathing ease and the tension seep from your limbs.

And then, you saw the tiny, curled up figure tucked inside a niche on the other side of the hall. Bars covered the niche’s entrance, and all around you the walls loomed up in sheer black darkness.

“Felix!” you yelled, voice cracking in desperation. A narrow ledge connected the two of you and you clutched your way along the stone wall towards him, ignoring the steep drop below you. “Felix!”

He sat up, rubbing the sleep from tear encrusted eyes. “____?” You can’t be here, you have to leave!”

“I’m not leaving here without you! Do you have even the slightest idea how worried I’ve been? I was going mad waiting for you to come home. Good thing I did come, now we can get out.” You shook the bars roughly, trying to get them to swing open somehow. Come on, come on, open damn it! I can’t leave him.

Felix shook his head, pushing you away roughly. “Get out of here, before the dragon comes back. Please, I’d never forgive myself if you got stuck here with me. Tell Mom and Dad I love them, yeah? I’ll miss you.”

A sob escaped your throat as you turned to go back to the door. “I’ll get you out of this Lix, I promise.” Even as you spoke, an odd sense of foreboding filled your very soul. Why does it feel like I’ll never see him again?

“Just GO!” You shuffled along the ledge back to the door.

Your fingers scraped the smooth stone, trying to find the latch that would open the door once more from the inside. After a minute or so of frantic searching, your fingernail caught on a small latch.

And then, just as you were about to slip out the door, a thundering roar that shook you to your very bones filled the room.

“How dare you enter my home? Two intruders in three days, how lucky for me. Is this the one you begged me to spare?”

Wind rushed through the room. A sharp clicking, like metal clanking on stone floors, scraped your ears.

“Run _____!”

“Not so fast.” A paw reached out of nowhere and clamped down on your shoulder, before the paw’s owner took off. The floor dropped away beneath your feet, leaving only empty air below you.

“Shut up.” The voice said, setting you down next to the bars in front of Felix’s cage. “Now stay still. You have a decision to make.”

You couldn’t stop trembling. Every part of you shook with fear at what the unknown thing that had grabbed you would do to you.

Before you had a chance to blink and let your eyes get adjusted to the light, Felix was standing beside you. Chains were wrapped around his hands and feet, with another length holding him in place so that he couldn’t run to you no matter how hard he tried.

Taking matters into your own hands, you ran over to him, paying no heed to the rocky floor that threatened to trip you up. You pulled at the chains keeping him in place, but they wouldn’t budge.

A cold voice cut through the air, making your hair stand on end. “You have a choice now… run for your life and leave your brother behind with me…” A chuckle ensued as whoever the unknown speaker was saw your determined expression.

There is no way I’m leaving Felix here.

“Or…” the sly pauses the voice was making were just making you angry now.

“Spit it out!” you yelled into the darkness around you.

“You could take his place. I will let your brother go if you agree to stay with me for the rest of your life, in this place.”

All you could hear now was your own heartbeat rushing in your ears, faster and faster. What do I do? Take his place? Let him go.

You thought back to your home, to what awaited both of you. Felix had so much left he wanted to accomplish, so much potential that would be lost if he stayed behind.

I’m sorry Mom, Dad. This is for him.

“I’ll take his place.”

“No! _____, you can’t do this, I won’t let you! You’re insane if you think I can leave you here to pay for my curiosity.”

“Felix, this is my decision.” A small sparkling key came flying through the air and you caught it.

The voice spoke once more. “Unlock his chains and cuff yourself.”

You did as told, fingers shaking so hard you could barely hold the keys. You couldn’t meet Felix’s tear-filled eyes as you pulled the shackles off his wrists and tightened them around your own.

“I love you Felix, I love you and Mom, and Dad, and I want you to do everything you—”

The dark figure swooped down and grabbed Felix, carrying him up into the air and out of the light from the nearby torches.

The last sound you heard from your brother was his anguished scream as the little door in the side of the mountain closed, leaving you alone. The sound shattered you from within, breaking whatever reserve of strength that had held you upright while your brother was still there.

At least Felix is safe, you tried to reassure yourself. At least it’s me trapped here and not him.

It hit you then that you really were trapped.

With only the monster for company.

At long last, the figure you’d seen swooping around came into full view.

Glittering dark green scales covered a lithe, muscular body. Spines that glowed with some sort of inner fire lined his back and neck, sharp as knives. The creature’s front paws had long claws over six inches long. Along his back you could make out folds of green leather, which had to be wings. A barbed tail curled around him almost like a cat’s would, swishing back and forth as the dragon, for that was what stood before you, breathed in and out. Steam rose from his nostrils, and rich dark eyes twinkled in the light of the torches.

Those eyes looked almost human in nature. Warm and mischievous rather than cold and unyieldingly cruel the way you’d expected.

“Well? Don’t just stand there like an idiot. Do you want to stay in that cell where your brother was?” The dragon’s voice was surprisingly soft given his horrifying appearance. It was loud and deep, yes, but it had a lyrical quality to it that contradicted the sharp fangs that were just visible in the corners of his mouth.

“Answer me! Do you have a name?”

“____.” You hid the waver threatening to make itself known. “I want to leave this hellhole of a cavern and get back to daylight.”

“Daylight?” the dragon mocked. “You think you deserve to see daylight, little one? After sneaking into my castle? You’re staying right here, my preciousssss.”

The dragon’s hiss sent shivers up your spine. Even his voice is terrifying. It’s like ice and poison and corrosive acid all at once—

“Now then, _____. Do you want to stay in the cell, or are you going to cooperate and let me take you to your new room?”

“Do I even have a choice?” Doubt it. He clearly has his own ideas over what to do with me.

“Cell it is then.” You cringed away as the dragon’s cruel claws came close to your shoulder.

“Room, please!” I can’t handle being carried by those daggers one more time.

“So, you can be reasonable. What a surprise. Come.” The dragon clicked down a hallway that had yet gone unnoticed by you in the corner of the large cavern. You followed, unsure as to how to respond to the twelve-foot-long dragon. Yet another thing no one ever told me how to deal with. I just hope Felix is safe.

Three corridors, two sets of double doors, and four large halls later, the dragon pushed open a large gilt door.

“This is your room. You will be joining me for dinner in the dining room in one hour.” He spoke curtly, with a careless, disdainful glance at you.

“What if I choose not to?” Might as well test my boundaries.

“That was an order, not a request.”

And with those words, the dragon turned, tail whipping through the air behind him and almost hitting you in the face. With no other alternative, you entered the room, slamming the door shut behind you with a clang that echoed through the hollowed-out mountain castle.

With little else to do, you threw yourself onto the bed and began to sob. You were trapped, in the middle of nowhere, with only a monstrous dragon for company. And even the finery around you couldn’t disguise the fact that you were a prisoner, in a gilded cage.

Golden bars were still bars after all.

---

Minho clicked down the halls back to wing where his old rooms used to be. He’d long since outgrown the bed he’d occupied as a child; now he simply had knocked down half the walls and turned the space into a very messy nest, with bundles of items lying all over the place.

Just because his claws couldn’t wrap the fabric properly didn’t mean he couldn’t order the servants to do it for him.

Speaking of servants, where were they? He mused as he settled down into the nest of soft blankets. Intimidating people really was a full-time job.

His eyes began to droop slowly shut, only to slam open as a small candlestick began jumping up and down on top of his scaled back.

“Prince Minho! Wake up! Who’s the person in the guest wing? Is it the one? Will they break the curse? Are they cute?”

Minho rolled onto his other side, flicking his wing to try and get him off. “Go away Jisung. Make sure ____ is down for dinner on time and tell Chan he has to make sure dinner tastes good.”

“Ooooh, trying to impress ____? Your new consort has a pretty name. You better behave well with them. No temper tantrums, and woo them properly, that’s the best way to get them to break the curse.”

“Would you shut up? I need a nap.” Jisung had veered uncomfortably close to the truth. Minho did hope that ____ would be the one to break the curse, but he also didn’t want to hope.

If he had hope, the chances of being hurt when he was trapped as a dragon forever would only be more painful.

As it is, he only had about half a year left before the curse became permanent.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice Jisung leaving the room and going to meet Changbin outside.

“Is he alright?” Changbin asked, hands whirring worriedly on his face.

“I don’t know Binnie-hyung. I don’t know. Let’s just get things together and try and welcome our guest. It’s all we can do it this point.

---

You looked up at the knock that reverberated throughout your new room.

“Go. Away. I don’t want to see your scaly face,” you hissed at the door.

“It’s dinner time. Your presence is required.”

“Fuck off!” Something inside you snapped. “Do you think I’m going to sit and politely eat opposite the dragon that kidnapped my brother and blackmailed me?”

A loud huff came from the other side of the door. “If you don’t come and eat with me, you won’t be eating at all.”

“Good riddance! I don’t particularly feel hungry after being manhandled anyway!” You yelled back, before picking up a large, heavy looking hair brush and flinging it at the door. “You can bother all you want, I’m not coming out.”

“Then rot!” The dragon stomped away, his heavy footsteps clanking on the ground heavily.

You let out a heavy breath, feeling the tears begin to well up once more. You hadn’t been lying when you said you weren’t hungry. Right now, the only feeling in your stomach was one of nausea and horror, horror at what you were probably going to face.

Who knows what the dragon’s going to do to me when I refuse to leave at his order?”

Exhausted, miserable, nauseous, and ready to collapse, you curled into a tiny little ball on the surprisingly soft bed. You didn’t have much else to do, might as well sleep.

You’d need all your energy to try to escape later on.

---

Your eyelids fluttered open after some time, feeling crusty and dry after your sobbing. You rubbed them carelessly, remembering the warnings your mother had always given you about your eyelashes falling out if you rubbed your eyes.

If I have a chance to listen to Mom nag me ever again, I’ll be the happiest person on earth.

You took the silence as an opportunity to explore your new room. A few shelves lined one wall, with various knick-knacks and decorations filling the space. Sheer curtains led outside to a window, surprising seeing as you had entered a mountain. Maybe it opens onto the valley inside. Like a castle courtyard, only the mountain and cliffs are the castle themselves.

A set of pretty wall hangings finished the other side of the room, along with a screen and a large wardrobe which seemed to be letting out a few large snores every now and then. At this point though, after seeing a dragon speak, not much would be startling you.

You went over to the wardrobe and poked it. It jolted awake with a shudder, blinking open carved eyes near the door.

“Oh, hello! You must be _____, the master sent me up to see to you. I’m Hyunjin, your new helper! We should get you into some night clothes so you can sleep, yes?”

You frowned. “I don’t want to go back to sleep. I’m going to explore and find the kitchen.”

The wardrobe—Hyunjin—opened his mouth to speak again, but you forestalled him by wrapping your cloak more tightly around you.

“Do me a favor and don’t tell the dragon?” You called as you slipped out the door. Hyunjin just stood there, unmoving in his shock.

Slowly, a little smile spread over his face. Maybe some challenges were just what the master needed to bring some light back into his life and spice it up a little.

Maybe Jisung and Changbin were right. Maybe you would be their salvation.

After all, you simply had to fall in love with a dragon. How hard could it really be to orchestrate that?

---

The answer, as Hyunjin, Jisung, Changbin, and the other plotters were soon to discover, was that it was really quite difficult to orchestrate two people’s falling in love with each other. Especially when one of those individuals was a cantankerous dragon who took no pleasure in anything other than brooding, and the other was an angry kidnappee who kept breaking things and sneaking around the passages to elicit a reaction from Minho.

Suffice it to say, things were not going well by any means.

And they were just about to get worse.

It was the middle of the night, and you’d dragged yourself out of bed, hoping that the late hour would ensure you wouldn’t be discovered. Lighting only a small candle, you slowly crept down the passageways back to the large cavern where you’d first met the dragon.

Tonight was the night you got out of this weird castle-cave-hollow-mountain-thing.

You tiptoed along, pausing at every slight noise you heard. Shivers ran up your spine and the little hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You had the distinct feeling that someone was following you, and yet when you turned your head, there was no one there.

Nervously toying with your fingers, you finally came up on the enormous cavern that you’d entered weeks ago. Slowly, you made your way up a narrow ledge to where the bars that had once imprisoned Felix now lay.

You tore your eyes away and forced yourself to look at the other walls, scanning for the slight crack that had unlocked the little door earlier. Fingers scrabbling against the smooth stone, you searched silently, hoping against hope that you’d find the door again.

And then, your fingernail caught on something.

Tamping down a squeal of excitement, you placed the candle on a nearby ledge, letting to soft light wash over your hands as they searched for the hidden catch within the crack. Within a few moments you’d found it and clicked it open once more. The door swung open, revealing a stormy night.

You tightened your hands into fists. I’ve come this far, no turning back now. You shoved the door open and slipped out the door, hiding your nose in your sleeve to protect it from the biting wind. You struggled down the path, steep as it was, until you came up on the road below.

Disaster struck.

Suddenly the air was filled with the sound of howling.

Only this time it wasn’t the wind.

This time, it was wolves.

Some sixth sense told you to duck, and not a second too soon. A large gray wolf sailed over your head, fangs snapping exactly where your head had been not a moment ago.

A scream tore itself from your lips. You curled tighter in on yourself, surrounded on all sides by slobbering, slavering wolves who regarded you with a cruel yellow light in their eyes.

I’m going to die here. I’m never going to see my family again, or breathe in the fresh morning air, or hear the applause after a performance. I’m never going to—

A roar split the air, and then beautiful emerald fire burned in a ring around you. The dragon swooped down from the sky and swiped angrily at the wolves, ignoring the snarling, snapping fangs and claws that slashed his scales away. He curled around your prone form, swiping away a wolf approaching from behind with one sweep of his tail.

“Get. On.” You did as told, too shocked to respond in any other way. Dying at the claws of your scaly savior would probably be less painful than being eaten by a bunch of wolves.

One of the wolves leaped into the air as the dragon took off and sank his teeth into the dragon’s left foreleg. You could feel him shudder in pain underneath you, but he shook it off, flapping his leathery wings and making his way back to the mountain-castle.

Huh. From this height you can see the towers and ramparts that the ivy grew over and hid. It’s actually a really beautiful structure. Clearly, the shock was making you a little loopy as well.

The dragon sank down in a courtyard with high walls all around it, at the very tip of the mountain. You slid off his back, preparing to complain about the cold ride and the fact that he still wasn’t planning on letting you go even though it was completely useless to keep you trapped there!

Then you saw the blood, surprisingly red and warm, welling up on his paw.

He did save my life… I guess I owe it to him.

You immediately knelt next to him and pulled the bleeding paw into your lap. Grabbing the corner of your cloak, you wiped it gently, trying to see how deeply the wolf’s teeth had pierced his skin.

Behind you, a little crowd was gathering. The servants were all staring as you tried to stem the bleeding.

“Jisung, could you get me some hot water? And maybe some towels, and some alcohol for cleaning this?” you asked, not taking your eyes off the dragon. If they’re going to stare, might as well be useful for a change.

“Of course, we’ll get them to you right away. Changbin come on!” the little candlestick hissed, yanking Changbin behind him. They soon returned with the items you had asked for and left without another word.

You finished wrapping the bandages rather haphazardly around the dragon’s paw. He was more awake now, staring at you with those rich green eyes and making you feel like you could never hide a single secret from him.

Stupid dragon. Dying might have been better anyways. It’s not like I even know his name.

“Get inside. Do you have a bedroom?” you asked, tugging the paw that had been in your lap towards the wall.

“Down the west hallway. First door,” he rumbled, rising from his prone position and entering one of the corridors. You followed, unsure as to where in the castle you actually were.

The dragon nosed open one of the numerous doors lining that hallway and slipped inside. The room was large—it had to be to hold someone so large—and it had pretty green and gold wallpaper covering the walls. A large pit lined with pillows stood in the center of the room, and the dragon fell into this now, cushioning his head on one of them.

“Thank you for saving me.” Some unknown force compelled you to speak. “I owe you my life… I know it doesn’t mean much but I am grateful Mister Dragon.”

“It’s Lee Know.” The dragon’s voice was so quiet you barely heard it.

“Lee Know? Like… the verb?”

The dragon—Lee Know—simply blinked and closed his eyes. You shrugged and turned away as well, ready to go back to your own rooms… if you could even find them.

Maybe escaping could wait until tomorrow night, when you were a little less tired.

---

“Are you absolutely sure about this? You don’t let anyone into your collection!” Changbin asked worriedly as he toddled as fast as he could to keep up with Minho.

“They’re just sitting there and gathering dust. _____ likes music and dancing, almost as much as I—well at least they’ll be used this way.”

“If you say so…” Changbin trailed off. “When she messed up anything and gets all cross don’t come crying to me.”

“Don’t you have clock-servant things to do?” Minho hissed, flicking Changbin with his tail. “Go away.”

Changbin snickered to himself as he made his way down to the kitchen. The others would want to hear this.

Meanwhile, Minho came up to the door to your bedroom and tapped lightly against it with one claw. He waited for a moment, unsure as to what your response would be.

To his surprise, you smiled happily at him and came out into the hallway as well. “It’s really lovely outside today isn’t it?” you asked, closing your door behind you. “Is your paw doing better?”

Minho was quite taken aback. “It’s—it’s doing a lot better thanks. I… I was wondering if maybe… you’d be interested in something to distract you, so you don’t have to spend all your time here bored.”

“Finally! I thought I’d go mad from just doing nothing! Where are we going?”

A small smile almost appeared on Minho’s face. “It’s a surprise. Close your eyes.”

You shrugged and did as told. If he’d wanted to kill you, he’d probably have done it by this point, you mused as you placed one hand on his neck and let him guide you through the maze of hallways.

“You can open your eyes now.” Minho’s voice broke into your thoughts.

Your eyelids fluttered open and you let out an involuntary gasp.

The room was full of shelves of records and sheet music. A large piano stood in one corner of the room, while the other side had a polished floor and long mirrors covering the walls. The room looked freshly cleaned, as though it had just been dusted the night before.

“Do you like it?” Lee Know asked, tail swishing nervously back and forth.

You threw your arms around his neck in a quick hug before turning to the shelves. “You have so much music in here, it’s ridiculous! I didn’t know so many pieces were available over here.”

“It’s yours.”

“What?” You couldn’t possibly have heard him right.

“I—I don’t have any use for them. Once, I might have, but now? It’s better that you have them.”

You stood there, gobsmacked, as he turned and left the room.

What was it about that dragon that kept surprising you?

---

A few months or so had passed since your failed escape attempt and Lee Know’s subsequent gift of the dance studio and music.

You were… strangely enough… almost happy. The only thing that kept ruining things for you was your constant worry for Felix. Already regarded as somewhat… odd… by the other villagers, you hoped he was alright.

Today however, was a special occasion. You’d spent ages coercing the dragon into trying to do a dance with you, even if it was just swaying in time to the music, and yet he had refused every time. He would spend hours watching you play or dance and never say a word, just looking mournfully at you with those sad green eyes.

Something about his eyes reminded you of royalty.

It was probably nothing.

But at any rate, today was the day you were going to manage it. You’d sent Jeongin along to convince him to come to the studio (no one could ever say no to the little teacup) and you had everything set up.

And then, the door opened, and the dragon entered.

“Excellent. You’re here! Now come on, today’s the day you get over your fears and you start dancing. It’s not hard, anyone can learn how to do it!” You pulled him over by the paw. “Now then, let’s get started. Here’s how you do a basic box step.”

“____, I’m not dancing.”

You turned to him and stared directly into his eyes. Eyes that shone like stars.

“You are. And that’s final. You spend all your time moping anyways, it’s about time you do something useful for a change.”

He rolled his eyes but followed, unable to say no.

“Hit it Jisung!” you called out, and the candlestick moved the needle of the record player into position. The soft strains of music filled the room, lifting you up a little almost involuntarily.

There was something about dancing that just felt… freeing.

“Okay, now then, one step forward, to the side…” you frowned a little. “You could look a little happier about it you know.”

“_____. I’m a dragon. We. Don’t. Dance.”

“Says who!” you placed your hands on your hips. “New thing. Let’s just put on music and you just… move in time to it.”

“____” he whined. There was absolutely nothing he could do as you switched out the records and put on one of your favorite pieces.

“Now close your eyes, let the music wash over you, and just move. Don’t think.”

Minho did as told.

And before he knew it, he could feel his limbs moving in time to the music again. The skill he’d lost as a child slowly came flooding back and even in his dragon body the rhythm and elegance were clearly noticeable.

He’s definitely trained. He has to be. Lee Know, who are you? You wondered as you watched.

A light push on the back of your knees sent you stumbling towards him.

“Join in ____!” Jeongin giggled from where he was pressed against Woojin’s side. The teapot turned to shush him, but the teacup simply giggled and turned back to watch.

You slowly stepped towards the dragon, analyzing his steps to see where you should join in. Almost involuntarily you felt yourself catching the tune and moving as well, weaving towards Lee Know and then moving with him in perfect synchronicity.

You were spinning in and out of each other’s paths, comets in orbit, never crashing. Simply spinning, spinning, falling, staring at those green eyes.

And then, the record stopped playing.

“Bravo!” Woojin let out a puff of steam. “That was amazing you two!”

You blushed heavily, but Minho’s reaction was far more telling. He simply turned and left the room, not even glancing back.

---

“I’m doing it and you can’t stop me!”

