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peaceisadirtyword · 3 years

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Fate (Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello!🥰 As I said here’s the first fic I wrote about season 6B. I already loved Ivar but his evolution during this last season made me love him even more (I didn’t know that was possible). And I was dying to write for him (I even have a series planned, but I’ll wait until I’ve finished Move On and maybe Hate to post it.

This one will only have 2 parts, next one will be posted maybe tomorrow! I really hope you like it, and that I have captured this “new Ivar” well enough! And, of course, this contains spoilers for season 6B!! so if you haven’t seen it yet don’t read it!😅

I was going to post this one earlier this week but I had a pretty big exam today and I was exhausted. So next part will be posted maybe tomorrow or on Sunday!☺️

Also, thanks to @ivarhoegh for reading this before and telling me her opinion🥺🙏🏻 I hope y’all like it and enjoy the reading, thank you!

Warnings: mentions of sex, alcohol and violence, Ivar might be a bit out of character, my bad writing (?) not much!

Words: 3459

gif belongs to @therealcalicali

You knew he'd be back. The Ragnarssons would always go back to Kattegat. For some reason, you had the feeling he would be back soon and not with the Rus.

A single boat, a Rus boat, which meant he didn't betray them or escaped from Kiev. Hvitserk came with him, of course, that made you smile softly. Hvitserk would always go back to him because he loved his little brother but didn't even know it.

People booed, spat and yelled insults at them as you watched, silently, standing at the end of the crowd and rolling your eyes at the insults. You knew they'd be laughing and toasting while yelling their names very soon, as they always did with their father.

Ivar had changed. He looked much more calmed, not so tense nor ready to attack to the first person that angered him. He had a huge scar on his angelic face, you frowned at it, angry at whoever dared to hurt his beautiful features. He had changed a lot. Of course, you had seen him at the battle against the Rus, but then you ran away from him, not even thinking about trying to fight him.

You watched as Erik lead them to the Great Hall, where, you supposed, they'd meet King Harald.

"Fucking traitors" someone spat next to you, making you raise an eyebrow and turn around to look at him "We should kill them and leave their bodies to the wolves"

"Now that's no way to speak about the sons of Ragnar, is it, Einar?" You bit your lip to hold back a smile.

"Their father would do it if he was here" he scoffed "They betrayed us all"

Sighing, you started walking back to your little house, not far from the Great Hall. Seeing him again had been maybe too much, and you needed some time to yourself.

Einar stopped you, though, taking your arm.

"Will I see you tonight?" He licked his lips. You frowned softly, not really in the mood to see him. Some days ago, you'd said yes, opened the door to your house for him and then have sex until you passed out, but now Ivar was back and that changed everything.

"I'm tired" you smiled apologetically at him "Maybe some other day"

Einar sighed, but nodded. He was an asshole sometimes, but at least he respected you.

Inside of your house, you started the fire on the fireplace to warm the house a bit as you took off your clothes. You had no intention of going back outside, so you'd eat something and get into bed. With some luck, you'd get some sleep.

A part of you wanted to think you'd never see Ivar again. Even if it hurt, after seeing him every single day since you were both kids, it would have helped to forget him, but then again... Would you ever forget him? Not even so much time apart, since he left Kattegat when Björn took it until he came back to Norway with the rus army, had made you forget him. In fact, you'd swear your feelings were stronger than ever.

But it was exhausting. To search for those ocean eyes, wishing and praying to have them look back at you even if it was for a second, to go to sleep thinking about him and wake up thinking his face was the first thing you wanted to see. You had always been there, looking at him when everyone else looked at his brothers, fighting alongside him to avenge his father, conquering York with him, and going back home with your king, he always was your king.

Your parents were always worried about your unhealthy obsession with the youngest Ragnarsson. At first, they thought it was only a stupid crush, but as you kept growing and your feelings didn't disappear, they realized it was serious.

Then you heard that Ivar had sex with Margrethe, that pretty slave that had his older brothers pursuing her, and you were so devastated that you searched for comfort anywhere. And you found it on his brother Hvitserk's arms.

You never regretted losing your virginity to Hvitserk, he was a good lover even if he didn't really remember your name the day after.

Your parents left Kattegat when Lagertha was queen, disagreeing with the way she killed the former queen, Aslaug, Ivar's mother. You know how much he loved his mother, how close they were, and your heart ached for him as he lost both his parents at the same time.