“Well we can’t but Chan and Woojin can!” Changbin yelled, jumping up and down on Minho’s back. “You can’t let your only chance at a normal life walk right out of here!”

“I also can’t keep _____ captive forever. They don’t deserve this life. I’m giving them the mirror and the ring.”

“On your own head be it!” The door slammed shut as Changbin stomped down the hallway.

Minho stroked a claw against the glass case that held the witch’s iris. The flower was dying, and he could feel his own strength deteriorating with it.

It was for the best.

---

You woke up to sunshine streaming into your window and warming your face as you lay in bed lazily. Something tells me today is a good day.

As you looked around, you noticed a small tray with two items resting on it sitting on the front of your dresser. You swung your legs out from under the covers and padded over, picking up the note that lay with it.

Put on the ring and say the name of the person you wish to be with three times, and you shall be with them. Say the name of the person you wish to see three times and blow lightly on the surface of this mirror, and you shall see them.

With these, I hope you always live happily.

Your freedom is yours, your life your own.

Thank you for giving me music again.

Prince Lee Minho, or as you better know me, the cursed dragon Lee Know

You sat down in shock, wondering if this was all simply a dream. My dragon was a prince? He gave me magical items that would get me home? What do I do?

Putting on the ring and slipping the mirror into your pocket, you whispered Felix’s name three times. A gust of wind swept around you and you closed your eyes tightly against the chill.

And when you opened them, you were home again.

And you could hear screaming in the yard outside.

“I’m not crazy! _____ has been captured by a dragon! Why won’t you people listen to me?” Felix yelled, fighting against the two men holding him steady.

I knew he needed me. I knew they would hurt him. Time to see if this mirror works.

You pulled it out and whispered “Lee Know” three times before blowing on it.

Nothing happened.

“Maybe you need to say Lee Minho,” came the piping voice of Jeongin from inside your pocket. You gasped and reached inside, pulling him out and setting him in front of you.

“How did you get here?”

“I snuck in when Prince Minho left the tray, and then I leapt into your pocket while you were reading. I wanted to see the world! Woojin never lets me do anything fun.” The little teacup pouted adorably.

“Well, first things first, let’s get my brother out of there. Show me Lee Minho!”

This time, the mirror worked as said.

Minho’s dejected face and sharp claws came slowly into focus, and you grinned to yourself. Perfect.

“Will you all shut up!” You yelled, pushing the door of your cottage open and holding up the mirror. “Felix is telling the truth! There is a dragon in the mountain, but he isn’t evil. He’s kind and sweet, and he’s the one who let me go!”

You waved the mirror around, showing everyone the image inside it.

And then, the mirror let out a howl. Minho appeared to be screaming in agony of some kind, barely able to stand as the pain wracked his body.

He sounds like he’s being tortured. What could have happened in just a few hours?

“The dragon!” “He’s evil!” “Look at him, screaming for blood!” “He must have bewitched these two!” “We have to kill him, to protect our children!” “To reclaim the mountain!” “Kill the dragon!”

“KILL THE DRAGON!” The crowd’s chant rose into a roar, and the mob shoved you and Felix inside your cottage before barring the door.

“We’ll deal with you later,” one of the younger men hissed, picking up a pitchfork.

Felix whirled to face you. “What do you mean, he’s kind and sweet? He was ready to imprison us!”

“Felix, you don’t understand!”

“Well, make me understand!”

You began relating the whole sorry tale. Your attempted escape, his gifts, the way he’d simply let you go at the end. As you spoke, Felix’s eyes softened.

“Maybe he isn’t so bad. But why is he screaming all of a sudden?”

Jeongin piped up from your pocket. “Woojin said Prince Minho was cursed. And that he had to get someone to fall in love with him, or else he’d DIE. Do you think he’s dying ____?”

You exchanged a look with Felix. He knew you better than anyone; he could tell what you weren’t saying.

“Fine. I’m coming with you though.” He reached out and took your hand, and you whispered Minho’s name to the ring.

A gust of wind later, and you were standing in your bedroom again.

“Wow, this is fancy!” Felix exclaimed, moving over to the window. “How come you got a cool room and I got a cell?”

“You were the one who got captured, dork.”

“Carry on.”

“We need to find him, the ring only brought me back here. I don’t know where he could be!” You slumped into your chair, head in your hands.

“I’ll go tell the others to prepare for an invasion!” Jeongin jumped down from your pocket and toddled outside. “Maybe Jisung or Changbin knows what to do!”

You turned to Felix. “Let’s start looking then.”

The castle was unreasonably enormous. Every other corridor seemed to branch off and leave more doors to be searched. Jeongin found you again with the others in tow, and upon further questioning it turned out that they too didn’t know where Minho was.

Hours had passed in vain, searching for the dragon of the castle, when a large thump sounded against the walls, shaking them.

“They’re breaking down the door!” Jisung yelled. “Come on, we’re going to hold them off. ____, it’s up to you to find the prince.”

You nodded and went the opposite direction. The flower… the image in the mirror… maybe he’s in the west wing? Or the tower? We hadn’t gotten there yet.

Taking the stairs two at a time, you clambered up towards the tower. Your breathing came heavily, forcing you to slow down if only to be able to breathe.

Outside the highest window, you could just make out the prone figure of the dragon lying curled up on the balcony. His head and arm lolled off one end, limp and lifeless.

“Minho! NO!” The scream was torn from your lips as you sank down next to him, pulling his head into your lap. “Please, wake up! You have to wake up!”

Minho’s eyes fluttered open, the emerald flames that had always sparkled within them almost dead.

“I’m done for _____. I love you you know. And if you love someone, let them go.”

Tears you hadn’t even noticed dripped onto his face.

“So I let you go.”

And then, the spear came sailing out of nowhere, and lodged itself in his heart, slipping underneath his arm. Even the balcony hadn’t protected him against the force of the blow.

A little puff of steam rose from his nostrils, and then you could feel Minho’s steady heartbeat fade away.

Sobs spilled out of you uncontrollably. “I can’t do this Minho. I love you too! Only I’m not going to let you go.”

And then, green curls of magic seemed to float up around him.

The swirls of smoke curled around the dragon, pulling his head off your lap and into the air above the tower. Below you the mob of villagers seemed to suddenly calm themselves, no longer in a murderous frenzy.

The air exploded with bright green light, and you flinched away involuntarily. What is going on?

And when you opened your eyes, a dragon no longer lay in your lap.

No.

The figure in your lap was a prince, wearing a simple green tunic and black pants. An emerald and silver crown adorned his head; thin green leather boots graced his feet.

And then, he met your eyes.

A tiny gasp escaped your lips. His eyes weren’t the emerald of the dragon you’d grown so used to seeing. They were warm brown, the color of chocolate, but the stars that had lain dormant in them before now sparkled in full glory.

“Well, ____, you can’t take it back now. You love me hmmm?” A lilting laugh escaped the prince as he sat up. “You broke the curse.”

“I might have done it sooner if you hadn’t been so rude!” You quipped, the reaction almost a reflex now from the hours spent bantering with him.

“You cured me of that too I guess.” He lowered his face a little closer to yours, and your eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his lips to your cheek gently. “I owe you my life, my love.”

You sat there, dumbfounded as Minho laughed a little at you again. He pressed another little kiss to your nose. “You fell in love with dragon me… I wonder how you’ll handle the craziness that is human me?”

Something inside you told you that it would be just fine.

Absolutely perfect in fact.

Anyone who could learn to love a dragon would probably have no issues dealing with a human. Even if he was a prince.

And so, our little ensemble lived happily ever after.

---

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theskyrimlibrary · 4 years

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2920, Last Seed, v8

Last Seed Book Eight of 2920 The Last Year of the First Era by Carlovac Townway

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1 Last Seed, 2920 Mournhold, Morrowind They were gathered in the Duke’s courtyard at twilight, enjoying the smell and warmth of a fire of dry branches and bittergreen leaves. Tiny embers flew into the sky, hanging for a few moments before vanishing.

“I was rash,” agreed the Duke, soberly. “But Lorkhan had his laugh, and all is well. The Morag Tong will not assassinate the Emperor now that my payment to them is at the bottom of the Inner Sea. I thought you had made some sort of a truce with the Daedra princess.”

“What your sailors called a daedra may not have been one,” said Sotha Sil. “Perhaps it was a rogue battlemage or even a lightning bolt that destroyed your ship.”

“The Prince and the Emperor are en route to take possession of Ald Lambasi as our truce agreed. It is certainly typical of the Cyrodiil to assume that their concessions are negotiable, while ours are not,” Vivec pulled out a map. “We can meet them here, in this village to the north-west of Ald Lambasi, Fervinthil.”

“But will we meet them to talk,” ask Almalexia. “Or to make war?”

No one had an answer to that.

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15 Last Seed, 2920 Fervinthil, Morrowind

A late summer squall blew through the small village, darkening the sky except for flashing of lightning which leapt from cloud to cloud like acrobats. Water rushed down the narrow streets ankle-deep, and the Prince had to shout to be heard by his captains but a few feet away from him.

“There’s an inn up ahead! We’ll wait there for the storm to pass before pressing on to Ald Lambasi!”

The inn was warm and dry, and bustling with business. Barmaids were rushing back and forth, bringing greef and wine to a back room, evidently excited about a famous visitor. Someone who was attracting more attention than the mere heir to the Empire of Tamriel.

Amused, Juilek watched them run until he overheard the name of “Vivec.”

“My lord Vivec,” he said, bursting into the back room. “You must believe me, I knew nothing about the attack on Black Gate until after it happened. We will, of course, be returning it to your care forthwith. I wrote you a letter to that effect at your palace in Balmora, but obviously you’re not there,” he paused, taking in the many new faces in the room. “I’m sorry, let me introduce myself. I’m Juilek Cyrodiil.”

“My name is Almalexia,” said the most beautiful woman the Prince had ever seen. “Won’t you join us?”

“Sotha Sil,” said a serious-looking Dunmer in a white cloak, shaking the Prince’s hand and showing him to a seat.

“Indoril Brindisi Dorom, Duke-Prince of Mournhold,” said the massively-built man next to him as he sat down.

“I recognize that the events of the last month suggest, at best, that the Imperial Army is not under my control,” said the Prince after ordering some wine. “This is true. The army is my father’s.”

“I understood that the Emperor was going to be coming to Ald Lambasi as well,” said Almalexia.

“Officially, he is,” said the Prince cautiously. “Unofficially, he’s still back in the Imperial City. He’s met with an unfortunate accident.”

Vivec glanced the Duke quickly before looking at the Prince: “An accident?”

“He’s fine,” said the Prince quickly. “He’ll live, but it looks like he’ll lose an eye. It was an altercation that has nothing to do with the war. The only good news is that while he recovers, I have the use of his seal. Any agreement we make here and now will be binding to the Empire, both in my father’s reign and mine.”

“Then let’s start agreeing,” smiled Almalexia.

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16 Last Seed, 2920 Wroth Naga, Cyrodiil

The tiny hamlet of Wroth Naga greeted Cassyr with its colorful houses perched on a promontory overlooking the stretch of the Wrothgarian mountain plain and High Rock beyond. Had he been in a better mood, the sight would have been breathtaking. As it was, he could only think that in practical terms, a small village like this would have meager provisions for himself and his horse.

He rode down into the main square, where an inn called the Eagle’s Cry stood. Directing the stable boy to house and feed his horse, Cassyr walked into the inn and was surprised by its ambience. A minstrel he had heard play once in Gilderdale was performing a jaunty old tune to the clapping of the mountain men. Such forced merriment was not what Cassyr wanted at that moment. A glum Dunmer woman was seated at the only table far from the noise, so he took his drink there and sat down without invitation. It was only when he did so that he noticed that she was holding a newborn baby.

“I’ve just come from Morrowind,” he said rather awkwardly, lowering his voice. “I’ve been fighting for Vivec and the Duke of Mournhold against the Imperial army. A traitor to my people, I guess you’d call me.”

“I am also a traitor to my people,” said the woman, holding up her hand which was scarred with a branded symbol. “It means that I can never go back to my homeland.”

“Well, you’re not thinking of staying here, are you?” laughed Cassyr. “It’s certainly quaint, but some wintertide, there’s going to be snow up to your eyelashes. It’s no place for a new baby. What is her name?”

“Bosriel. It means ‘Beauty of the Forest.’ Where are you going?”

“Dwynnen, on the bay in High Rock. You’re welcome to join me, I could use the company.” He held out his hand. “Cassyr Whitley.”

“Turala,” said the woman after a pause. She was going to use her family’s name first, as is tradition, but she realized that it was no longer her name. “I would love to accompany you, thank you.”

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19 Last Seed, 2920 Ald Lambassi, Morrowind

Five men and two women stood in the silence of the Great Room of the castle, the only sound the scrawl of quill on parchment and the gentle tapping of rain on the large picture window. As the Prince set the seal of Cyrodiil on the document, the peace was made official. The Duke of Mournhold broke out in a roar of delight, ordering wine brought in to commemorate the end of eighty years of war.

Only Sotha Sil stood apart from the group. His face betrayed no emotion. Those who knew him best knew he did not believe in endings or beginnings, but in the continuous cycle of which this was but a small part.

“My Prince,” said the castle steward, unhappy at breaking the celebration. “There is a messenger here from your mother, the Empress. He asked to see your father, but as he did not arrive - - “

Juilek excused himself and went to speak with the messenger.

“The Empress does not live in the Imperial City?” asked Vivec.

“No,” said Almalexia, shaking her head sadly. “Her husband has imprisoned her in Black Marsh, fearing that she was plotting a revolution against him. She is extremely wealthy and has powerful allies in the western Colovian estates so he could not marry another or have her executed. They’ve been at an impasse for the last seventeen years since Juilek was a child.”

The Prince returned a few minutes later. His face betrayed his anxiety, though he took troubles to hide it.

“My mother needs me,” he said simply. “I’m afraid I must leave at once. If I may have a copy of the treaty, I will bring it with me to show the Empress the good we have done today, and then I will carry it on to the Imperial City so it may be made official.”

Prince Juilek left with the fond farewells of the Three of Morrowind. As they watched him ride out into the rainswept night south towards Black Marsh, Vivec said, “Tamriel will be much healed when he has the throne.”

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31 Last Seed, 2920 Dorsza Pass, Black Marsh

The moon was rising over the desolate quarry, steaming with swamp gas from a particularly hot summer as the Prince and his two guard escort rode out of the forest. The massive piles of earth and dung had been piled high in antiquity by some primitive, long-dead tribe of Black Marsh, hoping to keep out some evil from the north. Evidently, the evil had broken through at Dorsza Pass, the large crack in the sad, lonely rampart that stretched for miles.

The black twisted trees that grew on the barrier cast strange shadows down, like a net tangling. The Prince’s mind was on his mother’s cryptic letter, hinting at the threat of an invasion. He could not, of course, tell the Dunmer about it, at the very least until he knew more and had notified his father. After all, the letter was meant for him. It was its urgent tone that made him decide to go directly to Gideon.

The Empress had also warned him about a band of former slaves who attacked caravans going into Dorsza Pass. She advised him to be certain to make his Imperial shield visible, so they would know he was not one of the hated Dunmer slavers. Upon riding into the tall weeds that flooded through the pass like a noxious river, the Prince ordered that his shield be displayed.

“I can see why the slaves use this,” said the Prince’s captain. “It’s an excellent location for an ambush.”

Juilek nodded his head, but his thoughts were elsewhere. What threat of invasion could the Empress have discovered? Were the Akaviri on the seas again? If so, how could his mother from her cell in Castle Giovese know of it? A rustle in the weeds and a single sharp human cry behind him interrupted his ponderings.

Turning around, the Prince discovered that he was alone. His escort had vanished.

The Prince peered over the stretch of the moonlit sea of grass which waved in almost hypnotic patterns to the ebb and flow of the night wind billowing through the pass. It was impossible to tell if a struggling soldier was beneath this system of vibrations, a dying horse behind another. A high, whistling wind drowned out any sound the victims of the ambush might be making.

Juilek drew his sword, and thought about what to do, his mind willing his heart not to panic. He was closer to the exit of the pass than the entrance. Whatever had slain his escort must have been behind him. If he rode fast enough, perhaps he could outrun it. Spurring his horse to gallop, he charged for the hills ahead, framed by the might black piles of dirt.

When he was thrown, it happened so suddenly, he was hurdling forward before he was truly conscious of the fact. He landed several yards beyond where his horse had fallen, breaking his shoulder and his back on impact. A numbness washed over him as he stared at his poor, dying steed, its belly sliced open by one of several spears jutting up just below the surface of the grass.

Prince Juilek was not able to turn and face the figure that emerged from the grass, nor able to move to defend himself. His throat was cut without ceremony.

Miramor cursed when he saw the face of his victim more clearly in the moonlight. He had seen the Emperor at the Battle of Bodrum when he had fought in His Imperial Majesty’s command, and this was clearly not the Emperor. Searching the body, he found the letter and a treaty signed by Vivec, Almalexia, Sotha Sil, and the Duke of Mournhold representing Morrowind and the Prince Juilek Cyrodiil, representing the Cyrodiil Empire.

“Curse my luck,” muttered Miramor to himself and the whispering grass. “I’ve only killed a Prince. Where’s the reward in that?”

Miramor destroyed the letter, as Zuuk had instructed him to do, and pocketed the treaty. At the very least, such a curiosity would have some market value. He disassembled the traps as he pondered his next step. Return to Gideon and ask his employer for a lesser reward for killing the heir? Move on to other lands? At the very least, he considered, he had picked up two useful skills from the Battle of Bodrum. From the Dunmer, he had learned the excellent spear trap. And abandoning the Imperial army, he had learned how to skulk in the grass.

The Year is Continued in Hearth Fire.

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#2920 last seed v8 #carlovac townway #skyrim #the elder scrolls #the elder scrolls v #the elder scrolls v skyrim #skyrim books

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 5 years

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The Pact - Chapter 4

Full Chapter

Sam Winchester, Gothic AU

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

A/N: This idea was a long time coming. My first true AU, so please be gentle. This will be a slow burn, multi-chapter fic. WC: 6.1K

Summary: Lord Samuel Winchester has lost the love of his life due to the actions of the Demon King, Crowley. As he plots secret revenge, his father, the King of Lawrence, decrees that Sam will wed Crowley’s daughter in order to unite the two families to protect the sacred ground the Winchester’s Kingdom is built upon.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Crowley’s Daughter!Reader

Other Players: John Winchester, Crowley, Rowena, Dean Winchester (mentioned), Bobby Singer, Jessica Moore (deceased)

Warnings: mild language, violence

The blade nipped at your neck, and you could feel the warm trickle of blood seeping down between your breasts. Your assailant had their arm snaked tightly across your chest, their grip uncomfortably firm which helped to keep consistent pressure of the blade to your flesh.

“Going to slice me from behind? Can’t even give me the respect to show your face, you coward!” you managed to shout, despite the danger at your throat. Expecting the blade to pierce you, you began to cackle with laughter when it didn’t. “Something wrong? Suddenly afraid to kill an innocent woman?”

“Shut up,” he hissed, his breath hot on your ear as he readjusted the steel at your throat. His voice, one that clearly belonged to your new husband, waivered for only a second.

“I knew you would try to kill me,” you growled, baring your teeth in a knowing smile. “I knew it, no witchcraft needed to see this coming. But you know, you screwed up.”

“Considering I’m the one with the blade at your throat, I beg to differ. But please, enlighten me, how did I screw up?” Sam asked, a mix of curiosity and even disappointment in his tone.

“You hesitated.”

In one fell swoop, you threw your head back, crashing your skull into his nose, causing him to drop his small, very sharp sword, and go reeling backwards. Sam stumbled back and into one of the old oak trees, his body rebounding off it and back towards you. Despite his handicap, he lunged towards the ground scooping his cane, just as you were able to grab his sword. His face was gritted it pain as he held it up, bracing it up to shield himself should you try and strike him with the small blade.

“I will not make that mistake again!” he shouted and swung at you wildly with the weighted end of the cane.

You dodged his attempt and wielded the blade towards him, simply to wound, not kill. It struck him in the hand, and he cursed. The sound of his voice echoing through the forest, setting off a flock of sparrows that had been resting above.

“As if I would let you get that close!” you exclaimed and brandished the blade at him again. He blocked it and was able to wobble the sword, making you try and catch it with your other hand and slicing yourself in the process. “This is madness! What purpose do you have to see me dead?!”

“Revenge,” Sam spat, his expression wrinkled in disgust. “Your father killed my Jessica—”

“And you think my death will cause him the same pain?!” You retracted your defensive stance and started to laugh. The reaction made Sam relax, too, as he just watched you cackle wildly, confused at the sudden turn of events.

“This is funny to you?”

“This?” you motioned between the two of you. “No. Trying to kill me barely a day after being married is not funny at all. You, thinking Crowley cares if I live or die is quite hilarious, however.”

“You’re his daughter. How would that not hurt him?” Sam roared, his body had relaxed, but his temper at not.

“Because I am a pawn, Samuel. Just as you are. I knew you’d try to kill me or have someone try. I could feel it radiating off you like a bad fever. I thought it may be for other reasons, though. Revenge on Crowley is just… pointless. If you want to hurt him, you have to go after what he loves.”

Sam shook his head. “You’re just trying to save your life.” He began to raise the cane again, but then lowered it back down. He leaned back against the tree and sighed in resignation.