So you joined the army and sailed to England to avenge Ragnar. Always fighting by his side, always watching his surroundings, killing every single person that dared to get close to him. And learning that, like his brother, he'd never remember your name, because he was a prince, a son of Ragnar Lothbrok, fated to be a legend like half of his family was, and you were just a girl, the daughter of a seamstress and a warrior that learnt to fight for her prince knowing she would never become his princess.

Then he became king, and took a queen. You still remembered how much it hurt to see him looking at her like that, how broken your heart was when he announced he'd marry her, and that they would have a child. You tried to hate Freydis, but you couldn't hate someone who made him that happy. You didn't want him suffering the same way you did for him. Ivar was special, and he deserved to be loved and happy.

You could have left, escape Kattegat and never look back, but you couldn't. And it broke your heart when he did leave.

Now he was back, and you were still the young girl in love that would fight an entire army of Christians for him.

_______________________________________

King Harald was throwing a feast. It surprised you, as you didn't think the king would be so keen to throw a feast for Ivar the Boneless, former king and the source of most of his headaches.

You wore a dark red dress your mother had sent to you, with your hair barely braided and some kohl on your eyes. You never dressed for men, you couldn't care less about men's opinion about you, but you found yourself wondering if Ivar would notice you. It was like going back to being sixteen, trying to catch his attention without him knowing you were trying.

It had been a long time since you stepped into the Great Hall for the first time. You didn't really attend the feasts when Björn was king, you were somewhat angry at him, at his family and his men. They were the reason Ivar left.

And you probably wouldn't have attended this feast if you hadn't known for sure he would be there.

He sat on king Harald's table, with Hvitserk sitting at the opposite side of him. The king, his wife and Erik sat facing the crowd. It was a weird feast, people didn't sit down and many chose to eat while standing. It was also awfully quiet, and everyone eyed the main table suspiciously, as if they were waiting for Ivar to stab king Harald at any second. It wouldn't have surprised you if he did.

Einar drank horn after horn of ale next to you. Sometimes, he'd stop laughing with his friends and mutter some insults to the Ragnarssons, but not too loud. Not even Einar was foolish enough to insult the Ragnarssons in public, especially Ivar.

You hadn't said a word. It felt familiar to stay silent, drinking and eating quietly and sneaking glances to Ivar sometimes as you had done your whole life. He had changed a lot, you could see he wasn't as defensive as before, his eyes didn't scan the room expecting to find someone laughing at him. But even if he was surrounded by people that probably would love to cut his throat and throw his body into the sea, he looked relaxed, making small talk with the king sometimes, as if he had everything under control.

Suddenly, everything went quiet. Ivar looked at the crowd for the first time, his hands rubbed his lips as everyone stared at him and his brother. He could feel the resentment on their eyes and, for a moment, his eyes fixed on you.

His eyes widened softly when he recognized you, but you looked away before you could see it, directing your glance to King Harald, who stood on his feet looking sternly at his people.

A fake smile curved Harald's lips as he walked closer to the crowd. You barely listened to him, even if you kept your eyes on him, almost afraid of letting them wander around to find Ivar again.

"Ivar regrets the way he ruled here" Harald pointed at him. Ivar didn't even try to look ashamed, looking directly to his brother. Neither him nor Hvitserk seemed to understand Harald's game "He was young, the responsibilities were too great, and he forgot the lessons of his father"

You raised an eyebrow. Ivar had lost his mind for a woman while ruling, something his father had done too. Men could pretend to be all powerful and great, but women had the true power, the power to make them do unimaginable things out of love and obsession.

"And his brother, Hvitserk, he never meant to kill Lagertha" Harald continued "How could he ever mean to kill such a goddess?"

Hvitserk never meant to kill her, that was true. You had been the witness to his illness, you had lost the count of how many times you found him, all drunk, drugged and wandering around Kattegat. You gave him food, but he never accepted your help more than that. He wasn't himself when he killed Lagertha, but he never regretted it.

"They are who they are" Harald kept talking "But they are also sons of Ragnar"

Ivar looked at the people again, this time with a defying glare on his face, nearly asking who would dare to try and kick him out of his own home.

"I don't trust them" Einar clenched his jaw, and you felt his grip on your waist. He was half drunk and that gave him a false feeling of courage. Ivar heard him, and he narrowed his eyes.