You looked down at the small sword in your hand and noticed the end of its handle. It was the same pummel from Samuel’s cane, and you now realized where he’d been hiding it. Watching him as he rested against the tree, there was anguish in his features. He was far too proud to ever admit to it, yet, the time he’d been without the cane, and the scuffle between you, he had to be feeling discomfort deep in his bones.

“I assure you, husband, while I do value my life and don’t want it to end today, I am speaking the truth. My father means only to use me, to whatever ends he needs; to gain what it is he wants.”

“And what’s that?”

“Your land, of course. The magic that dwells in it. It’s always been his end game.”

Samuel gazed at you pensively, his eyes flickering down to the sword still resting in your hand. “Are you going to use that on me?” he asked.

“I don’t want to,” you said matter-of-factly then sighed. “I should though. You deserve that. However, I’d rather return it, so you have full use of the cane again. I can see you’re struggling.”

His brow furrowed, his head shaking slightly in disbelief. “You would hand that back to me minutes after I tried to slice your throat with it?”

“Why not? I surely will not let my guard down around you again. Should you make another attempt, I’m fairly certain I can defend myself,” you said, your tone laced with arrogance. “I mean no disrespect, Samuel, but I think your days of sword fighting are over.”

Stepping forward, you reached your hand out to return the blade to him. Sam took it hesitantly, then slid it back in its rightful place. It was then he noticed the blood that had trickled down your neck and soaking the neckline of your dress. His eyes flickered to your face, and you thought you saw regret reflected at you.

Off in the distance, an odd clap of thunder rumbled and sounded almost electric. Simultaneously, you both looked up and saw the blue skies of earlier were giving way to something more ominous. This was not the normally bleak gray clouds of a passing thunderstorm; these were dark purple, with flashing bolts of electric blue skipping through them.

They were like nothing you had ever seen before, and when you heard Sam curse under his breath, your focused turned from the attempt on your life, to what was coming.

“It’s a rift storm” he said, bringing his gaze back down to you. “It’s moving in fast, we need to get shelter, now.”

“A rift storm? What—”

“Later. We need to go, now!”

Absently, Sam grabbed your hand and pulled you in the opposite direction you came from. Despite the pain that had to have been plaguing his hip, he moved quickly amongst the trees and underbrush as he drug you along. A moment or two later, the thunder crackled again, just as droplets fell from the sky. They were falling quicker and quicker, and by the time you reached the small clearing, it was pouring.

Directly above, the putrid clouds expelled a bolt of electricity, frying the ground to your side. Sam yanked you hard out of the way, and you stumbled over a fallen limb. It caused a gash to appear, but you kept running despite the blood pouring from your ankle.

“There!” he shouted, pointing to the roof of some abandoned-looking hut a hundred yards away in an overgrown thicket of wildflowers and trees.

Two more rolls of thunder, and the rift flashed another bolt of brought gold electricity from the clouds to the ground, barely missing the edge of your dress. The door to the shack was stuck, making Sam throw his entire shoulder into it and sending it crashing open. Dashing inside after him, you slammed it shut behind you.

Sliding down the wooden planks to the floor, you tried to catch your breath, while pushing away the pain you felt in your ankle and at your throat. The rain that had fallen felt odd, almost as if that too, had been electrically charged.

Samuel had also taken to the floor; his face was wrought with pain while he pressed both hands to his fractured hip. Looking around you began to realize that you weren’t in a ramshackle hut, after all. You were in a very well stocked apothecary. It was old, and not too frequently used, but the tools and necessities were there.

Just passed were Sam lay on the floor, was a stone hearth. It was long cold, but the wood was there for burning. Getting to your feet, you limped towards it, grabbing a match from the table that your husband rested against. Setting the wood in place, you struck the match and stepped back as the hearth came to life, almost instantly.

“What is this place?” he asked, trying to gauge his surroundings.

“First, care to explain what the hell that was out there? I’ve seen some oddities in my years living in Crowley’s compound, but nothing like that. Ever.”

“It was a rift storm. Just past the border of these woods, is one of the portal rifts to Purgatory. The fighting there has caused them to become unstable. I suppose something finally gave… they seem to only happen when the tides turn towards one side or another. I just hope it was to my brother’s favor,” he said, the last few words trailing off into nothing.

“The bolts, they can kill you?”

He nodded. “The rain can too, if you are out in it too long. We should be alright, we didn’t get enough of it on our skin for it to burn. So, what is this place? Looks like Maester Singer’s quarters.”

“It’s an apothecary,” you said, falling into a chair near the hearth. “I imagine its owner uses its only occasionally; it certainly doesn’t look as if anyone has been here recently.”

You drew up your length of skirt to examine the wound on your ankle. The cut burned from the acid rain which had mixed the steady stream of blood and pooled a deep red pool in your shoes. Your hand slightly touched to the blood at your neck that left streaks and stains to the bodice of your dress. When your gaze went back to Samuel, you saw him watching you. It wasn’t accusatory or angry. For the first time since meeting him, you felt him look at you with empathy.

‘You stupid, ignorant, ass,’ Sam chastised himself, as he lay on the planks of some old witch’s hut. The air was fragrant, yet stagnant at the same time. ‘You had a shot, and you blew it. Now, you’ll never get that close again.’

He worked it over and over in his mind, why did he hesitate? Why hadn’t he let the blade slide across her skin the minute he placed it against her throat?

‘Because it’s wrong,’ his conscience spoke up. He again admonished the voices that spoke up after it, some belittling his hesitation and some praising it. His plans were so simple, yet it quickly became complicated when it came time to execute the action. The plain fact was, he couldn’t do it.

He watched her move about the room of the abandoned hovel they’d found. The rift storm’s timing had been terrible, but at least they made it to some sort of shelter. There would have been no way they would have made it back to the castle before getting struck, or so soaked by the poisonous rain that they’d be laid up with fevers within a night’s time.

(Y/N) got a fire going, then sat in a chair beside it to examine both the wound on her neck and the one on her ankle. He could feel the rise of regret in his throat, and he hated what he had become. An angry, jealous, spiteful man who was becoming more and more like his father every day. His overwhelming need to get revenge for Jessica’s death had taken over the last year of his life, then nearly pushed him to kill in cold blood.

“Are you alright?” he asked finally, his face pensive and worried. Not so much for her condition, because she looked fair considering, but for how he had treated her since the moment they met.

“Its fine. Just flesh wounds,” she replied without looking at him, then peeled up the arm of her dress revealing the small gash made by the sword.

(Y/N) rose from her chair and limped to the table along the far wall. She gathered a few random things and began to tend to the wound on her ankle. Sam didn’t try to engage her in conversation, though now he found himself curious and wanted to ask her questions. He watched her work a spool of fabric around the cuts, both instantly turning red from the blood that remained. He watched her face, too, expecting it to respond as she felt pain or discomfort, but it didn’t. (Y/N)’s expression remained unflinching as she continued to patch herself up.

Knowing that he had to try and find a way to make things a little better, Samuel cleared his throat. “I’m—I’m sorry. I was wrong for trying to—”

“Kill me?” she interjected, finally casting her (Y/C) eyes his way. They were intense and hard, yet he didn’t see any anger in them.

“Yes. But also, for last night. You’re right. We are both pawns in our father’s games. Last night I treated you terribly, and I’m sorry. I’ve lived with nothing but a need for revenge against Crowley for so long, I lost a bit of my sanity along the way.”

“He has that affect on people,” she said. Sam perked up at the small smirk that tugged at the corner of her mouth. “He’s a hateful ma—creature. Trust me. I’ve lived with him all my life and I know first hand just how cruel and unforgiving he can be. Why do you think I agreed to this lunacy?”

“Why did you?” he asked.

“To get out. To be free of Crowley for good. He had me so restricted once I became an adult, that I could barely ever leave my chambers. The moment I expressed any interest in the world beyond his compound, I became a prisoner. If that doesn’t tell you of his intentions for me, I don’t know what will.”

Sam pushed himself up as best he could and wished he could get up from the floor without looking pathetic. The inflammation in his hip was debilitating now, thanks to the scuffle earlier, then having to run through the woods. The slightest move sent shockwaves of pain down his leg and up his side, rendering him motionless. Yet, in that moment, he wished he could stand and just walk over to her and lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. He could sympathize; but what he couldn’t do, was move.

He settled for sitting up straighter against the leg of the table. “So, you agreed to this marriage simply to leave his prison for this one?”

“This isn’t a prison, Samuel.”

“Sam. Please, call me Sam.”

“Alright, Sam. This isn’t a prison at all. This place is magic. It breathes life. When I touched that tree out there… when I became distracted enough for you to get the jump on me… What I felt there was like nothing I ever had before. Can’t you feel it?”

Sam nodded. “Yes, I can. I just can’t harness it like some can.”

“Isn’t it what healed your injuries? Rowena said you died out there, but once you were brought back to Lawrence, you were given new life.”

“Something like that,” he shrugged. He wanted to be kinder towards her, but he certainly wasn’t going to divulge everything all at once. Sam briefly wondered how one did tell their wife, who was a stranger, that they were enchanted by some unknown spell their mother performed on them when they were barely six months old. Though, she had grown up with Rowena, if anyone would understand, it would be her.

(Y/N) finished tending to her wounds and focused on the objects around the room. Despite her ankle, she began moving around the space, grabbing random ingredients; some Sam could identify, other’s he could not. When she seemed satisfied with her haul, she approached him cautiously, her arms crossed over her chest and even if she was a stranger, he could still read her and (Y/N)’s expression told him she was plotting something.

“Can you stand?” she asked flatly, but not without an underlying challenge in her tone.

A flash of quick anger nearly erupted, causing his nose to snarl in a momentary lapse of judgment. Was she mocking him? Baiting him to stand and come after her again? But she just stood there, and raised a challenging brow at him, making him reform his expression.

“I don’t know,” he replied through gritted teeth. “I can try.”

She offered a hand to help him up, but he waved her off. (Y/N) took a step back and watched Sam roll to the uninjured side and work to get his knee under him, so he could use the table to propel himself upward. It took more effort than he would admit but he finally did it, grateful the table was there for a lot of support.

“Good, now lay down,” she commanded, but didn’t move to help him this time.

“Lay down? Where, exactly?”

“On the table, you daft boy. I can help you with your hip. I remember a salve that will help take away some of your pain. If you use it regularly, it can help to further repair the damage.”

Sam shook his head slightly. “No, it can’t.”

“Don’t you trust me?” she asked, a hint of teasing to her voice.

“Not as far as I could throw you. In my current condition that would be a foot if I was lucky.”

“Well, as far I as I see it, you have two choices. Stay in this painful state, and deal with the crippling affects it will have, as you eventually walk back to the castle. OR, you could take off your pants, lay on the damn table and let me salve you.”

“Take off my pants?” he chortled in disbelief. “You are crazy. I’m not taking off my pants in front of you.”

“Going to be hard to produce an heir then, isn’t it?” she quipped.

Sam looked at her in shock; his brow furrowed in a mix of amusement, confusion and uncertainty. “Wha—What did you say?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Stop being such a prude. Besides, I am simply interested in helping to relieve some of your pain. Isn’t that one of the perks of knowing magic in the first place?”

Before he could answer, a roar of thunder screamed across the skies overhead, shaking the walls of the structure. Sam gripped the table while (Y/N) held onto the small workstation beside her.

“Is that normal?” she asked, a bit of fear apparent on her face for the first time.

“Uh. Yes and no,” he shrugged. “Normal in a rift storm, but rift storms aren’t exactly normal, so…”

“Boy, I bet you’re a barrel of laughs at parties, huh?”

Sam laughed genuinely and nodded. “So I’ve been told.”

She nodded upwards. “How much longer will this last?”

“Depends. Could be a few hours, could be minutes, could be days.”

“Great. Well, I guess we have time. Come on, up on the table.”

“No, I’m not getting naked and letting you rub me with some mysterious—”

“Oh, for the love of—it’s not like I haven’t seen a man’s brains before, Samuel. Come on, off with them.” She motioned towards his pants and he couldn’t believe how brazen she was being.

“Sam,” he mumbled sheepishly.

Sam couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was too unsure of her intentions to allow himself to be so exposed and vulnerable to her. (Y/N) was not at all like he expected. She was strong and opinionated, she was vivacious and had an arrogance about her that he found alluring. For all her confidence, he felt that a lot of it was staged for his benefit and it made him was suddenly very glad that his plans to take her out had taken a turn.

That’s when the Oracle’s voice spoke up in his mind, repeating the words she’d told him the day before.

She’s yet to show herself, but behind the feathers, the dark, iridescent feathers, lies the match to your unburnt flame.

She had said something else about this mysterious woman, too. Hadn’t she?

The twin to your soul. The one who holds your future…

He looked to (Y/N) who was watching him carefully. “Look, I just want to help, alright? But I can’t force you, so. I’ll make the salve for myself. Then, when you see its harmless, maybe you’ll get over yourself and accept the help.”

He didn’t know what to say. The haunting echo of the Oracle’s proclamation mixed with the conflicting bout of emotions he was feeling didn’t allow for him to say anything at all. Sam just watched this woman, Crowley’s daughter, go to work on grinding herbs, searching through oils and flowers, then mixing them all together.

The room began to come alive with the scent of a meadow just after a Spring rain. He was slowly becoming fascinated with watching her work and started to wonder if maybe he wasn’t being too harsh in turning down her help.

“Maybe…” he stumbled, letting his change of heart get caught in his throat. “Maybe, uh, I could take you up on that after all.”

Sam worked at positioning himself on the table and begrudgingly agreed to remove his pants; but only so far. Leaving his coat behind, he lifted the tails of his shirt and you saw the raised flesh and scaring on his hip. Though the skin had healed, it was mangled and hideous in how it pieced itself back together. You wondered if maybe his reluctance wasn’t to be receiving of your help, but to you seeing the injury up close and personal.

You hovered your hand over the area and felt a sick heat radiating from it. A pang of sympathy hit you as you realized how badly the bones had to have been shattered beneath his skin. Closing your eyes and lowering your hands to just barely touch him, you could almost feel the stabbing jolts that plagued him, yourself. You took a moment to pray that the paste you made could help him, even just a little.

Dipping your hand into the salve, you were just about lay hands on him, when another avalanche of thunder boomed overhead. It shook the walls again. You reached out to grab hold of something to steady yourself, one on the table, and one gripping Sam’s leg.

Sam partially twisted back to look at you, the pain of the action etched on his face. “Are you alright?” he asked, his hand reaching back to touch your arm. “That was the strongest one yet.”

You nodded and released a shaky breath. Once the thunder stopped echoing, the room grew quiet. The crackle of the fire and your breathing were the only sounds that your ears could detect. Swallowing nervously, you gently began to apply the cream to his hip. He didn’t react at first, but a moment or two after you applied the first pass, Sam’s body noticeably relaxed.

“Wow,” he mumbled, “huh.”

“Can you feel it already?”

“Yeah, it tingles.”

“Good, that means it’s working.”

It grew quiet again, and you were struck by how comfortable the quiet suddenly was. You thought he would be a curmudgeon about what you were doing, but he was surprisingly at ease. Applying more of the salve, you found yourself gazing at the lines of his hips, around to his abdomen. There was additional scaring there, but the place of the old wound was higher.

You reached out and touched it gently, the balm still on your fingers. Sam’s body shivered to your touch and you pulled away quickly, afraid he’d admonish you for exploring that spot. When he didn’t react, you continued the work. The longer you lay hands on his flesh, the more you began to wonder how things may have been between the two of you, if you had met by chance, instead of through this ridiculous arrangement that did nothing more than breed animosity.

It suddenly occurred that he didn’t know about your chat with His Majesty that morning. Unsure if you wanted to disturb the peace you and Sam had forged, you weighed your options and decided it was better to be upfront with him. Having him in the current position you did, then was as good a time as any

“I should tell you, your father stopped by your chambers this morning,” you said somewhat casually.

Sam huffed and shook his head. “I’m not surprised. What did he say?”

“A lot of veiled threats about holding up my end of this pact we’ve made.”

“And if you don’t? Let me guess, Hellfire reigns down.”

“Something like that,” you mused. Thinking back on the conversation with John, you remembered how angry you felt at his assumption it would be you to be the one who reneged on your cooperation.

“What else? There had to have been more. John Winchester doesn’t just threaten and run.”

“He’s given me a deadline to become pregnant,” you said, your voice cracking on the last word. You were still applying the ointment, but your movements had slowed. A quick image flashed in your head of laying with him, both your bodies tangled in the sheets, quick breaths, that desperate need to be touched… You flashed warm with embarrassment and shook the image from your head.

“I see. How much time?”

“A fortnight. He said that if I’m not with child by then, I’ll be sent back to the MacLeod’s and to the dungeon. Where I will live with the filth and traitors. He assumed if it wasn’t carrying an heir by then, it would be my fault.”

Sam sat up suddenly, causing you to draw your hands from his hip. For a man who was so wrought with pain, he turned his body quickly and swung his legs to the floor. “Did he now? Anything else?”

You hesitated but went with your instincts to divulge the entire truth of the conversation. “Yes, I told him that he needed to give me time to convince you to be all in. That, I would try and persuade you to—”

“Sleep with you?” he interjected. He snarled a smile of angry disbelief, but when he looked back up at you, his gaze soften while his brow furrowed in concern. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that. I should have been there.”

“Yes, you should have. But not because I need your protection from your father, but because we both agreed to this, Sam. I see your ulterior motives differed vastly from mine,” you paused and gave him a purposeful, chastising glance, “but, now that is through, I hope, maybe we can move on to something more beneficial for both of us.”

Leaning on the table for support, Sam put weight on his feet and was able to stand tall without the use of his cane. His pensive brow eased, and he looked up at you with a bit of a twinkle in his eyes.

“Do you need your cane?” you asked.

Sam shook his head. “No, I don’t think I do. At least not yet.”

He adjusted his pants and buckled his belt before trying to take a step towards you. Sam wobbled for a moment, and when he found his footing again, he stood up even taller.

“Do you feel pain?”

He shook his head again. “No. Not even a little. Ho—How? I have the best Maester in all of Lawrence in Bobby Singer, and nothing he’s tried has relieved it like this.’

You shrugged softly. “Couldn’t say. We all work differently, I suppose.”

Sam considered it for a moment, satisfied with your response, then slowly started walking about the room. You could tell he was thinking as he made his way towards his cane, taking it up again, but merely moving it towards the chair by the fire.

“Do you mind if I just sit and let this absorb?” he said and motioned towards his hip.

“No, please do. The longer its on, the longer you should go without discomfort.”

Easing himself into the chair, Sam found your gaze again. “About what you said before, how could we spin this to be beneficial for both of us. Do we simply just go along with their plans?”

“Which are?” you asked, making your way back around the table, pausing at another crack of the erroneous thunder above. It sounded further away, which hopefully meant the store was nearly through.

“Like you said, Crowley wants our lands. There’s no way His Majesty will let that happen.”

“Crowley only told me he’s pushing for an heir as well. A child descended of both bloodlines, that will inherit them eventually. A child I imagine he’s wanting to manipulate to his favor,” you sighed.

Sam gazed into the fire and leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows to his knees. “What if we were to give them that. At least, make them think it. We go along with the marriage, make it as if we’re trying to give them what they both want. If we’re smart about it, I’m sure we could figure out what they’re really up to.”

You chuckled, running a tongue over your bottom lip. “Why, Samuel, working together so deviously would require there to be a modicum of trust between us. How could that happen after this morning?”

He was quiet and pensive. Though the intense gaze of his stained-glass eyes, they never seemed to stay the same color, you felt a regret that ran as deeply as the cliffs you grew up on. Just like your instinct screamed about someone wanting to kill you, they now told you at the same volume, he wouldn’t try it again.

“I wish I could take that back,” he started, his voice cracking on the last word. “I’ve never regretted anything more in my life. Losing her…” his voice quivered at the mention of Jessica, and your heart both broke for him, and felt an intense bolt of jealousy that no one you’d known yet in this world would feel like that if it were you who had died. “It was awful. Getting revenge for her death—its just something I have to do. I was willing to take a life for it. Even give up my own life if that’s what it meant.”

He shrugged slightly and wrung his hands together, unsure of what to say.

“Sam, let go of the burden. I’m alive. It’s done with. I said it partially to tease you, though my mistrust doesn’t go without merit. But I can see you’re sorry and my instincts tell me you won’t try it again. I think you know if you do, you will lose your life in the process.”

Sam looked at you curiously and couldn’t stop the grin that expanded on his lips.

“You really are a force to be reckoned with, aren’t you?”

Taking a few steps closer to him, you placed a hand on his shoulder and gazed down at him with a devilish grin. “You have no idea, Samuel. But I promise, you will find out.”

John paced the floors of his chambers, each pass of the room eliciting a growl of discontent. In a distant part of the city, church bells began ringing in order to call the citizens of Lawrence for evening mass. Pastor Jim would be greeting them on the steps, just before starting his sermon. Briefly, John wondered if today’s teaching would be on the Great Angel Wars, the blight that nearly wiped out a kingdom, or perhaps on the current state of the battles in Purgatory. If so, maybe he could drum up a few more able-bodied men and women to join the cause.

The ringing of the bells again shifted his focus on just how late Crowley was for their meeting. He had his guards strip the castle of the warding specifically for the ceremony so Crowley could come and go without a problem. John purposely forgot to have the guards raise them again, just to have the secret meeting with the Red King since he smoked out immediately after the ceremony. Now he was late, and John Winchester was starting to become impatient.

Grabbing his cloak, he was about to leave his chambers and head for the stables. He’d take a damn horse and ride to the cliffs if he had too. Just as he reached for the door, a slight breeze brushed passed his ear and he followed it, Crowley was standing there smug as always.

“You’re late,” John mumbled, tossing his cloak to the chair. “Care to explain why you smoked out last night? You were supposed to—”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you,” Crowley smiled. “I’m here now. So, talk.”

“This arrangement only works, Crowley, if I can trust you’ll hold up your end. When you don’t arrive, when you say you will, my faith in you dwindles. Fast.”

“Aw, sorry. I didn’t realize how much you missed me when I left,” he tilted his head and winked, causing John’s face to flash red with anger. “Have faith, darling. Your souls will be arriving on the front lines shortly. I made sure to send the best of the best. Dean will have all the backup he needs in merely a week’s time.”

“A week?!” John roared. “How the Hell is he supposed to fend off the army of Purgatory, with all those damn monsters gunning for his throat, with no reinforcements for a whole week!”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, your Majesty,” Crowley gave him a slight, mocking bow. “I didn’t leave them completely helpless.”

John took a few hulking steps towards the demon. “Explain!”

“You really need to do something about that blood pressure, Winchester. If you don’t, maybe Samuel runs things sooner than you think.”

“Explain what you mean by not leaving them helpless,” the King commanded, letting his frame loom over Crowley.

“A rift storm. I had my minions create a little disturbance. The fighting will cease for several days at least.”

“That will trickle to Lawrence, you fool!” John was steaming with rage. “Don’t you know the damage that can cause here? People have died!”

“Yes, I’m aware. Who do you think sent the ones that killed so many last year?” Crowley purred with satisfaction.

John closed his eyes, trying to quell the rising need to slaughter Crowley right there and then. “If one more person is harmed because of your negligence…”

“You’ll what?” Crowley asked incredulously. “Kill me? I dare you to try. But we’ve been down this road before, have we not? Last I checked we agreed it doesn’t end well for either of us. Hence the pairing of our children. Focus on that, would ya? Let me take care of Purgatory.”

John paced the room again, his hands on his hips, a scowl of distrust on his face. Every so often he would glance Crowley’s way, desperate to see the demon’s smug expression burnt off as he was sent straight back to Hell. That would do his cause no good, but it would give him a sense of personal satisfaction.

“Fine,” he growled lowly. “But the next time I call for you and want an update, you better show up. On time.”

“Why yes, of course,” Crowley grinned and bowed lowly, “Your Majesty.”

John rolled his eyes and turned his back on the Red King. “You can go now.”

“Gladly. But first I’d like to know how my daughter is fairing. Still alive, I hope.”

“Yes. She is. She’ll stay that way as long as she’s with child within a fortnight.”

“Lofty goals for your boy. You’re certain he’ll fall into line?”

“He will.”

“He better. If not, well… just remember that little clause in our contract, yeah?” Crowley smirked.

Before John could say anything else, Crowley was gone, leaving only a trace of red smoke behind. John exhaled deeply and rubbed his hands over his beard then pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What the Hell did I get myself into,” he sighed, and sat heavily on the edge of his bed, now worried his choices would be the cause of Sam’s death.

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#Sam Winchester AU #Sam Winchester Fan Fiction #Sam Winchester x You #Sam Winchester x Reader Insert #Sam winchester x reader #Crowley's Daughter Reader

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modounbubble · 6 years

Text

Amanus vanilla fic

Just because I miss rainy days and I don’t want to study for the 3 upcoming quiz tomorrow what could go wrong. 1.5k vanilla, read with cautious cuz I never look back to check my grammar/word choice/plot hole

Like an eternity.

The abyss was quiet and peaceful. Not a sound or a single living being. Manus stared into the dark with his enormous glowing eyes, breaths slow and steady. He missed being asleep, he missed the times that he could simply reject reality by falling into a stage of unconscious. A shame that eyelids didn’t exist in his new form, all he could do was looking into the darkness and pretended that he’s slumbering in peace.

The loud footsteps mix with metal clatter sound broke his meditation. He reached for his catalyst and ready to put the next person out of their own misery.

“Father!”

He put his catalyst down.

“Father! Let us walked outside and have a taste of fresh air. It’s windy and the sky is clear today, we can, we can have a nice view-”

“Artorias, Artorias. I appreciate your thoughts, but my answer is the same as usual.”

The wolf knight smiled bitterly and shove his sword into the ground,“but Father, you are not staying here forever.” He paused when he was about to reach Manus’ hand. After he’s sure that Manus didn’t protest, he picked up the smaller hand of Manus and close it between his two hands. “Please?”

Manus shook his head and touched Artorias’ hand with his thumb,“I’m staying here forever. This is where I reborn, and it shall be where I die. I belonged to the Abyss and I shall stay as I shall.”

Artorias pouted, “Can we just, spend some time in a place that’s not always dark and rocky? You are Manus, Father of the Abyss; you don’t belong to the Abyss, the Abyss belong to you. Or you’ll be the son of the Abyss——anyways, you can always return whenever you wish, just a short walk won’t hurt your back, old man.” Artorias’ heart stopped a beat when all the eyes on Manus glared at him, but he managed to keep the Artorias brand of enthusiastic smile on his face. “I cleared all the scums roaming up above and disposed them down the cliff. Don’t you miss the starry night sky, soft soil with moss, sound of dew dropping into a puddle of water? Let’s go.” He encouragely pulled Manus’ hand, uring him to go.

“No.”

Artorias’ eyes fell, the lively aura faded into the darkness. His smile came back in the next second, “Fine then, I’ll go by myself again.” He took out the sword from the ground and jumped away from the deepest pit of the Chasm, leaving the dark beast alone once again. He traversed through the Abyss slowly, listening to his own heavy footsteps and armors clattering and pondered another way to ask his stubborn lover out.

When he heard the heavy foot steps that didn’t belong to him echoed in the Abyss, his eyes shimmered with joy. The humanity sprites floats out of the way as Manus marched towards where Artorias was; he offered his smaller hand to Artorias as the latter took it gladly. “You came after all.”

“Suppose I do miss the stars up above. Perhaps the sensation of nature, too.”

“Yes Father! Tonight is one of the best night of Oolacile, the chirping birds, the wind, the stars, especially the stars! Come, come with me!”

Manus couldn’t help but smiled. His precious child was the only thing in this desperate world that brought him joy. He barely remembered this kind of emotion but he sure was grateful when he experienced it again. He followed the knight, who seemed to going to transform into a happy puppy at any moment.

“Oh no.” Artorias looked at the clouded sky and the bloat heads roaming around the township screaming, brows frowned. “I, I swear I never meant to deceive you by any means Father, I cleared those fiends earlier today and the sky-”

“You were right, Artorias. It’s a beautiful night indeed, only a little windy.” Manus’ replied calmly as he slow walk to groups of bloat heads and smack them all down to the cliff, toss them into the distance like it’s child’s play. “I miss the woods, Artorias.” He added as he went back to take Artorias’ hand. The ball of anxious finally vanished from Artorias’ chest. Artorias kept looking at Manus as they slow walked in the old royal woods, wanting to know whether he liked the outside world, if he liked the soil, the wind, butterflies, chirping birds…

His train of thoughts was interrupted by a single raindrop. Two, three, and plenty of dews fell from the sky, slowly wetting his cape. He swallowed and sigh, he didn’t want to go back this early but he had no other choices. He turned to Manus, and suddenly he’s being pulled into an embrace. Manus gestured him to turn around and sit on his lap and curl up; he then covered Artorias’ entire body with his mutated hand. “You may spread my fingers if you want to witness.”

The raindrops soon turned into showers, and downpour. Artorias was perfectly sheltered by Manus’ hand; he could only feel small drops of rain water dripping from Manus’ chin to the back of his neck. Once again Artorias felt guilty that the night didn’t turned out to be as romantic as he described, now they’re both stuck at the edge of the woods. He feared that Manus would be unhappy about it and never got out of the Abyss ever again. Artorias enjoyed being close and protected by Manus like this, but he had to apologize first. “Father, I…” “Hush, child. Listen, the rain is getting heavier.”

The sound of wet leaves clashing with one another was getting more intense, a lightning shattered the sky and turned the whole universe into 1 second of whiteness. A storm assaulted the forest, snapped the branches off the trees and washed the soil off the ground. Strands of wet hair flew into Artorias eyes and mouth; the wolf knight brushed his messy hair out of the way and looked up to Manus——The dark beast stayed still and breathed slowly, seemed to enjoying the chaotic side of nature. A branch flew and stabbed right into one of the red eyes, but there was no reaction, nothing. He looked down to his knight, who’s looking up at him as he brushed his hair out of his face. Manus smiled gently as he helped Artorias to get his hair out of the way and, he couldn’t help but rubbed his head, making those dark curly strands into a mess again.

Heavy rain never last too long. Not this time, at least. The relentless pouring reduced to shower again; water, leave, flowers dropped gently on Manus’ horns and furs. And it reduced, and reduced, until the wind blew all the clouds away.

“Father are you alright?” “Child, look.”

Artorias looked up. The immense stars covered all over the night sky and adorn the air of Oolacile with their brilliant light. One shooting star flew towards the east and followed by another; their long tail of light formed two beautiful arc in this star puzzle of night sky. Manus spoke quietly, “Your lord once told me my eyes were as beautiful as the starry sky. I often looked up at night thinking about those words, wanting to know what it is that he saw in my eyes.”

“He’s my lord no more, Father.” Artorias corrected him, the little part of him started to afraid. Lord Gwyn’s betrayal directly contributed to Manus’ death and transformation; Artorias feared his initially good intention triggered Manus’ bad memories. But as if Manus didn’t heard him, the Dark Lord continued, “Now I am beholding the beautiful scenery in my life. And from now every time I look up at the night sky, all I can think of is you now...”

Upon hearing those words, Artorias’ face turned into a cherry; he sat still like a statue as Manus gently stroked his hair. “Th-thank you very much.” He stuttered, unable to think of other words to reply. “I, I am, I really appreciate that.”

Knowing that his poor child was embarrassed, Manus smirked and turned the wolf knight around, wanting to tease him further. “No, my dear Artorias. I shall be the grateful one to you. If it was not your invitation, I will never be able to see such wondrous night. You, dear Artorias, you make me feel alive.” He made sure all the red eyes focused on Artorias’ crimson face.

“It’s my pleasure Father.” Artorias looked away and laughed awkwardly, “I’ve never been told something so romantic ahahaha...I am very happy.”

Manus couldn’t hold back the urge anymore. He reached to Artorias’s face and pulled him into a passionate kiss. He breathed in Artorias’ breaths, savoured every taste of his young knight. After they pulled apart slightly, Artorias stared at Manus’ face a bit before grabbing the two little horns on each sides of his face and kiss him again.

The night was long and silent.

#Amanus #Dark Souls #fanfic #Manus Father of the Abyss #Knight Artorias

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hopeassassin · 6 years

Text

Lucid

Lol, ok, so...

It’s been 2 years almost since my last feeble attempt to write. And I wrote this one for @spitfiring, because we had a bit of a chat on personal messages here and she said she would love to read something in this vein or at least in the vein of what this was originally planned as... so here ya’ll have it! Finally finished, zomg. A character study gone way out of control.

WARNING: It’s a slow burner and a behemoth. Approach at your own risk.

Title: Lucid

Word Count: 20 772. fuck me

Summary: Those first days back in Teikou—even before Kise joined—were like a wonderful dream.

That was why when the cracks in their idyll started appearing, everyone tried to ignore them as long as possible.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

lucid /ˈluːsɪd/

- (psychology)

- (of a dream) experienced with the dreamer feeling awake, aware of dreaming, and able to control events consciously.

x.x.x.x.x.x

Those first days back in Teikou—even before Kise joined—were like a wonderful dream to Daiki.

He had felt like he was soaring every single day.

He went to bed happy and giddy about the upcoming practice the next day. At night he dreamt of facing off against strong opponents that pushed him and the rest of the soon-to-be-dubbed Generation of Miracles to their limits.

He would wake up before his alarm went off and get ready for school in record time.

During classes the whole day he’d pretty much space out and tune out everything his teachers were trying to teach him. He would bounce on the balls of his feet all day just for those precious hours after school.

During those times he would get to play with the people who infallibly made basketball even more fun.

Something he’d thought physically impossible. Yet there it had been.

And Satsuki would watch in awe of how quickly he’d improve his game—beyond her wildest expectations. There was little doubt in her mind that this improvement was owing largely to the fact that Daiki had finally found people matching his talent. Not only that, he had found friends who potentiated his plays and style.

She had loved watching them—watching Dai-chan play with his friends in the first string—to a degree she would never be able to express with words.

It had felt like a dream to them both—one that was incomparable to anything else. A wonderful dream where everyone was happy and smiling and one.

That was why when the cracks in their idyll started appearing, everyone tried to ignore them as long as possible.

Regardless of the fact they were only fourteen years old, they realized well that nothing lasted forever in life. There was no such thing as forever. No matter how great something was, eventually it would start to fall apart.

But for the sake of their fragile selves—for the sake of that happiness they’d won with difficulty—they pretended like they didn’t see it all coming apart at the seams.

However, it did. Slowly but surely it started coming undone.

It had all been a very painful affair for everyone concerned… yet Satsuki felt like the people most deeply affected by the ordeal were the ones whose hearts were the most vested in the Generation of Miracles utopia.

Namely Tetsu-kun and Dai-chan.

She could never pretend to understand how Tetsu-kun must’ve felt during those days. When he started feeling that something was off. When winning games no longer brought those blinding smiles to everyone’s faces.

No longer brought a smile to their ace’s face.

When the faces they showed during quarters and breaks in matches turned into grimaces.

When they no longer bore expressions shown by normal boys enjoying a sport they loved in one another’s company.

She adored Tetsu-kun and that was perhaps the furthest one could get from understanding another.

Nevertheless, from having watched him and interacted with him, she knew enough to be certain that slowly losing his closest friend on the court to his unfair amount of budding talent couldn’t have been easy.

Especially when it was at a sport that Tetsu-kun was almost talentless at, regardless how much he loved it.

But the finishing blow had been dealt personally by none other than Dai-chan, she knew.

She knew because she saw Dai-chan that day.

x.x.x.x.x.x

As if it wasn’t enough that he just up and left practice that day. Out of nowhere, he just took his things and ran off.

Satsuki heard from the coach that the head coach ran into him and didn’t even grill the idiot into coming back to practice.

Then that… weird showdown between Mukkun and Akashi-kun happened. It felt like something in Akashi-kun snapped in that moment.

To top it all off, despite having won the power struggle, Akashi-kun said some outrageous stuff about everyone from the recently dubbed Generation of Miracles being free to do as they pleased as long as they won their games. Something he had been more than reluctant to allow now even ten minutes earlier.

What would become of their team if they stopped trying to work together? Somehow, she couldn’t imagine a favorable outcome of that scenario.

After it was all said and done, Satsuki headed home that day with an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach.

That’s when she saw Dai-chan, listlessly dragging his feet on the wet sidewalk, no umbrella or anything to shield him from the pouring rain.

She rushed over to him, holding her umbrella up over him and starting to dutifully chew him out for disappearing in a hissy fit earlier.

When he fixed his eyes on her, her words died on her tongue. His expression and the look in his cobalt eyes worked as though someone had driven a stake through her heart.

She didn’t know why but it was suddenly hard to breathe.

“Ah… Satsuki…” he’d muttered eloquently, blinking slowly at her. The short spikes of hair were sticking to his forehead because of the rain. There were droplets of water in his eyelashes from having been out in the downpour too long. “Where did you come from?”

Satsuki swallowed hard around the lump in her throat.

“Practice, of course!” she said without any fervor in her reproach. Nevertheless, she felt it a small victory to have been able to compose herself as to say that much. “The same place you should’ve come back from!”

At this, Daiki’s eyes shifted away from her, pinning to their feet and the small rivers running along the streets of the city. He was so listless that he could best be described as lifeless.

She shuddered.

The shiver that raked her being had nothing to do with the chill from the cold rain.

“Look at you, all soaked to the bone.” She huffed to herself and started fishing in her pocket with her free hand. When she found what she was looking for—a handkerchief—she turned her attention back to Daiki to see him just as emotionlessly surveying her without having moved a muscle. “Come here, Dai-chan. Let’s undo at least some of the damage that pesky rain did, eh?”

She started dabbing at his face and neck and then soaked up as much of the water in his hair as she could with the small piece of cloth.

It unnerved her that he never complained once during the whole two minutes she busied herself with that task. He didn’t say anything, for that matter. He didn’t even move. It caused her uneasiness to intensify.

“Come on, Dai-chan. Let’s go home.”

Satsuki didn’t know why, but she had a feeling that hearing her call him by the same nickname she had for over ten years (until they entered Teikou) seemed to have some kind of jump-start effect on him.

If even a tiny one.

If even just enough to get him out of his catatonia enough to do as she asked.

He started trudging down the road with her, his soaked shoes and practice slacks making a sloppy sound that made her cringe. She could only imagine how it felt to be walking in shoes full of water and having a second—freezing—skin.

She tried to strike a conversation with him clumsily as they headed home. But Dai-chan wouldn’t respond to anything she asked. Not regarding what he’d been up to, not about why he’d stormed off like that. Not even whether he’d been out in the rain the entire time, or if he’d met with Tetsu-kun.

It was all starting to become very unsettling until they finally arrived at their houses.

Seeing as Satsuki was the person with the umbrella, she escorted Daiki to his place.

“We’re back, Auntie!” she called out loudly when it seemed like her childhood friend wouldn’t.

They had been standing at the entrance to the Aomine’s house for a good minute in complete silence until she had decided to take it upon herself to announce their arrival.

She swallowed thickly again when Daiki just stared at nothing in particular while toeing off his ridiculously wet shoes. He was just in the process of dumping his equally wet school bag near the entrance when his mother poked her head from the living room.

“Welcome back, you two! You sure are late today—did you have some fun after practice?” the woman started cheerily. That was when the sight of her son drenched from the rain registered with her and she let out horrified shriek when he made to enter the house. “Good lord, Daiki! What the hell happened to you?!”

It set Satsuki even more on edge that he didn’t even utter a word of explanation to his mother.

“Sacchan, what is this?!” The woman who was like a second mother to her demanded of Satsuki next. It was a tactic that she often opted for through the years whenever her son was too pouty or moody to give her the time of day.

Before Satsuki could explain, Daiki finally opened his mouth.

“I forgot my umbrella, mother.”

This piece of information made his parent’s eye twitch spastically. This tells me nothing, young man! It was conveyed loud and clear to Satsuki, even if the older woman hadn’t breathed a word.

“I offered to take him home with my umbrella but he was already soaked when we met up, so…” Satsuki offered in an attempt to assuage the possible clash that could occur lest she intervened.

Somehow, she knew that it was the last thing Dai-chan needed that day. To get in an argument with his mother over this.

It seemed enough to placate the Aomine female to let the matter go, but not enough to let go of another.

She crossed her arms as she surveyed her offspring at the entrance.

“Well, whatever, but you’re not getting inside my house like that!” She huffed loudly as she turned around and headed for the cupboard where Satsuki knew they kept clean towels. “Take off your soaked clothes at the entrance and go take a shower.”

Daiki took a moment, then two to process the information. He proceeded to unceremoniously peel off his t-shirt from himself, dropping the cloth with a wet plop next to his feet—atop the tiles of the entrance.

Satsuki watched him with that same nervous tension as he went on to do the same with his slacks.

Then there was a towel shoved under his nose by his unamused mother.

“Dry your feet and legs. Oh, and your hair.” She basically ordered him when he took the proffered object.

The blue haired youth proceeded to mechanically do as told, until he received his mother’s nod of approval.

He was clad only in his wet underwear that still stuck to him in an obscene way, but he was no longer dripping rivers of rainwater on the wooden floorboards of the house.

“Okay then. Into the bathroom with you—chop chop!”

His mother shoved the boy with a testy huff. He shuffled his feet in the designated direction without a word.

“Make it a long and hot shower, Daiki!” his mother called after him.

Neither woman at the entrance understood whether he’d heard or not, because he gave no response—verbal or otherwise.

Satsuki watched him with a worried lip as he disappeared around the corner.

“Seriously, what’s got into that boy? He’s like a walking corpse.” The Aomine matron huffed in annoyance, placing her hands on her hips. Then she turned her attention to Satsuki. “Sacchan, did you guys have a fight or something?”

The pink-haired girl simply shook her head in response.

“He was like this already when we met up after practice.”

Her auntie let out a loud and long sigh.

“Jeez. What goes on in the head of that boy…”

After a brief interaction, Satsuki bowed and excused herself to go home.

It wasn’t like Dai-chan would be out of the bathroom anytime too soon.

Not if his mother had anything to say about it.

Yet even as she ate dinner with her parents, she still couldn’t focus on the conversation over supper thanks to the sickening feeling that had nested itself deeply in her heart that day.

The unease itself wasn’t news. It had been steadily growing over the last few weeks. The first time she’d felt it was when she realized that the cracks had started forming. It was the same time as their ace noticing it himself.