Then someone stood up. A man, whom you had seen drinking maybe too much ale, was standing bravely, looking at Ivar.

"So tell us, Ivar, is it true you are a God, like you told us?"

You tensed up, and gasped when Ivar stood up. Everyone was silent, looking at him. He walked until he reached the middle of the room, and he threw his crutch to the floor.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see him collapse on the floor. You heard him fall. And suddenly everyone was laughing. You opened your eyes to see him laughing too.

Just like that, he won their trust again. The music started playing, and the mood in the room shifted quickly. Ivar was still on the floor, looking proud of what he just did, and letting his eyes wander around the room. He found you again, and this time you held his gaze.

__________________________________________

It was hot inside. Einar had reached the point of groping you, trying to make you sit on his lap to lift your dress. You managed to wiggle out of his grip and made your way out of the Great Hall. It was overwhelming, especially after all the tension of knowing Ivar was back. You barely slept the night before, and you weren't feeling like celebrating, what exactly would you celebrate? That you would be back to being the stupid little girl obsessed with a prince that wouldn't look at her twice.

There was a couple of drunk men yelling and laughing when you walked down the streets of Kattegat while trying to get home. Hail Ivar, they yelled, making you raise an eyebrow. They were Einar's friends, and they had been cursing the name of both brothers a few hours ago. Men.

But as you continued walking, your head throbbing from all the ale you had drank, a voice startled you.

"I know you"

You froze. You knew that voice very well, but had never heard it directed to you.

Ivar was half hidden inside one of the barns. There was a torch next to him, and the dim light made him look even more handsome. You raised an eyebrow, and it took all of your willpower not to start running.

"You know me?" You cleared your throat.

"Yes" he pressed his lips together "You're Y/N, aren't you? You're a shieldmaiden"

He knew your name. The fucking Ivar Ragnarsson knew your name.

"Yes" you walked closer to him, trying not to stare at him too much. His crutch was leant against the wall next to him, and he had a wooden stick on his hands, in which he carved patterns with one of his knives "And you're Ivar"

He smirked at you. It made your knees weak.

"We fought together, didn't we?" His soft voice was like velvet, it was like a gentle caress when you were about to fall asleep "In England, I remember seeing you fight in York"

You nodded. He tilted his head curiously, his ocean eyes looking you up and down. Those eyes you had always dreamt of.

"I saw you on the Great Hall and I was surprised, I barely know anyone here anymore" he frowned, looking around "It felt nice to see a familiar face"

"What are you doing here?" You blurted out. You didn't want to be rude nor make him uncomfortable, and immediately you bit your tongue.

Ivar smirked again.

"You mean here in a barn or in Kattegat?" He chuckled.

"Both" you frowned.

"I was feeling a bit overwhelmed in there" he shrugged "I needed some air and I needed to be alone for a bit... And, to be honest, I don't know why I am in Kattegat, I just needed somewhere to go, but it doesn't feel like home anymore" he looked at you in the eyes. It was so intense that you had to look away after a few seconds.

You nodded softly.

"I'm glad you're back" you muttered. Ivar tilted his head with curiosity.

"Did I kill any member of your family? Should I be careful in case you're planning to stab me?"

It was the first time you smiled in front of him.

"No, if you had killed someone I loved, I would have stabbed you long ago"

He sighed, nodding his head.

"Fair enough"

"You did break my heart, though" you whispered, approaching him to lean your back onto the wooden wall next to him. Ivar narrowed his eyes, confused, but didn't say anything.

"I just remember you were a really good fighter" he shrugged "And that you slept with my brother once"

That surprised you. You looked at him, flustered.

"I..."

"I wasn't... I wasn't spying on you or anything" he chuckled "I just saw you sneaking out of Hvitserk's room, I was sitting on the throne"

"So I made a great first impression, didn't I?"

Ivar smiled. A genuine smile, not a smirk, a real smile.

"It wasn't the first impression, I had seen you training more than once, and I saw you when you came with your mother to see mine, I remember she made her dresses"

Your lips parted in surprise. So Ivar did see you. You always thought he never paid attention to you, that he didn't know of your existence. Knowing you were wrong made you feel a strange warmth on your chest. It was nice.

"You've changed" you pointed out in a soft voice. He had changed a lot, the Ivar you knew was very different to the one standing next to you. But it was a nice change. You liked it.

"Everyone says that" he raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe because it's true"

He shrugged, and his eyes went back to the piece of wood on his hands.