The first time when his opponents stopped even trying to play against him in that qualifier game for the nationals.

Teikou had been winning by a landslide and Daiki had been on fire. Something that she always looked forward to in a game. Yet, instead of that driving his opponents to try harder in order to stop him, instead those boys had simply adopted that deadened look and stopped trying altogether.

That was the day that the ace’s talents had started to blossom. And what that unease signified for Satsuki was just that it had been the tip of the iceberg.

The events from practice today were simply proof for exactly that. What was worse, now it wasn’t only Dai-chan whose growth she feared.

There was now Mukkun, too.

Not to mention the change that Akashi-kun had gone through during that short showdown with the tall center.

Just thinking about the situation made Satsuki’s skin crawl.

She couldn’t shake the notion that she shouldn’t leave Daiki alone that day.

So, after quickly scuffling down her dinner, she told her parents she’d be at Dai-chan’s and raced off towards the neighboring house.

Thankfully, the rain had stopped.

But the lack of rain did nothing to disperse the murky feeling Satsuki was drowning in.

She found her childhood friend sitting on the couch, watching his favorite comedy show. When she maneuvered herself so that she could sit on the couch next to him, her worst suspicions were confirmed.

Saying he was “watching” anything on TV was a stretch. From the listless expression on his face and the deadened look in his eyes, she could tell he was seeing right through the television set.

Satsuki exhaled slowly through her nose. Even though she liked this show normally as well, she couldn’t focus at all on any of the jokes.

She opened her mouth to say something but no words came forth. She’d already asked him everything she could think of on the trek home and none of it had earned her an answer from him.

Making small talk didn’t seem right either.

Trying to cheer him up when she had no clue what got him in this state to begin with was just stupid. It would just be empty words.

She was sure it had something to do with Tetsu-kun because he seemed to stiffen whenever Satsuki mentioned him. But everything beyond that was simply conjecture on her part. Seeing as Daiki refused to give her any information to work with.

She wished she could help, but she had no idea how.

So she clamped her mouth shut and curled her fingers into fists on the couch.

“Where are Auntie and Uncle?” she thought to ask at last, when the show ended. Neither of Dai-chan’s parents was in sight, which was rare in itself.

A long moment of silence stretched between them, filled only with the nonsensical music and plots of the TV commercials.

“No clue,” Dai-chan finally said.

It was the first time she had heard him speak since coming back to him that night. She disliked how his voice was scratchy and quiet.

They stayed like that, not breathing a word to each other for a good fifteen minutes or more. Just sitting next to one another without even acknowledging the other’s presence for what felt like an eternity.

The equilibrium was broken when Daiki keeled sideways without any preamble. His head fell right across Satsuki’s thighs.

She stiffened at once. Her immediate instinct was to smack him or push him off—or both—and demand what in the world he thought he was up to.

But then, during her moment of indecision, she saw that he still had that stony, listless look. She could only half of his face but his profile was still set in that worrisome expression. She realized it was definitely no ploy that he had read in any of his idiotic magazines. He probably hadn’t even done it on purpose.

This realization made her edginess syphon right out of her system and instead she relaxed back into the couch, allowing Dai-chan to use her lap as a pillow without complaint.

The next show started—some kind of history drama. She found herself unwittingly following what the characters on screen were doing for lack of anything else to busy herself with.

She was loath to admit it, but feeling Dai-chan physically closer did make her clenched heart ease up a bit.

When she shifted her magenta eyes to study his profile from above, Satsuki let out another long sigh. She had never seen Dai-chan like this and it was tearing her apart. She had no clue what had happened but she could bet it had something to do with Tetsu-kun and whatever had made Daiki snap during practice.

She had been feeling this unease about the team for a while now. With Dai-chan’s steep improvement, that anxiety had deepened exponentially. She saw earlier that day that this tension had not been something she imagined. Not when the normally docile Mukkun had ended up talking back and even challenged Akashi-kun.

Satsuki hated to think that it was possible that Dai-chan and Tetsu-kun had had a falling out. Yet all the facts pointed to it. Tetsu-kun had taken off in search for Dai-chan and then he hadn’t come back for a long time. That’s why she had rushed off to look for both of them after practice was over.

The pink-haired girl bit her lip hard to keep any more disconcerting thoughts at bay. She could only imagine how hard a blow it would be for Dai-chan—having a falling out with Tetsu-kun at a time that was already hard for him.

Before she could start pondering if it was a good or bad idea to allow Dai-chan to continue using her lap as a pillow, her left hand acted as though with a mind of its own.

It unclenched from her side and set itself gently upon Daiki’s freshly washed hair.

She turned her attention back to the show on the TV, content to just pet Dai-chan’s hair while he lay on her lap. Like an overgrown pet cat. Or a small worrisome child.

When the commercial break came around, she heard him speak for the second time since dinner.

“I was very cruel earlier.”

It was an admission.

Whether to her or to himself, Satsuki didn’t know. All she did know was that she had never heard Dai-chan speak in such a voice before. Ever. And she’d spent almost every waking moment with him for over ten years.

“But that’s okay,” he murmured forlornly. “Because that guy was cruel to me before that. So I just…” The navy-haired boy’s voice trailed off slowly, never finishing the thought.

Satsuki held her tongue, forcing herself to keep her innate curiosity at bay. She wanted to know what happened between them, but more than that, she wanted Dai-chan to get over whatever it was.

So she just hummed in agreement and continued petting Dai-chan’s spiky hair until he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

x.x.x.x.x.x

That was how the dream came to an end.

It was abrupt, and painful. Like a car crash or a train wreck.

It wasn’t something anyone had wished for, but it came all the same.

Their bonds grew cold and then slowly began to unwind. The basketball that they had so loved playing together turned into a vile competition thanks to all the swirling twisted emotions of the first stringers.

It was painful to even look at.

Satsuki was sure that it was even more painful to be in the middle of it.

She couldn’t even imagine how the fall out had hurt Tetsu-kun, because she saw him more and more rarely after that.

Perhaps he got even better at his misdirection if he was under the weather—or he was simply avoiding her. She wasn’t sure which of those it was… nor which was worse.

Dai-chan, however—Dai-chan she knew and she could see how this all was twisting him beyond belief. She hated seeing him like this—hurt and broody, standoffish and listless all the time.

He dropped the catatonic thing the very next day but in exchange, there was zero luster in everything he did. No spirit. No fire. Not even a spark.

What was even worse was that it felt like Daiki started avoiding her, too. They started to very rarely spend any time together anymore—something she would’ve never wished for.

The shittiest part was that sometimes, she felt relieved to be away from him. She did, because on the rare occasions they headed home at the same time, or accidentally met up at Maji Burger after school, she was at a loss what to talk to him about. The atmosphere between them was strained and stifling. Something that had never happened to them before—or, at least, not to this extent.

Satsuki was a smart girl, so she could come up with plenty of neutral topics to talk about. Non-painful ones. Non-taboo ones.

However, that was beside the point when her childhood friend wasn’t even paying attention to the conversation. He was always wistfully staring at some patch of nothing in the distance, refusing to meet her eye.

Once, he even told her that it was enough. That she didn’t need to try so hard. Not when he couldn’t reciprocate the effort.

That was the last time she could remember heading home with him in the past month or longer.

He didn’t attend even a single practice after that, yet infallibly showed to all the games. He played and he steamrolled through his opponents as though they weren’t even there. He won without cracking even a single smirk, not to mention the blinding smile that he used to wear permanently when he played before.

The basketball that he had so loved for years became something of a mundane chore.

It was unbelievable. It was excruciating to witness.

Yet just like the good times they had enjoyed, Satsuki convinced herself that the bad times would pass as well.

She just had to brave through it. As long as it took. She would brave through it and pray that both Dai-chan and their friendship would make it through this trial in one piece as well.

She was starting to worry that the sarcastic lackluster was beginning to get ingrained into her childhood friend’s character.

Worse still, she had a sinking feeling that both of them were starting to get used to being away from one another.

That would be all fine and dandy with Satsuki if either of them was the better for it, but that was not the case. Daiki was becoming increasingly listless at school and playing hooky more often as a result of that. She felt like she hadn’t heard him laugh in ages.

She, on the other hand, felt like her whole being was clenched twenty-four seven. Like she was bracing for an impact that was yet to come. Like she couldn’t relax for even a second.

Seeing him the way he was pained Satsuki greatly. So she stuck with his plan of avoiding her for her own sake as well.

Yet nothing about school was fun anymore. Not classes, not gathering basketball data that she seemed to have a penchant for. Daiki always arrived just before a game started so he never cared to listen to her strategies. He claimed he didn’t need an additional edge against opponents who were already too weak for him to begin with.

It hurt her, but she understood. And although she could understand his reasoning, that didn’t make it any less painful. She couldn’t share her own blossoming talent with the person she most cared to share it with. It felt like yet another large gash in their already bleeding bond.

Every day at Teikou after the second year nationals felt to Satsuki like she was drowning in tar. Heavy, sticky, disgusting, yet weighing you down and making it impossible to surface.

The only positive thing about the situation was that Auntie didn’t seem remotely as worried about her son as the pink-haired girl was.

The elder female dismissed it simply as Dai-chan hitting his “rebellious age” and didn’t fret over it further.

Of course, that didn’t stop the woman from loudly lamenting in her son’s presence how un-cute he had become with this permanent chip on his shoulder and eternally wrinkled brow.

Something that never failed to elicit an angry reaction from said teen.

When it did, Satsuki almost felt they would all be okay, regardless how grim things seemed in the moment.

x.x.x.x.x.x

lucid

/ˈluːsɪd/

showing or having the ability to think clearly, especially in intervals between periods of confusion or insanity.

In wake of the heartbreak that was Teikou basketball—and the rift it opened between Satsuki and her closest friend—the pink-haired manager ended up with too much time to herself.

This granted her the perfect opportunity to observe anything and everything that she so pleased. She could see how many scouts came from schools all over the country, striving to grab one of the graduating Miracles for themselves and their own teams.

And although they were competing for the boys, the scouts all approached different players.

She was impressed with how meticulous they were, especially with how several of the schools had come to know that Mukkun and Akashi-kun were moving out of Tokyo to different locations. Only the Akita schools approached Mukkun, while only the Kyoto-situated ones approached their captain.

She could also see the myriad of schools that tried to nab her childhood friend—yet somehow never managed to.

The pink-haired teen researched a lot of them even before their coaches dropped by Teikou to speak to Dai-chan. She had considered joining some of those schools herself for reasons other than basketball.

The girl was always endlessly surprised when all the scouts infallibly went home with sour expressions conveying their failure to accomplish the goal of their trip to Teikou.

When the tenth set of scouts left in a tiff after talking to the ace, Satsuki couldn’t help herself anymore. She sought him out and—with some relief at how quickly she’d managed it—found him in his favorite spot: the school rooftop.

Where students were normally not allowed to be loitering.

Not that that had ever stopped her troublemaking companion.

She asked him why he had denied yet another set of scouts, only to be taken aback by his response.

It wasn’t that he had said no. He had simply posed a condition that no team in its right mind would agree to.

He told every single scout so far that he would follow the current Teikou policy. In other words, he’d attend games, but not practice. Something that Akashi and the rest of the management condoned. Something that was perhaps okay in the world of middle school basketball.

Yet Satsuki couldn’t imagine how it could ever be acceptable in high school.

Thus, choosing a school became the last of her priorities for much longer than it should have.

What with graduation being in just over a month worth of time and Satsuki not having selected any schools that were worth her trouble.

“So, Sacchan, have you decided what school you’re going to attend?” her mother asked her over dinner one day, about a month before graduation.

Satsuki sucked on her chopsticks thoughtfully.

“I’ve been considering it, but there haven’t been any contenders that caught my eye yet.” She tapped the sticks to her bottom lip, momentarily reminded of said schools. All of them were basketball powerhouses that were yet to reject Dai-chan’s stupid condition.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t like she had all that much time to make her choice.

“Hmmm, really?” her mother pondered. The older woman’s retort grabbed her daughter’s attention anew. “I’m just surprised because I thought you guys had come up with this together.”

Satsuki cocked a confused brow at that. Her head tilted sideways with the effort of understanding what was being said.

“I’m sorry, mom—I don’t think I follow this conversation at all,” the pink-haired girl admitted at length.

“I heard from the Aomines that Dai-chan is going on to Touou Academy,” her mother explained.

This surprised Satsuki.

“What?” She hadn’t heard anything about this from the guy himself.

Not overly surprising considering how little time they spent together nowadays. But still. This was the kind of thing you shared with your friend of a lifetime who is a lifetime, wasn’t it?!

“Who said that?” she demanded—only slightly defensively.

“Dai-chan told his mother himself, a week ago,” the elder Momoi elaborated, placing her chin atop her hand. She leant her weight into her elbow propped upon the dining table. “Apparently he met with the coach and the current captain of the basketball team. It’s some kind of ambitious soon-to-be powerhouse for basketball or something. They scouted him personally because of how well you guys are doing in Teikou.”

Her mother waved her other hand as though dismissing the matter.

“Anyway, apparently they want him in their team and Dai-chan decided he’d accept their offer. It’s pretty nice, since Touou is closer to us than Teikou. I was just wondering if you’d go to the same school again.”

For some reason, Satsuki’s blood was pumping in her ears. Her heart was thrumming uncomfortably in her chest. Her vision was blurring and things weren’t making sense anymore.

She was hearing about Daiki’s high school of choice from her mother.

Who had heard about it from Daiki’s mother.

…What the hell?

Was he even planning of telling her himself?

How big had the rift between them become without her knowledge?

Was he perhaps thinking of shunning her and going on to school on his own for the next three years?

What the hell was this?

Any team that would agree to her friend’s ludicrous demand would be clinically insane. Satsuki was convinced that no such team existed.

If anything, she had believed that after he ran all of the scouts off with his idiocy, he would have to face the truth of the matter. Perhaps even get set straight by a stronger, better, team-oriented school club in high school.

When he ran out of schools to get scouted by, he would have to apply himself.

And then he wouldn’t be able to choose because he would be left with nothing of worth.

He would have to realize that what was going on at Teikou was abnormal and intolerable by any other school.

So where the hell did that Touou Academy come from? And how exactly were they okay with Daiki’s complete disinterest in becoming part of a team?

No matter how good he got, basketball was still a team-oriented sport.

A team was something that he would never be able to become part of if he never attended practice.

It was mind-boggling.

And why in the world had the navy-haired ace not told her about his decision himself? Damn it! He had had an entire week to come out with it.

And she had had to learn it from her mother.

Satsuki realized that she was acting weirdly when her parent lifted her brows at her, urging the girl for a response to her earlier question.

“No, this is the first I hear about this,” Satsuki confessed, setting her rice bowl and chopsticks down. Her appetite had suddenly disappeared. “So, no, we haven’t discussed it.”

They hadn’t discussed anything for the past two weeks, which was when she’d asked him about the scouts last.

The realization that the gulf between them may have been significantly larger than Satsuki believed initially chilled the girl to the bone. She had believed this to have been merely an unpleasant phase that their friendship was undergoing—something they would shake off by the time graduation rolled about.

Now, the pink-haired youth had to face the fact that perhaps she was mistaken.

Perhaps what her friend of a lifetime wanted was something else altogether.

Satsuki was no fool. She had never been able to lie to her mother, nor mislead her about her emotional state. In fact, on too many occasions in the past year she had cried herself to sleep in her mother’s embrace because of the stupid shit happening in Teikou.

Thus there was no way that the woman was oblivious to the play of emotions on her offspring’s face. Nor was she blind to the taut line her lips had become.

And, like a true Momoi woman, Mrs. Momoi pressed right to the heart of the matter.

“Do you not want to go to the same school as Daiki anymore, dear?”

This made Satsuki’s father look up from the TV he was watching across the dining table to fix his child with a level look.

The pink-haired girl pondered her answer—did she want to go to a different school?

Did she no longer want to go to the same school as Dai-chan?

If she wasn’t there every day, she wouldn’t have to feel this pain. If she didn’t see him as much, she wouldn’t have to feel so hurt all the time. She could put some more distance between them and find something other than basketball to fill her time with.

She wouldn’t have to be avoided and to avoid somebody for weeks on end. She wouldn’t have this stifling feeling that something was fundamentally wrong with the world because of what happened to her on a daily basis.

She wouldn’t have to keep nagging a certain someone to keep doing his duties. She wouldn’t have to explain to the new people around them why he called her familiarly by just her given name without any honorifics. She wouldn’t have to keep clearing misunderstandings all the time.

She would be able to enjoy just a normal high school life on her own.

On her own… Did she really want that though?

Satsuki wasn’t sure anymore.

These past couple of years had taken their toll on her, too. If you had asked her when she started attending Teikou, she would’ve answered without hesitation that she wanted to be together with everyone: with Dai-chan, and Tetsu-kun, and Midorin, and Mukkun, and Akashi-kun, and Ki-chan…

But now… Now she wasn’t certain if she wanted to be together with any of them.

The more staggering realization was that she was no longer sure if the person she had shared her school life with for the past nine years wanted her to be in his any longer or not.

Attending the same school as Tetsu-kun did hold a certain appeal though. Was he also going to Touou, she wondered. That would really be awesome. Maybe in high school those two would be able to reconcile their issues, whatever they were.

Yet, somehow, that seemed unlikely. Both the idea of the boys working out their differences, and that Tetsu-kun would go to the same high school as Dai-chan.

Not after that rainy afternoon when everything fell apart.

Not after the dream ended.

“I don’t know,” Satsuki said out loud after some careful deliberation. “I have to think about it.” She got up from her chair. It made a screeching sound as it slid against the floor. “And I’m angry that he didn’t tell me about it himself.”

She bowed and excused herself from the dinner table under her parents’ understanding gazes.

x.x.x.x.x.x

“Satsuki,” her best friend drawled as they arrived at the destination he had had in mind when he fetched her from class.

The rooftop, where he spent most of his time over the past year.

“What?” she retorted sharply.

“I’m gonna go to Touou Academy in spring.” He said it evenly, in a monotone that betrayed nothing. His expression did much the same. “I got scouted. The coach and the captain agreed to my conditions. So I’ve decided to enroll there.”

She gave him an even stare, not yet saying a word.

“From what I hear, all of the Generation of Miracles are getting picked up by different schools.” His gaze broke from hers then. His azure eyes rolled to the side, pinning to a particularly uninteresting cloud to the right. “I’m sure Tetsu is going a separate way as well.”

Not that he would know for certain. He hadn’t spoken—or even tried to—with Tetsu-kun in weeks.

The cretin!

Not that for all her trying to get a hold of the elusive boy, Satsuki had had much success.

If the phantom sixth man wanted to not be found, he wouldn’t be found.

She’d discovered that the hard way.

“So, I guess, what I’m saying is,” the navy-haired ace started again as he folded his arms behind his head, “you should also choose what school you want to go to.”

This made her raise her eyebrows in surprise.

She couldn’t gauge his expression any further, though, because the next moment he laid on his back on the rooftop again, returning to his cloud gazing.

It pissed Satsuki right off.

Who the hell died and made Dai-chan king, huh?

Where did he get off playing it like he was so cool as all that?!

So, was this how it was: what he was saying was that everyone was going their way, and she should choose her own. Right?!

And since all of the Generation of Miracles were going all over the place, as their little “satellite”, she should, too?

Right?!

That was what he was saying here, wasn’t he?

It was like he was deliberately trying to push her away.

The little ingrate!

As if he would have the faintest chance of getting through high school he kept up his present act. If she wasn’t there to pull him through the classes, no matter how good of a ball player he was, should he get expelled from school it would be over.

Not to mention how hopeless he was at the motions of actually showing up for classes or practice.

Or matches.

Who did he think he was?!

He was just idiot Dai-chan, who couldn’t do a damn thing for himself lately when it came to school and the like!

And now he had the gall to all but tell her to hit the road.

Ungrateful bastard!

“Ahhh, is that so? Everyone is going wherever, so I should do the same, ehh?” she ground out between her clenched teeth. The pink-haired manager stomped over to where Daiki was laying and she glared down at him with her arms still crossed under her chest. “The Generation of Miracles is breaking apart, so I should take the hint and run for the woods, too. Is that it?”

Her closest friend blinked a few times in confusion at her, then shrugged.

“Not really. Just do whatever you want. That’s what we’re all doing, so why shouldn’t you?”

The listlessness in his eyes was what got to her. It was both like a cry for help and a shove on her back towards the door.

It confused the shit out of her.

And it rendered her incapable of being angry anymore.

“Is that why you didn’t tell me about the Touou scout?” she demanded, anger still lacing her voice. “So I could decide for myself?”

He merely shrugged and refused to elaborate any further.

She didn’t know where this attitude was coming from, but she wasn’t caring for it. If this was some elaborate scheme to push her away, it wasn’t working now that she could see through it.

But other than the cynicism and pretend carelessness, she could see in his face that he meant it. She could do what she pleased, without any account for anybody else.

She was free. Free of him, free from basketball, free to choose whatever her heart desired. He wouldn’t hold it against her if she decided to walk away now.

Not after all they’d been through these past couple of years.

Satsuki sucked on a breath and held it in for a long time.

She was free to do as she wanted.

But would going to a school where no one knew her and she knew nobody something that she wanted? Did she want to start going out on a limb now?