"Why didn't you stay with the Rus? Why risk everything coming here?"

"Did Harald pay you to ask me all of this?" He laughed.

"No" you bit your lip to hold back a smile "I'm just curious"

He looked at you again, with the ghost of a smile on his lips. His eyes shone under the dim light of the torch, and you felt the need to lean in to kiss his pouty lips.

"I learnt a lot in Kiev" he muttered "I understood many things, and I met people that marked me forever" his voice had so much emotion that you wondered if he was talking about a woman "But my destiny isn't there, and I had to move forward"

"So where is it? Your destiny" your eyes lightened up with curiosity.

"I don't have a clue" he raised an eyebrow, smiling at you softly "I figured I'd come back to where I started, trusting the Gods would tell me what should I do"

"Have you heard from them yet?" You giggled.

"No, not yet" he chuckled.

"Give them time" you shrugged "You're a favorite of the Gods, Ivar Ragnarsson, they'll guide you"

Ivar looked surprised, and turned his head to look at you a bit better. He remembered seeing you around Kattegat when he was young. Once, after you had been in the Great Hall to give Aslaug a new dress your mother had finished for her, he had told his brothers he thought you were pretty. They teased him for days. He felt a small tug on his heart remembering the playful banter and the teasing.

He had seen you look at him. At first it annoyed him, thinking you stared at him because of his legs, but then he caught you staring at him more than once the same way the girls stared at his brothers. It helped with his self-esteem, more than he'd ever admit.

"What about you?" He shook his head. Any feelings you might have had for him were in the past, he was sure, he'd seen you with a man in the Great Hall.

"I'm afraid my life isn't as interesting as yours" you giggled "I haven't left Kattegat"

"I know very well that things can happen without leaving Kattegat" he raised an eyebrow.

"I just keep training, and sometimes I go to raids" you shrugged "And I work around here... Not much"

Ivar's eyes flicked back to yours, interested.

"No husband, no children?"

You let out a laugh, shaking your head.

"No one finds me interesting enough to marry me" you sighed "And children? I can barely take care of myself"

"I find you interesting" he muttered, and for a moment you thought you hadn't heard him right "I mean" he cleared his throat, chuckling "I'm glad to see you're well"

"Thank you, I'm glad to see you're..." You frown, looking at the scars on his face, that seem rather new "Alive"

Ivar hummed, nodding when he realized you looked at his scar.

"Thank my dear brother for this" he scoffed. You smiled at him.

"You probably deserved it"

He looked at you, surprised, but nodded softly.

"Yeah, I kind of deserved it"

Ivar the Boneless admitting he had done something wrong? Wow, you didn't know what had happened while he was with the Rus, but that was a huge change.

Ivar turned to look at you when he heard you giggling. He liked you, he felt at ease with you. He felt like he didn't need to impress you, as you knew him too well already, but also didn't seem to be angry or afraid at him like the rest of Kattegat.

His eyes hypnotized you again, they were even more beautiful from up close.

Without realizing it, you leant into him. Ivar's eyes twinkled as he understood your intentions, and you'd swear he leant into you too.

"Y/N!" Einar's scream startled you. Ivar turned his head to glare at the drunk man that stumbled down the street, with eyes half closed and looking around "Where are you?"

You leant back with a sigh. You had forgotten about Einar and how needy he was when drunk. Ivar raised an eyebrow at you, and you took a deep breath, visibly embarrassed.

"He's... Einar" you groaned "I should go and make sure he gets home"

Ivar nodded slowly.

"It was nice talking to you then"

"Same" you gave him your widest smile. Your first conversation with Ivar Ragnarsson had been very different from what you had imagined, but also better.

"Good night, Y/N" he smirked.

"Good night, Ivar"

_________________________________________

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Okay I hope I didn’t forget anyone :( Tumblr doesn't send me notifications and sometimes the asks don’t even appear on my inbox💔 so please if I didn’t add you to the taglist tell me!

#ivar the boneless #ivar imagine #ivar x reader #vikings #vikings imagine

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jessiebanethedragon · 3 years

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White Sands Warm the Cold Sea

Star Wars, The Bad Batch Pirate!au (Hunter x Reader

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers dad and bothered are asses.

chapter one

Chapter two: The Stowaway

It is a disgusting day on Coruscant. Hot, humid and you can’t help but feel something sinister in the air. You feel hollow, and it is only partly due to the tightness of your dress. The yellow and green material wraps around you in layers. Your face is blank but your mind is racing, if you cannot convince your father to call off the marriage, how else can you put a stop to this?