No longer even a satellite of any of the Generation of Miracles? No longer part of a childhood duo that did everything together.

She wouldn’t have to make regimens and plan the improvement of high school boys’ basketball capabilities. Not unless she decided she wanted to join a basketball club in high school that did not feature Dai-chan, for once. Not unless she wanted to be making regimens and improvement plans for boys who would play against her childhood friend, eventually.

A chilling idea.

A school without Dai-chan.

She’d no longer see him slouching in his seat that would fit him less and less the older and sturdier he got. She would no longer have to drag him to class every morning. She’d no longer hunt through the entire school building to find where he had hidden from her in order not to go to practice.

She’d no longer get to see him in the corridor if they got thrown in separate classes.

She’d no longer get to see him play his own kind of basketball that she’d grown attached to over the years. Even if it had become deformed in the past two years at Teikou.

She’d no longer know if he had been crying on his own in the rain for hours next time.

Because she wouldn’t know where to find him, nor would she know whether he’s going through some kind of painful experience in Touou Academy, should she choose to go elsewhere.

She would grow apart from him, no longer knowing the secret places he went to hide from the rest of the world. No longer needing to be there for him when he was down.

No longer needing to worry if he was down at all.

It would no longer be her concern.

But would it become anyone else’s? Or would Daiki end up crying on his own all afternoon next time, with no one finding him? Without anyone to pick him up in rain?

Without a soul at school caring if he was carrying a heavy burden or not?

She exhaled the air she had been holding on to as she pictured that mental scape.

A school without Dai-chan in it.

A school where Dai-chan would be without her, too.

What fun would that ever be?

Daiki opened one eye to glimpse at her when she said nothing for the longest time. She righted her posture and turned her face away from him. The navy-haired boy on the concrete cocked an eyebrow at her.

Not that she saw his quizzical look.

“I see then,” she allowed slowly, cryptically. “I am free to do as I please then. That’s great.”

She pointedly ignored the searching glance of her childhood friend from her side.

“Thank you so much for your consideration. I shall proceed to do just that!” she announced before waltzing off towards the door that led back inside the school.

If Daiki wanted to know what her decision had been, he didn’t ask.

And if he wouldn’t ask, she wasn’t going to tell him.

Let him roast a bit, the idiot, she thought to herself with a petty huff.

She didn’t have time to deal with her troublesome childhood friend right now anyway. She had a lot of research and data compilation to do. So it was a good thing he didn’t ask.

Right then, Satsuki had a rising basketball powerhouse to impress!

x.x.x.x.x.x

The next day offered a very rare experience to Satsuki.

For once, she was the one sought out by her childhood friend during lunch break.

He was leaning against the wall just outside the girls’ bathroom in school when she came out from it.

“Hey, Satsuki?” Daiki piped up when she came out.

She eyed him indifferently, smoothing down her skirt.

“What is it, Aomine-kun?” she humored him with a reply, striding off in direction of their classroom without pause.

He followed after her, hands in his pockets and loose posture. He was the picture of nonchalance itself.

But he wasn’t fooling her.

She was certain—without room for any doubt—that it was gnawing at him.

She had specifically instructed both of her parents to not tell Auntie or Uncle so the information wouldn’t leak back to him.

All Dai-chan knew was that she’d gone to an interview with some high school.

He was none the wiser which one it was.

She smirked to herself. Serves you right. Roast some more!

“So where are you going to go for high school?” he asked, his tone sounding uninterested. It wasn’t going to work, though. “You must’ve decided already, right? There’s less than a month to graduation.”

Satsuki was a proper and diligent student. There was no way that she hadn’t made arrangements for her next step in education.

She gave him a saccharine smile.

“Of course I have, Aomine-kun! Not having taken steps by now would be irresponsible of me!”

“So where are you going?” he urged her on, his façade of nonchalance slipping slightly.

The pink-haired girl’s smile widened until she was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Well, you’ll just have to find out when the time comes, won’t you?”

Daiki stopped in his tracks, staring at her back in disbelief.

“You won’t tell me?”

“And ruin the surprise? Why in the world would I do that?” Satsuki shot back without pausing her step.

The sliding door to their third year class room opened to the befuddled face of one Aomine Daiki. The latter looked like a mystical creature had just smacked him in the face.

And then the sliding door closed with an air of finality.

x.x.x.x.x.x

The clapping filled the entire gymnasium. There were a lot of girls crying.

Among them were Satsuki’s two fellow managers of the basketball club—the second and third string managers.

She understood why for them it was a sad thing to be graduating from Teikou. Yet she had a hard time sharing the sentiment.

If anything, she felt a bit of relief.

Starting next semester, she wouldn’t have to live within the suffocating atmosphere of this school.

The pink-haired girl looked around quickly to locate Dai-chan in the crowd of students lining up to leave the gymnasium.

“Congratulations on graduating, Aomine-kun!” she chirped merrily, saluting him with her rolled up diploma case.

“Yeah, yeah. Congratulations, I guess,” her childhood friend agreed, rubbing his neck with a wide yawn. “I thought I’d die from the principle’s long ass speech.”

Satsuki laughed. She could relate, but she would never say so to him.

“He has a tendency to go off on tangents, doesn’t he?” She grinned at her taller friend in a sly manner. “However, when I say congratulations to you, it’s not just common courtesy.” When she was met with the questioning look on Dai-chan’s face, she couldn’t stop herself from giggling. “After all, you played hooky so many times I started wondering if they won’t hold you back a year. I was starting to plan what to do if you ended up being my underclassman in two years at Touou.”

This earned her a hardened glare from her companion.

“Stop mouthing off however you please, idiot!” he reprimanded her as she merrily tittered to herself.

She ran ahead of him before he could swat at her with his diploma case.

“If you were going to go to Touou, too, you should’ve just said so from the start!” Dai-chan all but whined from behind her, making her stop running from him. Instead, she turned around and gave him the widest grin she could.

“No way. This was so much more fun!”

“Kise-kun! I want to take a parting photo with you!”

“Me too!”

Satsuki’s attention was briefly derailed as she looked at the mob of girls surrounding Ki-chan.

“Oh wow…” was all she could manage.

“Jeez…” Dai-chan said with a sigh next to her, not pausing his stride as he walked past the scene.

She could only imagine that this mob of girls would only continue to expand in Kaijou. After all, Ki-chan wasn’t even done growing yet and he was already this handsome. She’d seen him on several covers of fashion magazines over the past year. And the more he matured, the more magazines would want to have a piece of him.

His fan base, surely, would grow exponentially to reflect that.

Thinking of the Generation of Miracles, she remembered with relief something from the graduation ceremony.

“By the way… He came, didn’t he,” she started. She knew full well that Dai-chan would follow her train of thought perfectly even if she didn’t say whom she meant. “I was wondering what I’d do if he didn’t show up to graduation either…” she muttered, throwing a cursory glance at Dai-chan’s profile. “I’m so glad…”

“Huh…” was the only thing Dai-chan said in response as he kept trudging away from the gymnasium and the mad throngs of girls surrounding Kise and several other of the “popular boys and girls” from their school.

He had indeed seen Kuroko’s teal-haired head sticking out in the rows of boys in front of him.

Daiki refused to admit to feeling relieved, though.

“Y’know, I thought for sure you’d go to the same school as Tetsu,” he said loudly as he picked up the pace of his strides. “Cause it’s you, Satsuki.”

His pink-haired companion seemed to falter in her step behind him a bit before jogging to catch up with him.

“W-what?! I couldn’t, because I couldn’t leave my idiotic childhood friend on his own!” she all but shrieked at him in her embarrassment.

In being unable to catch up with his pace, the former Teikou manager missed the sincere smile that stretched on the ex-ace’s face.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, waving off her mother hen act.

Stifling the grin that threatened to erupt on his face proved one of the hardest things Daiki had had to do in a while.

After all, Satsuki had chosen to continue her school life alongside him, not Tetsu. If that wasn’t the best victory all year, he didn’t know what was.

Nevertheless, he still had to get back at her for grilling him with suspense until the last moment.

He’d be damned before he allowed her to see him celebrate the fact they’d be classmates next year (and the two after them), too.

x.x.x.x.x.x

lucid

/ˈluːsɪd/

expressed clearly; easy to understand.

Daiki honestly couldn’t understand why his mother and Satsuki’s mother loved doing this.

Every single time.

Every time they joined a new school, the two women would just keep pestering them to take pictures at the front gate after the entrance ceremony ended.

They would always arrange the picture in the same way, positioning both him and Satsuki in the same manner next to the school nameplate. They would keep taking picture after picture, until he stopped making a grimace and just went along with their nonsense.

Until he “stopped spoiling their fun”, as they would say.

Daiki huffed as he took his rehearsed position to Satsuki’s right and to the left of the school nameplate. He was amazed how his childhood friend didn’t find this bothersome to no end as well. It seemed terribly stupid to him.

Yet… Daiki felt incredibly grateful to be able to do this again with her and her family this year.

He’d come so close to being unable to share this moment—and the next three years’ worth of any moments—with her that even the stupid nonsense their mothers did seemed like a great initiative to him now.

So they managed to take the picture properly on the first try, without any grumbling and complaining on his part.

“Oh? Dai-chan seems to be in an agreeable mood today!” Mrs. Momoi enthused with a wide smile after taking the picture.

Mrs. Aomine chuckled next to her.

“Maybe he just learned the futility of his efforts,” she suggested evilly, sharing a mean little giggle with her friend.

Daiki eyed them dispassionately, wishing he could silence them with just a look and lamenting his inability to do so.

“Wow, so this is the school we’re going to be attending from tomorrow on, huh?” Satsuki said reverently, pulling Daiki out of his daydream.

He looked towards the building that had her undivided attention. Then he shifted his cerulean gaze to her face instead.

There was a small breeze, which ruffled her hair and made it billow around her like she was some sort of spring mirage. The cherry blossom petals fell like snow around them. Some of them got stuck in her hair, which in turn framed her face beautifully. She didn’t mind any of those details while she looked on towards a future he could not picture.

Daiki had known that his childhood friend was an exquisite girl in more ways than one. He’d known that for a long time.

Yet, standing next to her amidst the cherry blossoms in spring, he couldn’t help but realize anew how much she had grown.

How she’d matured from a cute kid to a dashingly pretty girl.

This was not some great epiphany for Daiki. Neither was it the first time he’d caught himself thinking of his childhood friend as something more than that.

No. He’d known it for years.

He was in love with her and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

He’d gone through some awkward phases in his day—back in elementary school when he realized it first—but since then he’d learnt to accept the fact.

He was in love with his best friend and it wasn’t something he could consciously change.

Not while she continued being herself. Not when they continued to be inseparable.

This didn’t cause Daiki any heartache. Neither did the fact he was aware she didn’t feel the same way.

Nor that she likely never would.

It was something he had always known. Satsuki was in love with Tetsu—or she would finally realize it was pointless, and fall in love with someone else—while he would continue to sport his one-sided feelings for her.

It was the inevitable truth of the matter. But it was fine – he’d long since made his peace with it. He no longer attempted to fight it.

So what if she didn’t return his feelings? So what if she would grow to love someone else soon enough?

He wasn’t going to fight it, nor suffer because of it. He refused to.

Instead he lived with what he got.

A girl too good for him, who—by some insane luck—somehow still wanted to stay with him.

Even if she didn’t feel the same, it didn’t matter. Because she stayed with him.

Not with her crush, Tetsu.

Not with any of her friends from Teikou.

She chose him.

For that, he would always be grateful to her.

He wished he could feel happy about it, but his soul felt too blackened.

She deserved better, but she still stayed.

And that was all that mattered to him.

Even if he could no longer laugh with her the way he used to. Even if he would never allow to breathe a word of his feelings to her—not when he had become this ugly, twisted version of himself that he hated in wake of Teikou.

Even if he was empty inside, he could always find her within himself.

She defined him in a way that he would never be able to put into words.

And for that, he was grateful.

Satsuki turned her face to him, noticing he was staring at her whilst she had been lost in thought. Her expression softened, her head tilting to the side a bit.

“What is it?” she asked him. “Is there something on my face?” she queried with mirth bubbling in her voice.

Daiki shook his head.

“No.” He then continued after a heartbeat of pause, “In your hair.”

“Oh,” Satsuki reached a hand up to her hair to shake off whatever it was. “Did I get it out?”

Daiki threw a quick sideways glance to see his parents and Satsuki’s huddled over their cameras and phones. Knowing the lot of them, they were probably debating where all six of them should go in order to celebrate the kids’ formal entry into Touou.

“No, you didn’t,” he said truthfully, moving to reach around her. “Let me.”

His arm circled around her shoulders and his fingers detangled the cherry blossom petals with care and gentleness that Satsuki had not expected to receive. The way his arm was angled it almost felt like an embrace rather than him just doing her a simple favor.

She looked up into Daiki’s face which was suddenly very close to her own. She blinked her keen magenta eyes at him as he studiously removed all the wayward petals that had woven themselves in her hair.

The pink-haired girl wondered how an action so mundane and ordinary could suddenly feel so strangely intimate. Especially between them, who had known each other forever.

“There,” Dai-chan then said, pulling her attention back to present time. “All gone.”

“Thanks, Dai-chan,” she retorted softly with a smile.

Instead of retrieving his arm, he placed his palm atop her head in a tender pat.

He proceeded to pull her closer, until her forehead was all but pressed against the shoulder of the arm that was keeping her to him. He bowed his head to bring his mouth as close to her ear as he could without actually touching his lips to her lobe.

“Thank you, Satsuki.”

He said it quietly, so that no one could overhear. He said it like a sacred prayer, meant only for her ears to behold.

“Thank you,” he repeated in the same disarming way before relinquishing his hold on her.

She would’ve laughed and asked him what he was being so polite for. She would’ve asked what was with him, being so random all of a sudden and creeping her out with it.

But the look in his eyes when he let go of her prevented her from acting like her usual self.

There was something so tender in his expression that she couldn’t bring herself to dismiss what had just happened.

Whatever it was.

She wasn’t sure what she’d done to warrant his thanks—especially since he had been the one doing something for her not even a minute prior.

But she couldn’t find her words in order to ask.

Just as quickly as it had come, the inscrutable moment and Dai-chan’s uncharacteristic expression were gone. He pivoted on his heel, turning his back to her and stalking off in direction of their parents.

“I’ll be in your care this year as well,” he called out loudly over his shoulder, lifting his hand in idle greeting. “Thanks in advance.”

It took Satsuki a moment longer to shake off the disorientation from… whatever happened between them just then. She grinned and ran after him.

“Looking forward to being in your care this year as well!”

If only Dai-chan could continue to be in such a good mood the whole year, she thought, that would be truly grand.

x.x.x.x.x.x

Of course, as Satsuki’s rotten luck would have it, there was no way that navy-haired boy’s good mood could stretch enough to cover his basketball activities.

True to their word, Touou’s team didn’t force him to attend practice if he didn’t want to. They had attached a nonsensical “you can skip practice if you have a good reason” rule, but that was less than pointless.

Not when Dai-chan kept coming up with idiotic ways to dodge by claiming he was sick, or needing to run errands for his family, or whatever.

He was still prancing around the court, undefeated. He acted all high and mighty and did as he pleased, because no one could really talk back to him as long as he won them games. That had been the agreement, after all. He was holding up his end of the deal, so there was no need to Touou to lay down the law as long as things went smoothly.

No matter how many practices he skipped out on, his performance on the court didn’t suffer for it. Or rather, even if it did, there was no opponent for which Dai-chan couldn’t take his sweet time, getting into gear for one or two quarters.

And once he did get up to speed, he’d plough through any and all opponents. No defense would be able to stop him from taking point after point from them until Touou ended with an overwhelming, crushing victory.

He still kept spouting that bullshit about being the only one who could defeat himself.

Did he even listen to himself before he said shit like that? Satsuki couldn’t help but wonder. He probably didn’t, she surmised, because if he did, he would realize how he was embarrassing himself with lines like that.

What an idiot.

Couldn’t someone please save him from himself instead?

Satsuki pleaded for that every day.

She didn’t know in what form salvation could possibly come.

A lifetime together had proven that having people talk sense into Dai-chan was physically impossible. Knocking sense into him physically would only result in a brawl that—she was loath to admit—Dai-chan would probably win. (On top of which nothing productive would result, because he would get suspended from club activities—something that he probably would love.)

So Satsuki couldn’t help but think that the only way to knock sense into the idiot was to actually beat him in a game.

Then again it was hard to imagine anyone being able to do so.

This, of course, didn’t stop her from praying.

Praying that Tetsu-kun’s new team could beat Dai-chan.

Praying that Ki-chan’s new team could beat Dai-chan.

Praying that if all else failed, Akashi-kun crushing them in a final or semi-final would wake him up.

Praying that any of them could beat him, yet coming up empty-handed time and time again. For almost an entire year.

Until the Winter Cup official games came around… and her wishes got granted.

x.x.x.x.x.x

After their loss at the Winter Cup, it was truly amazing how quickly that affected Dai-chan.

What Satsuki meant, of course, was his desire to practice and the once before compulsive need to buy new basketball shoes.

Two lines she hadn’t heard for years and which, for a very long time, had very much defined her childhood friend.

Of course, the fact that he felt the need to practice didn’t mean that he actually came to school basketball practice all the time.

In fact, Satsuki wasn’t quite sure what practice he had meant, because his appearances to club practice were just as sparse after their loss at the Winter Cup official games as before that. It made her feel cheated and more disappointed than she would ever let on.

That had been before she found out that Dai-chan had been unable to sleep for a week after their loss to Seirin.

Once he started getting some sleep, he did show up to practice more often.

After Seirin won the championship, though, (regardless of the fact she had had to twist his arm into it once or twice) Dai-chan started to attend almost every practice.

She wondered if his realization about the true Zone had anything to do with it. Or if he simply had finally settled back into a comfortable state of wanting to improve once again.

Satsuki didn’t particularly blame him. She had expected a loss—especially one at the hands of Tetsu-kun—to work well, but not as if it were a magic trick. She had believed it would take time for habits that had become second nature to be uprooted and turned on their head. This was why she didn’t begrudge Dai-chan the times he was late for practice or went up to the roof on instinct.

However, after the captain told him to just show up to practice, even if he didn’t play, things started changing very rapidly.

It was just like Dai-chan to be unable to help himself whenever there were so many basketballs dribbling and flying about.

It was just like Dai-chan to stay away from the gym on habit but then be unable to keep himself from playing on instinct.

If he had had qualms about practicing before, those quickly melted away with all of the captain’s quips about Kagami and a second loss at the hands of Seirin.

Satsuki had been a bit worried about Wakamatsu-san taking over leadership—what with his Dai-chan hate and all.

It came as a huge relief for the manager to see that the blonde had discovered the perfect way to manage their team’s whimsical ace.

She hadn’t expected too much immediately after the Winter Cup, yet the results were apparent.

By the time January came and went, the changes in Dai-chan were so vast and so rapid, she felt like her heart would burst with joy.

x.x.x.x.x.x

As if it wasn’t enough that Satsuki got what she had been praying for so fast, even greater changes came about with their second year of high school.

More specifically, with the addition of new recruits to the ranks of the Touou basketball team.

Everyone who came to Touou’s basketball club that following spring knew of the legend of Aomine Daiki.

The unstoppable scorer, the best ace the team had ever had. Aomine Daiki and his formless shooting, infallibly scoring from incredible positions. Aomine Daiki and his immense agility and indomitable drive to always win. Aomine Daiki, who hadn’t needed to practice to win in order to get his team in second place at the Inter High.

Aomine Daiki and the permanently bored and/or exasperated expression on his face as he did attend every single practice in second year. Aomine Daiki and his disinterest in listening to his captain’s orders, which in turn would become insubordination in carrying out those same. Which, subsequently, would become a shouting match for Wakamatsu-san, who believed that Dai-chan was simply doing these things to spite him.

Satsuki had been worried when the first years joined them that Dai-chan’s insubordination and penchant for truancy and mischief might put him on the freshmen’s bad side. What with his ability to get himself special treatment and get away with doing things that were inexcusable for any other player…

Let’s just say she could see how people who didn’t know the ace well enough might find him something of an eyesore.

And at first it did seem like her premonition had been spot on.

The first years did look weirdly at Daiki and strayed from having to team up with him for stretches and team exercises. They seemed to be intimidated both by stories of his exploits and unwilling to be subjected to his behavior, lest they start catching onto it as well.

At least that’s how it seemed in the beginning.

Only with the addition of enough encounters between the freshmen and Dai-chan did Satsuki come to realize that the boys looked up to her childhood friend like some kind of deity. They knew better than to try to talk back to coach Harasawa or the captain the way Dai-chan did, but they admired him for it all the same.

Once they got over their self-consciousness around him, they even started looking Dai-chan up for some basketball advice as well. Like how to improve their scoring ratio when shooting. Or how to become faster runners. Or better jumpers.

Satsuki giggled against her hand, which was currently holding her chopsticks. Daiki lazily opened up one eye and threw her a confused look.

“What are you laughing at like a crazy person for?” he drawled out, making his childhood friend face fault at once with his rude query.

“Don’t be an ass, Dai-chan,” she reprimanded him levelly, digging into her lunch box with renewed determination.

Her companion, who lay on the floor of the school roof next to her seated form, scoffed demonstratively and closed his eyes again.

“I’m not the one who just stands there and then bursts out laughing out of the blue,” he grumbled aloud before deciding to ignore the pink-haired girl.

His team’s manager glared at him from above and opted for giving him a slight shove in the shoulder with her foot as punishment.

“I didn’t just ‘burst out laughing out of the blue’, for your information.” Satsuki huffed to herself and popped an octopus-shaped wiener in her mouth. God bless her mother, an amazing cook—a talent Satsuki had (sadly) not inherited even a little. “I just remembered the look on the freshmen’s faces yesterday when they asked you to show them how to shoot better at the basket.”

She shook her head to herself in mirth as she once again gazed upon that scene in her mind’s eye.

“You’re a terrible teacher, Dai-chan!”

“Hey!” Daiki opened his eyes and threw his childhood friend an affronted glare. “It’s not my fault they can’t understand what I’m trying to teach them.”

“I guess you and basketball are proof of the proverb that a genius doesn’t understand how the incompetent feel.” She chuckled to herself again upon recalling the flabbergasted expressions on the freshmen’s faces when Daiki had attempted to show them the best ways to aim at the basket.

…A small lecture from which they seemed to have understood nothing.

Instead of trying to refute her in vain, the navy-haired teen simply grumbled back that if they manage to see any improvement in the boys’ scoring, then that would mean that he’s not as bad a teacher as she was making him out to be.

It took the freshmen another two meetings with Daiki after practice hours were over in order to improve their scoring ratios.

But when the improvement became evident, it was already drastic.

And from the fact that Dai-chan had been doggedly determined to help the boys out in their endeavor, it had only resulted in additional points in his favor in their eyes.

So they started looking him up for advice on non-basketball related matters as well. At first only during practice or breaks during practice.

Then it was during any recess that they cared to venture to the sophomores’ floor.

…Which was almost every recess, as long as they didn’t have other duties.

The boys asked his help, and sought out his opinion on all sorts of matters. From what kind of bread was best at their cafeteria, through what kind of underwear was most comfortable to wear, to what kind of gravure models they liked.

The fact they had Dai-chan mentoring their basketball growth meant that, of course, results were rife for the boys’ playstyles and improvement on the court.

But a by-product that came from them idolizing the ace and not letting him be ostracized by their class was that Dai-chan himself, in turn, started opening up more during practice towards team play.

Even though he has realized by the end of the last Winter Cup that there was no way to win some teams on his own, that hadn’t made it any easier for Daiki to work with the current Touou lineup. He felt awkward and possibly a bit repentant. He had promised Imayoshi-san that he was ready to become the best when he had joined Touou but the weakness in his heart had paved the way for the team’s loss at the very beginning of the Winter Cup games.

Knowing he had to restyle his basketball play in order to make it possible to incorporate into a team effort didn’t mean that it felt easy for the ace to finally start working with the players wearing the same jersey as him.

If anything, he had felt slightly self-conscious playing along with the second-years who had the potential of filling in the vacated positions by Susa-san and Imayoshi-san in the Touou starting lineup. This made for some clunky attempts at team play on Daiki’s side, which was awkward to witness.

Thus, when she saw the ace easily passing the ball back and forth between Sakurai-kun, Wakamatsu-san and the freshmen that were on his team during the five on five scramble, Satsuki’s eyes welled up with tears without warning.

Coach Harasawa, who was right next to her at the time, was quick to panic when the droplets started trailing down her cheeks unchecked. The pink-haired manager was even quicker to hush the man and wipe away the tears. The last thing she needed was for Dai-chan to see her fussing over him or crying over this inconsequential skirmish of theirs.

However, that was not why Satsuki was crying.

She was crying because she could see the last vestiges of his middle school trauma coming free—like shackles coming undone at her childhood friend’s hands and feet, making him even more lithe and quick on the court.

She could see him enjoying the team play that school basketball was supposed to entail for the first time in 3 years.

She could see him laughing and running around with his teammates who were striving hard to meet his expectations and surpass him—to be his equal on the court and show him that he’d taught them well.

Satsuki was crying because it had been years since she herself had enjoyed their high school basketball as much.

It was the first time in 3 years that she could see an immeasurable amount of potential blooming before her eyes.

If Dai-chan became a team player again, with a team not so much forced into having him at its center—but with teammates who revered him and wanted to maximize his potential for all their sakes…!

There was nothing that would be able to stop Touou from winning the Inter High by a landslide.

The possibilities were so enormous and off the charts that she couldn’t even wrap her mind around them at first.

But she definitely looked forward to seeing how Dai-chan and his teammates employed this newfound strength to their advantage.

And Satsuki would have the best seat in the house to witness it all – right next to Daiki, through it all.

x.x.x.x.x.x

The most unforeseen side effect of Daiki starting to enjoy school and basketball again came in the form of his newfound friendships with his teammates.

She was a fool for not having put two and two together to begin with. It wasn’t anything that should have caught her unawares. After all, the biggest reason for Dai-chan spending his every waking moment with her and only her was because he was in a very fragile place emotionally and she was his best friend.

His only friend at Touou.

The only person he’d let inside his heart. The only one he listened to and respected in any way. However miniscule it looked whenever he felt especially rebellious and stubborn.

He had treated everyone else like an enemy for the good part of a year. Now he was only just starting to learn how to act like a normal person, so of course he was clumsy at the beginning.

But his teammates around him – the people who wanted to bond with him – were durable and forgiving. They didn’t mind Dai-chan’s clumsiness when it came to forging new bonds. They didn’t mind his brashness or unexpected crudeness every now and then. Instead, they found it charming in the same way that the team’s manager did.

Subsequently, this led to Daiki having less opportunity to have his lunch alone with Satsuki atop the school roof—something they had done since sixth grade together. Something that had been their adventure to partake in while at school.

Instead, he was now frequently ambushed by the freshmen boys from the basketball club whenever the bell rang signaling the start of their lunch break. The three new additions to their team seemed to make a sport of racing to Daiki and Satsuki’s classroom, competing to see who got to convince her childhood friend to join them for lunch.

At first, all four of the boys had begun this tradition by asking Satsuki along with them. All five of them eating lunch together in the courtyard.

A wonderful sentiment, she had thought, yet decided against taking them up on it. She had wanted to let Dai-chan connect with the boys better – to be able to say anything he wanted to them and, what was more important, for the boys to be able to talk to him freely as well.

Something which, she realized very clearly, they wouldn’t be able to with her standing there among them.

That was how, more often than not, during the larger part of the first semester of second year, Satsuki ended up having lunch separately of Daiki and her teammates.

Granted, this led to the girls in her class to open up more toward her. Perhaps they had been too intimidated to approach Satsuki when she’d been spending all her time with her overlarge dark-skinned childhood friend. Or perhaps they found her more interesting now that she spent more time around the classroom than she had the entire first year of high school.

Satsuki wasn’t entirely sure which of those it was, but she was grateful for the female company for once in her life nonetheless.

It was a breath of fresh air to be able to discuss more feminine matters with fellow classmates for once. It was engaging to be able to bond with other girls about her other interests besides basketball.

The novelty of the experience started wearing off, though, around the middle of June. She did appreciate all the positive changes in their day to day lives for the small miracles that they were, but it wasn’t like she had ever wished for everything to change completely.

It took her yet another failed attempt in order to realize her true feelings with the changes that had taken place.

The shift had been so gradual that even she hadn’t been able to wrap her mind around it.

“Dai-chan,” she started in a chipper mood, tapping her best friend on his shoulder. She had sauntered over to him the minute the lunch break bell rang, trying to shake him awake from his nap induced by the monotone voice of their teacher. “Wake up, Dai-chan!”

She gave him a firm shake that helped rouse him from his (impressively deep, considering the circumstances of them being at school) sleep.

“Stop shaking me, Satsuki!” Daiki complained dispassionately, swatting her hand away from his shoulder. “You’re making my brain rattle in my head with that.”

He stretched his arms and legs out like a gigantic cat, making Satsuki giggle to his side.

“You damn sadist,” the navy-haired ace added as an afterthought.

“Never mind that, Dai-chan!” Satsuki enthused, ignoring Daiki’s indignant squawk in response to her last statement. “Let’s go have lunch on the roof together, like we used to! Weather is supposed to be great and I got up extra early to prepare these lunch boxes for us today!”

The pink-haired youth procured the aforementioned offensive objects from under her desk, placing them upon Daiki’s desk. The latter swallowed thickly at the sight of them, a thin sheen of cold sweat beading on his forehead.

“Aomine-senpai!” a familiar voice called from the direction of the classroom entrance. Satsuki’s heart sank at the sound of it. “Let’s have lunch, Aomine-senpai!” the first boy said before the other two chimed in merrily as well.

Before Daiki could open his mouth to turn them down, Satsuki patted his shoulder again.

“On second thought, you should go have lunch with the boys. I have some information I’d like to go over before practice with the Inter High nearly knocking on the door, so you guys have fun while I do that.”

Her navy-haired companion gave her an odd look.

“What? I thought you wanted to have lunch together today.”

Satsuki shook her head.

“It’s fine. They came here especially for you, so it would be rude to send them off.” Daiki made a face at her that conveyed exactly how disinterested he was with how rude he’d be to their underclassmen. Satsuki gave him a smile that was more reassuring than she felt, and waved him off. “Don’t worry about it—maybe some other time. Oh!” She suddenly remembered and gave Daiki his own boxed lunch. “Here you go! I wish we could eat them together, but I still did my best with this for you, so enjoy!”

She didn’t miss the deadened look on his face upon gingerly receiving her gifted lunch for him. Dutifully, she punched his shoulder none too gently.

“Shut up!”

“I didn’t say anything!” Daiki protested loudly, massaging his shoulder.

“You didn’t have to! It was written all over your face!” Satsuki all but shouted at him. “I’ve gotten better – you’ll see!” she promised before shooing the ace off towards the freshmen boys who were starting to get antsy from waiting for him.

As he lumbered off in their direction, the pink-haired girl couldn’t quite quell the sharp stab of disappointment that speared her heart.

This was going to be yet another lunch break that she would be spending with people other than the one she came to the school to spend her time with.

x.x.x.x.x.x

A month later the preliminaries for the Inter High would begin.

That did not seem to impress Daiki in the least, though, because he continued doggedly pestering Kagami for one-on-one games despite the fact that they had had a practice match not even a couple of weeks earlier.

Satsuki suspected that Wakamatsu-san’s constant teasing had hit a nerve for Daiki. Now he felt more paranoid about the possibility of the blond being right. All things considered, the Touou ace did not want to suffer another loss from Seirin. Not if he could help it any.

Checking on the redhead’s growth from time to time, thus, was almost imperative.

The navy-haired boy was so simple it was endearing at times like these, Satsuki thought with a secretive smile.

Still, being easily goaded (or tricked) into things, Kagami ended up agreeing to Dai-chan’s propositions more often than not.

Which was why two weeks later on a nice, sunny Sunday in the beginning of July, found the two lights of Touou and Seirin playing one another on a street court. Their two closest companions were just outside the court, keeping a close, doting eye on them as they scuffled for the ball and scored against each other at the sole basket they used.

“Aomine-kun seems to be in great form,” Kuroko surveyed with something akin to pride in his quiet voice. Satsuki couldn’t help grinning back at him at that.

“He’s at his best ever!” she confirmed and turned her attention back to the two lights steadily entering into the zone as they played.

…Despite both of them agreeing beforehand that it was tiresome and they wouldn’t do any zone play that day.

The teal-headed phantom sixth man chuckled to himself before he noticed how Satsuki’s smile slowly slid off her face to be replaced with a much tenser expression. Clear cerulean eyes fixed upon her worriedly.

“Why does this seem to bring unhappiness to you, Momoi-san?” Kuroko asked evenly, his expression open and encouraging.

Satsuki shook her head in response.

“That’s ridiculous, Tetsu-kun!” she denied vehemently, turning away from her junior high crush. Try as she might, she couldn’t fool him, and the fact she avoided eye contact with him only proved his suspicions. “It’s not like Dai-chan being at his best ever is making me unhappy. Quite the contrary! I’m happy for him!”

While he had no doubt of the fact that Aomine-kun’s happiness was Momoi-san’s happiness, Kuroko Tetsuya couldn’t quite place the sudden contradiction on his former manager’s face.

His two Teikou friends were his closest people from back in those days that were much like a wonderful dream.

Usually, they were also the most self-sufficient ones out of the entire gang – what with Momoi-san being the voice of reason while Aomine-kun being the solid and never-changing one among them. (At least as far as personality and interests were concerned.)

Thus, this kind of hesitation coming from either of them regarding their long-standing bond made Kuroko rather wary.

“Are you concerned what will happen if no one manages to win against Touou this year?” Tetsuya queried knowingly, believing to have hit the nail on the head.

His guess was a very good one.

After all, the one thing that had perturbed Satsuki the most for the past three years had been the way Dai-chan had completely lost himself due to how unattainable heights his basketball play had reached.

Was there a risk of him relapsing into that again should he go on long enough undefeated? If Satsuki had to be honest, she would say yes. Yes, there was. But did she think it could possibly be any time before the end of third year’s Winter Cup?

No. Certainly not.

After failing to win the last Winter Cup, Satsuki was sure that Daiki would do everything in his power to make sure that Touou would be standing at the top. He would do what he could with all his impressive might to make that happen. Be it the Inter High or the Winter Cup this year, he would want to take them both.

As repentance for breaking his promise to Imayoshi-san in their first year.

Besides, it hadn’t been the fact that he was constantly winning that had slain Dai-chan’s spirit before. It was the fact that no one ever seemed to give a damn to compete with him anymore.

That was not something she could see happening with Ki-chan, Midorin or Kagamin. Not to mention Akashi-kun who may have somewhat recovered from the temporary lapse of sanity he had suffered for a few years, but that didn’t make him any less victory-starved.

So at least for the next two years, Satsuki wouldn’t have any need to worry about her childhood friend relapsing to his previous state of mind.

In wake of this thorough contemplation, Satsuki shook her head with a small curve of her lips.

“No, I think Dai-chan will be fine for the time being.” She turned to give Tetsu a brilliant smile. “After all, he has you and Kagamin, if all else fails!”

Kuroko reciprocated her smile with a demure one of his own.

“I think you underestimate your importance for Aomine-kun, Momoi-san,” he told her quietly, causing Satsuki to give a complacent little giggle in return. The upturned corners of his mouth slowly settled back into the taut line from earlier. “If that’s not it, then what’s bothering you, Momoi-san?”

“Nothing’s bothering me, Tetsu-kun!” she insisted without much gusto. “You are such a worrywart sometimes.”

It was not an untrue statement by any means, but Kuroko was certain there was more to the situation than Momoi-san was willing to let on.

Instead of pressuring her into answering – because perhaps she didn’t want to share, or disliked the thought of sharing whatever it was with him. He couldn’t be sure but he hated the thought of imposing himself on his former teammate so he stopped asking her.

He focused on the couple of idiots on the court, whose one on one had taken on ridiculous speed and proportions. They were supposed to have played only up to twenty-one points for one side. Nevertheless, seeing how hard it was for either of them to score—what with being constantly blocked while shooting, dribbling and trying to dodge one another for minutes at a time, zapping around the small area of half the court all the time—it was no wonder that their little showdown was taking longer than usual.

Kuroko wouldn’t be surprised if they were still stuck in the single digits.

“It’s not that… Dai-chan being at his best ever is making me unhappy or anything…” she mumbled at last. Her magenta gaze pinned to the pair duking it out at the court. Her fingers closed around the metal wires of the fence and she held onto it as though for dear life. “I’m just… feeling a bit lonely, I guess.”

“How come?” Kuroko cocked a puzzled eyebrow. “I thought you guys got to be in the same class again this year.”

He put a thoughtful hand to his chin, pondering if he was remembering incorrectly. Satsuki shook her head.

“We are. It’s just that…” She shrugged noncommittally, her whole being seeming to shrink with the movement. “I feel like we’re slowly drifting apart.”

Kuroko’s eyes widened a fraction at that.

“I find that really hard to picture,” he confessed at length.

Satsuki snorted.

“Well, it’s true.” She turned around and slumped back-first into the wire fence. “We don’t go out together as much anymore. We don’t have lunch together anymore. He doesn’t play hooky from practice anymore so I don’t have to go looking for him. Which is great!” she enthused, but it sounded hollow. “It’s a relief… yet at the same time I feel like I’m losing something much more important than a few minutes every day from having to hunt him down to get him to come to practice.”

Kuroko surveyed her calmly with his deep cerulean gaze that had the quality of making everything better.

But this time it wasn’t working.

Satsuki didn’t feel better.

So she continued talking, in hopes that vocalizing these feelings would help get the load off her chest.

“I’m happy that he made friends with the Touou team – I really am!” she insisted but her voice broke mid-sentence. “I’m really glad that the underclassmen started seeing Dai-chan for who he is – a charming idiot who’s a lot of fun to have around. Someone to learn from. Someone to lean on. I’m really happy for them and I’m even happier for Dai-chan because he deserves to have some friends again, just like back in elementary and junior high.”

Satsuki slid down against the wire fence until she was sitting on the asphalt with her back facing the two aces playing on the court.

“I’m glad but at the same time it hurts.”

She pulled her legs up to her chest and embraced them with both arms, burying her face in her knees.

“It hurts because it feels like it’s been an eternity since the last time I had lunch with Dai-chan. It feels like forever since we were last going home just the two of us, without all the freshman hanging off him every step of the way. It hurts because I want to go back and smack myself for agreeing to let them have lunch on their own that first time, because now it feels awkward to ask to eat with them, too. They’ll think I’m weird—and it is weird. But I was the first one to know that Dai-chan is someone you can count on. I was the first one who was leaning on him.”

Kuroko listened to Momoi’s tirade patiently, allowing her to say everything she wanted before he could speak his mind on the topic.

“He finally started acting like a normal human being and started getting up for school on time. I don’t have to kick him out of bed every morning. Sometimes he even comes to pick me up first whenever I start running late. And that’s great but it’s also horrifying—you know, Tetsu-kun?” She sought out his face for the first time since she started spilling his guts. What she saw in his expression, Tetsuya didn’t know, but whatever it was, it caused her to look away quickly.

Instead of burying her face in her knees as she had before, she merely fixed her dark stare in the distance, her face tense.

“He also doesn’t need to be forced in order to attend practice. More often than not, I don’t even need to mention it in order for him to immediately head to the gym. And that’s just amazing, you know? He hasn’t been like this for three years, so it should be a blessing!”

Kuroko was starting to believe that Momoi was nearing hysterics. At least that’s what the sharp edge of her voice was telling him.

“But it doesn’t feel like a blessing. It feels like… I’m no longer needed. He has friends, he has people who recognize him and appreciate him. He’s content enough to go to school without being told. He’s happy enough to want to play basketball again and to want to improve. He smiles when he plays with the boys who adore him, and his basketball style is changing to accommodate their addition to his life. And that’s fantastic, but it means he no longer needs a caretaker. Now that he no longer needs one, it feels like there’s no space for me in his everyday life anymore.”

She buried her face in her knees again at that.

“I hate that. I hate thinking like this. I hate feeling like this. But I feel so lonely and powerless to change the direction where things are heading. I just… don’t know what to do with myself anymore.”

Her voice became smaller and smaller until it felt like she herself would disappear. From the way her shoulders were shaking, Kuroko feared that she may have broken down crying—a situation that he’d rather avoid.

Especially with Aomine-kun less than 20 meters away and his penchant to misunderstand whenever Momoi-san was involved.

However, what had drawn his attention the most was the meaning behind what his former teammate had rambled about.

A small smile spread on his face. It was about time that both of them started to be more conscious of the other’s importance in their life. And their stance on the matter.

“I am sad to hear that you have come to feel like this, Momoi-san,” Kuroko said with a lamenting lilt to his voice. “Have you tried talking to Aomine-kun about this?” He couldn’t help but ponder.

Satsuki lifted her face and shook her head. The corners of Tetsuya’s mouth curved upwards at this nonverbal admission.

That explained everything for him.

“Since you’re feeling like your back’s pressed against the wall, I think your best course of action is to talk to Aomine-kun about all these things that bother you.” He laughed quietly at the comically appalled expression that seized his companion’s face. “There’s no need to dread it so much, I believe. Aomine-kun has potential to be more understanding than you give him credit.”

“When it comes to such complex matters?” Satsuki sniffed testily and pulled herself up to a standing position again. “I deeply doubt it.”

Tetsuya allowed himself a private grin at that.

“You’d be surprised.” He turned to Satsuki with a serene expression. “Besides, you guys have been together through that nightmare that was Teikou—taking on this small hurdle should be a piece of cake. You shouldn’t allow this rift you feel between you to widen.”

Satsuki smiled earnestly in response. This was why whenever she needed some good advice, she came to Tetsu-kun. He always knew the best way to convey his thoughts and the right words she needed to hear. He always knew how to convince her of the best course of action.

He was so painfully right she couldn’t believe she hadn’t come to this obvious conclusion herself. Of course she had to speak up. Dai-chan was an idiot, and he was denser than most. He probably didn’t even know she was feeling this way. He was just having the time of his life while she wallowed in her self-induced misery.

Instead, she should have put her foot down and laid down the facts. She should’ve told him the minute she started feeling this way that she hated the way things stood between them. She should’ve told him that it was ridiculous how the freshmen couldn’t seem to get enough of him to the point that she barely got to spend any time with him.

She would let him know first thing after they parted ways with Kagamin and Tetsu-kun.

“I see you have found your answer,” Tetsuya said with a small smile. Satsuki beamed back at him before giving a vigorous nod. “I just want to add one last thing.”

This piqued the pink-haired Touou student’s attention and she turned to raptly listen to what Tetsu-kun would tell her.

“You said you believe that Aomine-kun no longer needs a caretaker. However, I don’t think he ever considered you such. That’s a role that you decided for yourself in regards to him. This is why I firmly believe Aomine-kun sees you in a different capacity altogether. After all, when we go out to play, you are the one who he tells and brings along, Momoi-san. Not any of his new friends or admirers. If you really believe us to be as important to Aomine-kun as you mentioned earlier, that should speak plenty of what he thinks about you as well. Please consider that.”

Consider it she did. Quietly, determinedly, until Dai-chan triumphed over Kagamin in their one on one.

x.x.x.x.x.x

Half an hour later, on their way home from the basketball court, Daiki threw a cursory glance at the girl walking beside him.

“Satsuki?”

“Mm?” The addressed hummed in return to show she was listening.

A helpful cue, seeing as how her nose was buried in her phone, fiddling with her data as always after he played a game with someone.

“What were you talking to Tetsu about?”

She may have believed him terribly dense throughout their lives, but Daiki was not an idiot. He saw her still completely at his question. Even her fingers stopped their rhythmical tapping on the touch screen.

“I can’t recall,” she retorted breezily. An obvious attempt to deflect if he ever saw one. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged with one shoulder, turning his gaze away from her searching one.

“It just looked like you were pretty upset at one point. So I was wondering if Tetsu needed to be taught a lesson maybe.”

This earned him a harsh smack in the shoulder. He yelped and complained at her immediate choice to resort to violence.

“You are doing no such thing, Dai-chan!” Satsuki hissed back at him, outraged that he could even utter such blasphemous words. “Tetsu-kun was just being helpful earlier. There’s no need to start threatening him like that!”

“If you say so,” Daiki grumbled his assent. “Not like I could hurt Tetsu ever. I was just asking…” he continued mumbling to himself as he trudged along towards his house.

Satsuki peered at him out of the corner of her eye as they walked in brief silence.

“I’m surprised that you even noticed. You and Kagamin seemed to be very engrossed in your game. I thought you were in the zone,” she pointed out curiously.

Her navy-haired companion shrugged casually again.

“I don’t know about Kagami but I was kind of in the zone. I wasn’t so far gone not to notice you going emo mode outside the court.”

His phrasing gave Satsuki pause. She wasn’t certain how to interpret what he had said without misunderstanding what he had meant. Did seeing her distraught have such importance to him that it could even distract him from an ongoing match (however inconsequential of a match it may be)? Or was he simply not as focused on his game with Kagami as she and Kuroko had believed?

She decided not to dwell on this minute detail and instead nip her problem in the bud.

Dai-chan had done her the service of bringing up the topic and all – it would be rude not to take this chance to have her say.

And have her say she did.

She shared with him everything that bothered her with their current situation.

She told him how she felt that there was a gulf opening between them that she didn’t understand. She told him how she thought he no longer needed her and how this wounded her. She told him how disappointing it was that they no longer could have their lunch together—even if it was just so he could mock her latest attempt at cooking something.

She told him how their dwindling time together made her feel like she was lost at sea. She told him how she was incredibly happy for him finding other friends but how she felt her position as his best friend threatened.

She told him how she was glad he spent more time with other people, but wished he would spend some time with just her, too.

Throughout her entire soliloquy, Daiki had this dumbfounded look on his face that made her want to smack him. Slap the idiot, and herself too, for trusting Tetsu on this one.

Tetsu-kun was wrong to believe that her telling everything to Dai-chan was a good idea. All she had achieved was to completely confuse him, without a doubt.

After a heartbeat though, the navy-haired ace came out of his stupor and his usually stoic features twisted into a pensive look instead.

“If this had been bothering you for weeks… why not say something earlier, Satsuki? I don’t get you.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Why wait until the feeling festers to take action against it? Doesn’t sound like you at all.”

Only when he said it like that did she realize he was completely right.

It wasn’t like her at all.

Why had she allowed it? She didn’t know. She had acted completely out of character. She didn’t understand her own behavior and that didn’t sit well with her. She had never had trouble understanding herself before, so starting now was nothing short of disconcerting.

Before she could go into full blown analysis mode, Dai-chan adopted a wolfish grin.

“But wow, that really was quite the confession, Satsuki. From where I stand, it really sounded like you don’t like the idea of sharing me with others.”

He gave a short guffaw of a laugh before taking a step closer to her. Once his mirth subsided, he graced her with his widest and sliest grin ever.

“If I didn’t know better, I would say it was almost like you were telling me you love me and want me to pay more attention only to you.”

He fixed her with a wide grin while his eyes had mischief dancing in them. Even if it hadn’t been for what he’d said, his mere countenance would’ve made her sputter for a rebuttal.

“It’s not like that—That’s not what I was saying—!” she started grappling for the right thing to say in a way that was almost adorable.

Before she could get any more embarrassed, Daiki quelled her panic with the way his expression softened—waned—and the soft set of his large hand atop her shoulder.

“Relax, Satsuki—I was just kidding you. There’s no need to explain.”

Try as she might, the pink-haired manager couldn’t bring herself to look away from her much taller companion at this. Craning her neck from so close to him was painful, but the look on his face was just so impossible to place she couldn’t turn away from it.

The smile was still securely in place, but there was a forlorn twist in it. It felt slightly forced and not at all belonging on Dai-chan’s idiotically confident persona.

It was heart-wrenching and beautiful at the same time.

She wished she could understand what had caused that look to steal across his face. She wanted to understand because she had no clue what had brought it on.

One moment he was teasing her, laughing at her expense, then the next he was looking like he was slowly dying inside but pretending it was all in good humor.

Since when was Dai-chan capable of such complex emotion? She felt mind-boggled.

“I know that’s not what you meant. Don’t worry. I know that your heart is set on someone, and I’m rooting for you to find your happiness with him. Or, you know, the next best guy. My dad says a woman’s heart is as fickle as the autumn sky, so who knows. Maybe Tetsu won’t be the lucky guy after all.”

His hand slid down her shoulder until he was holding her hand in his own. That inexplicable smile was still on his face when he started leading her away.

“Until you do, I would be grateful to be the one standing next to you.”

They walked on in a brief silence while Satsuki was still in shock over what she had just heard from her childhood friend.

She had never had him openly encouraging her feelings for Tetsu-kun. Nor had he ever spoken to her of her love life or her interests in general. It wasn’t like they didn’t talk about matters of the heart on principle, but… they just didn’t talk about these things.

She would be hard pressed to say why that was. She didn’t feel awkward talking to Dai-chan about her love life—or lack thereof, despite her most fervent prayers. But perhaps he felt self-conscious to share, which was why they never openly discussed the matter.

They didn’t talk about these things. If they did, it was always Satsuki one-sidedly oversharing about her latest mishap when she attempted to woo Tetsu-kun or some such.

Daiki always astutely kept quiet.

She had been grateful, because she believed that if he were to share, it would be some kind of lewd comment about Horikita Mai-chan or something – his favorite gravure model. She was one hundred percent certain that if he were to overshare regarding his thoughts on Mai-chan, it would be details she did not want to have knowledge of.

But now Satsuki couldn’t help but wonder—did Dai-chan also have interests like a normal person?

The thought felt foreign in her mind. The idea of a girl Dai-chan could be pining after ridiculous. Was there even a human female in existence that could possibly sway that alien’s fancy? She was hard pressed to imagine what kind of girl that could be. Her mind reeled at the thought.

She chose to push that notion out of her mind at once. Thinking about Daiki holding interest in girls made something clench in her gut and twist in the most revolting way. It was an abhorrent feeling and she would rather not pay it any heed lest she discover something she didn’t want the answer to.

Still.

“Wow, Dai-chan.” Her voice sounded as awe-struck as she felt while they walked home, her hand still limply in his hold. “Where did that come from?”

He turned his head partially to throw her a smirk she could only describe as disarming. An expression that most certainly did not belong on the face of someone you had known your whole life.

An expression she had never witnessed before on a face more familiar than her own.

“From the heart, of course.”

There it was again. She knew that this feeling was familiar, and she had finally placed it.

It was the same feeling she had had from him as when they took their first pictures in front of Touou Academy.

He had thanked her then, too.

And he had given her that cryptic smile that held so many more layers of meaning to it than she believed him capable of.

Her lips parted in order to say something—a thought that hadn’t properly formed yet—but before she had a chance to do so, he interjected.

“And, before you say it, yes, I do have one.”

And just like that, the moment was gone. His well-intentioned joke dashing whatever atmosphere they had been unwittingly sharing. She blinked profusely, suddenly disoriented from the rapid change in her train of thought.

“You know? A heart,” Dai-chan clarified with a small chuckle. “I am still human, regardless what some people are claiming around here.”

Satsuki had to exert considerable effort to stomp out the feeling of profound disappointment that bled through her being. It had risen in response to his denial of allowing her to study whatever that moment had been about, what it meant or how it had come about.

But once she had squashed it out, she reciprocated her navy-haired companion’s mischievous smile.

“Oh, I’m still not quite sure. Maybe at some point the Dai-chan I knew in kindergarten got replaced by this alien who simply looks like Dai-chan.” He threw her a sardonic look over his shoulder. She shrugged innocently in return. This made him hasten his pace until she had to jog after him in order not to trip over her feet. He was still holding her hand captive after all. “What? How could I be sure? The scientists still haven’t disproven that theory, so it’s as good as yours.”

As they relapsed into their familiar playful banter the closer they got to their houses, Satsuki curled her fingers around his to make the hold more comfortable.

She told herself she would have plenty of time later on to analyze what had transpired today. She would have all the time in the world to consider all the things said—and those that had not been voiced aloud—when she was in the company of her own thoughts later.

For now, Dai-chan had a shower to take and she had basketball data to analyze.

Considering that Imayoshi-san and the third years weren’t around for this year’s Inter High, the stakes would be high. The importance of her counterplans for their opposing teams all the more crucial.

x.x.x.x.x.x

The very next day—and the week that followed—saw a substantial change in Satsuki’s day to day life at school.

The first came in the form of her childhood friend insisting on her having lunch with him and the freshmen. He potentiated her ease in settling among all the boys, and kept steering the conversation to topics in which she could offer her spot-on input.

This brought about a newfound sense of reverence among the new small forward and point guard in regard to Satsuki. They had known that their manager was not only very clever and mastered in intelligence gathering, but to get to spend time in her presence and share in her knowledge was something else altogether.

Only after speaking with them for a few days over lunch did Satsuki realize that she had been placed on a pedestal similar to Daiki’s in the freshman boys’ minds. Or perhaps it differed slightly, seeing as how she was a girl with the assets that Mother Nature had given Satsuki generously.

Other days still, Daiki would stay to play with the boys three-on-three (with the addition of Sakurai-kun and Wakamatsu-san or another third year) after practice was over while Satsuki fiddled with her data for the Inter High. Once she was finished, he would tell the guys they were heading home, only to grab the pink-haired manager’s hand and run off with her alone before the boys could catch up.

The first time he did that, he dashed into a corner where the light from the setting sun didn’t hit, dragging Satsuki after himself with enviable determination.

His innate agility allowed him to go from sprint to standstill without issue. However, the pink-haired girl did not boast such skill. She was sure she was going to be run face-first into the wall to Daiki’s side and break her nose much to his great amusement.

Instead of that, she ran into his larger figure, which he placed between her and the wall, cushioning her sudden deceleration. He grabbed her by the sides and pulled her further into the shadowy niche before their pursuers could notice them.

To keep Satsuki from making any noise of protest or disgruntlement at being manhandled like that, Daiki put his hand over her mouth and pulled her further into his embrace until she was practically enveloped by his being in the dark niche.

The unexpected closeness made the girl’s skin burn wherever it was in contact with her friend’s. She reasoned with herself that being pulled into a sprint was the fault for that. But as she listened more raptly to his slightly erratic breath rather than whether their pursuers were close, Satsuki realized she was enjoying this game more than she should.

“Come on, they missed us,” Daiki reassured her with a chuckle right next to her ear. The vibration of the sound transferred into her ribcage in a not at all displeasing way. “Let’s go, before they come back!”

He pulled Satsuki into another run, this time a quieter, stealthier one.

“Dai-chan, you’re such a kid!” Satsuki reprimanded with no real bite as they sneaked out of the school building.

They could see the boys running around the sophomore floor from just outside their vantage point at the school gate.

Daiki laughed raucously in response.

“You’re one to talk. You’re having just as much of a blast as I am with pulling their leg.”

She couldn’t deny the truth of his statement as she laughed happily, her heart feeling full and content as they slipped unnoticed by their pursuers.

After doing this a few times, predictably, the boys started complaining to Dai-chan.

“Aomine-senpai!” the new small forward of Touou started with a whine in his voice. “Why did you ditch us again yesterday?”

The boy slouched over Daiki’s desk like a limp noodle. His body conveyed perfectly all the disdain he felt.

“I thought we were going to eat at Maji burger yesterday so you could tell us more about the other Generation of Miracles guys we will fight in the official games in the Inter High.”

The team’s ace laughed mercilessly at the younger boys’ misery.

“It’s not my fault you guys suck at catching me. Maybe if you get better at this game, next time we will eat together at Maji before going home,” Daiki teased them with a wide grin.

“If you don’t want to go home with us, you just have to say so!” the new point guard exclaimed vehemently, tears of indignation prickling the corners of his eyes. “We will understand! But baiting us like that and then bailing is not nice, Aomine-senpai! You are a cruel man! Cruel indeed!”

Satsuki was returning from the bathroom around the same time as the boys’ passionate banter was reaching ridiculous heights. She could tell that someone was being rowdy in the classroom even before she was in earshot to hear what was being said.

“Nonsense. I didn’t bail. We were playing cops and robbers, and you guys failed miserably at catching your robbers. We should all be grateful none of you are planning to go on to do police work. You’d suck terribly at it.” The navy-haired youth sniggered at the thought.

The new small forward of Touou slammed his hands on Daiki’s desk and stood up to his full impressive height. The action made the chair he was sitting on screech in protest as it slid back to accommodate the movement.

“Why do you always choose Momoi-san over us, senpai! Shouldn’t the philosophy here be bros over hoes?” he boy implored loudly enough for Satsuki to hear him through the closed sliding door of the classroom.

His question made her hand hang in front of the door without touching it.

Her childhood friend’s response came smoothly and easily.

“Do you have to ask? I’ll choose Satsuki over anyone else every time.”

“But why?!” the point guard demanded, outrage lacing his tone.

“Because she stayed and believed in me when no one else did.”

As true and frank as Dai-chan’s response was, Satsuki couldn’t help feeling a bit self-conscious at the way he had put it.

It seemed that the boys beyond the door had similar reactions to the reply, because no one said anything for almost a full minute afterwards.

“Uh…” the small forward started, sounding awkward. “I was just making fun, but this suddenly got a bit too real for me.”

“Ditto,” the point guard agreed.

Daiki laughed at them.

“Don’t ask questions if you’re not ready to hear the answers.” His tone took on a smug quality next. “Here’s a better question though. When will you guys finally start landing your three pointers?”

The boys blanched at this. Daiki burst into laughter at their reactions.

“That’s the real question. One might even call it one of the mysteries of Touou Academy.”

Satsuki smiled to herself and slid the door to her classroom open, making to join their fun just as Dai-chan pulled Sakurai-kun into the conversation.

Something about teaching the freshmen how it’s done properly.

x.x.x.x.x.x

lucid

/��luːsɪd/

shining or bright; luminous.

In first year of high school—during his first encounter face to face with Kagami, Daiki had told the redhead that his light was dim.

As it had been indeed.

However, only once he had completely shaken off the shackles of Teikou basketball did the Touou ace realize how dim his own light had become over the years.

Of course, not in the sense he had vested in the words when saying them to Kagami.

As an absolute quality, Daiki’s light shone brighter than any other on the court. He outshined almost every other Miracle on the court whenever he matched up against them.

Nevertheless, Daiki’s light had become dim in comparison to what it should have been by the time he was a second year in high school—if only Teikou hadn’t broken his spirit, that is.

But thanks to the Miracles disbanding and scattering all over the country, and thanks to Kagami’s appearance, the navy-haired teen had finally rediscovered himself in the sport he loved.

By the time the Inter High official games came around in second year, Daiki’s basketball style had been completely reworked.

Now it didn’t simply accommodate the fact he had teammates, but he shaped it in particular ways exactly because of his teammates’ strengths and weaknesses. It was thanks to his lightning-fast reflexes and quick decision making in the split second that made it possible for Touou to play their best possible game against anyone, with Daiki at the core of the team.

That was one aspect.

Another aspect was that the ace possessed a very peculiar skillset outside of his basketball prowess. One he had reacquired over the past half year, so to say.

A very charming quality about Daiki before Teikou had been his ability to make friends quickly with just about anyone.

This helped him greatly in getting to know his new teammates and shaping his play around them, and around his blossoming talents.

He had never understood how people were so easily opening up to him, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Satsuki, on the other hand, didn’t need to ponder to understand how come those first years were so drawn to him and so profoundly affected by him.

Dai-chan shone brighter than the sun on the court, dazzling any and all who bothered to look. He had always worn his heart on his sleeve, being the simpleton that he was.

It was just that Teikou had crushed and stomped on said heart, and given it back to him in shambles. It had made it impossible for him to be himself for a long while.

But now, half a year after his first defeat in what felt like forever, Daiki was back to his normal self, playing the game he adored alongside teammates he trusted and who trusted him even more. He was playing equals, against whom he had to be careful and not let his guard down at any point in time.

His light shone brighter than any other while he zipped back and forth the lengths of the court, his fakes and formless shots five times more effective with the addition of the possibility he could pass the ball at any point as well.

His stealthy passes were nothing like Tetsu-kun’s because they did not disappear through the merits of misdirection.

If she had to compare them, Dai-chan’s passes were the exact opposite of Tetsu’s. Since all the eyes of everyone on the court—and around it—were always pinned on him whenever he had the ball, following his every movement, every action, it was impossible to direct the attention away from himself.

Yet Dai-chan’s passes were unseen by his opponents all the same.

He passed the ball masterfully during speedy crossovers, or when he dribbled the ball behind his back, or when he pretended to shoot for the hoop but instead passed it over to Sakurai-kun. He passed when the opposing team thought he would go for scoring himself, because it caught them unawares when the points were taken by another member of Touou instead.

The best part of all was that high school basketball was nothing like middle school basketball.

Even when he triumphed over his opponents in an overwhelming victory, none of the boys on the court ever lost hope until the final buzzer. They struggled and struggled, and if Daiki or his team let up, they caught up, one basket at a time, until Touou’s dominance was not as well asserted anymore.

High school boys were not as mentally fragile as middle school ones. They did not lose heart as easily, and they did not get so crushed even if they did lose.

If anything, losses made them doubly more ferocious in subsequent matches—something Touou’s basketball team had found out the hard way.

That thought alone fueled Daiki’s fire and made him burn brighter than a star when hustling with them on the court.

Of course, having a good fight with anyone was pointless unless he won.

Having already had a taste of defeat recently, Daiki was not thrilled at the thought of repeating the experience.

Plus, as long as he was around, he was unwilling to let his first year friends be subjected to the bitterness of sleepless nights and restlessness that infallibly came with losing a great match.

Daiki had adopted a somewhat guardian-esque mentality when it came to his underclassmen after learning why they had enrolled to Touou. And that was because they’d watched his every game in first year of high school and decided they wanted to play alongside the force of nature that was Aomine Daiki for the next couple of years of their lives.

So he attended practice dutifully, sometimes just watching for half an hour before idling about made him too antsy—or seeing his teammates repeating the same stupid mistakes over and over tired him out and he just had to set them straight.

This led to his gameplay improving massively—in a way that riveted the attention of almost any audience entirely on his form and his fluid play.

Sometimes Satsuki wondered if he even realized how close the proverbial spotlight always followed him whenever he played in any game. Then she came to think that he probably didn’t even give a damn if it was or not, because it didn’t change at all the way he played.

It wouldn’t be for half year or so that Satsuki would come to realize that her eyes were instinctively following his every move—not just on the court but off it, too—in a manner that had nothing to do with basketball.

She couldn’t be blamed for becoming enthralled by him, though.

That was just the effect his lucidity had on everyone.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Additional notes: If you read the entire thing, I commend you! You finished all 48 Word pages!

Also, please forgive any typos and mistakes left over because I read this 3827589 times and it still might be flawed, because I reworked it for what felt a gazillion times over.

That said, if you did enjoy reading this accidental behemoth and leave a thought or two, I wouldn’t be more grateful. This fandom is tragically dead and inspiration is next to nonexistent anymore.

#AoMomo #otp #Kuroko no Basuke #Aomine Daiki #Momoi Satsuki #Character Study #my scribbles #fanfic #accidental appearances of Kuroko Tetsuya and Kagami Taiga #a bunch of unnamed first-year Touou boys abound #not sure if this is any good at all #but if I don't try I won't find out so #here you are #also this site was not meant for posts as gargantuan as this one #just saying

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