Very few people talk about the war, and so how Lord Nython made his fortune is a mystery to you. What you have gathered from whispers of those in your household it was through a lengthy siege that devastated republic and seperatist forces alike.

“And the weather today is perfect for sailing, I bet those ships at the docks will be itching to set off.” Your handmaiden Seil says to you, and you frown, since when did she have an interest in the docks. But she continues playing with your hair.

“I'll get you the most expensive jewelry in the house,” She says with a smile you’ve grown up with. Perhaps carer was a more accurate term, considering she seemed to be the only person in the world that wanted the best for you. She returns with a pouch of all kinds of gold, silver and gems.

“There is a way to the docks, it is so lovely for a stroll. Away from the busy streets and such like.” You frown at her obsession with an area crawling with pirates.

“Seil what in the name-” You start saying, turning around to slip your flats on. And you stop, in her hands are your boots, made for riding as you had done so many times before.

“I thought these would be fitting, as they are your favourite.” She’s talking about all the times you told her how much you love how sturdy they feel around your feet. And how when you would run the fields, how powerful they made your legs feel.

And then it clicks. The docks, the boots. The tears in her eyes. While you were planning on an escape from this marriage, Seil had been planning an escape from every marriage your father would force on you. She ties the boots tightly, and places a hand on your cheek as you both take shaking breaths to compose yourselves.

And with your father still passed out in bed, and the sun barely rising, you slip into the streets and into the areas less traveled, sprinting off towards the ocean.

The docks are infused with the smell of fish, and the workers barely turn a glance your way as you shift through the swarms of people. You come to a halt at a clearing in the crowd, and your brain catches up with itself. What are you going to do now? With no money, skills, or plan, you begin to second guess yourself. You have time to make it back to the household with no one being the wiser. But you remember meeting Lord Nython for the first time.

His hand latched to yours like a monster squid to its prey, you notice that unlike some men he doesn’t ask ‘may I’ before touching you, and you briefly wonder what about you invites his hand onto your own. But your fake smile remains plastered on as he looks you up and down like a farmer regards the sale of livestock.

Your gut had told you then that all he could bring you was bad news, confirmed by rumors and stories of his wartime expeditions, and when he told you about the war, and the pathetic Grand Army of the Republic he spared no detail in his murder of an entire army.

Of course it's not the same as killing someone like you or me, those kaminoans are devils, and those freaks are just the same. Like hunting the same dumb peigion over and over again. We surely must have downed hundreds of them that day, but they are rats you see, you have to kill every last one in order to rid yourself of the infestation.

Education had not taught you about the Kamino Clones, but experience had, every sepratist man who held power despised them. ‘Scum of the earth’ your father had said when you asked about them. Telling you they had their emotions removed, and blindly followed orders given by the highest bidder. And when the G.A.R had fallen, they scuttled into exile.

And now you stand on the docks of Coruscant, two paths in front of you. Surely if you left Nyhon would send someone after you, he never seemed to back away from a fight, and given his reputation for always getting what he wanted, you doubted he’d take to your absence kindly. So that left you with leaving the only home you’d ever known, and given that you cannot sail, nor pay for passage, stowing away was your only option.

You briefly wonder about the procedure of stowing away, does one pick a certain ship or choose at random?

“Can I help you miss?” A Togruta man asks you, only his blue face visible from underneath his hood and cloak, but the markings give him away, as well as the point in the fabric over his head.

“I...I…” you pause to gather yourself. “I’m fine, thank you.” and you quickly turn away from him, walking down the docks at a purposeful pace. There are so many ships all looking to either load or unload supplies, but none of them seem to be leaving shortly. You need escape now, and not later. The longer you dwell the more the bad feeling in your stomach grows. You must lose yourself again because before you know it a man is rushing past you and shouting

“Sorry miss!” as he goes, you catch the clanking of metal and a glimpse of eyeglasses as he disappears up the ramp of a large dark oak ship, the name Havoc Marauder painted in red at the back.

Perhaps you have found your escape after all.

You very quickly decide the ocean is terrifying. After having snuck up the ramp and into the depths of the ship, you found yourself in your current spot. Huddled behind stacks of crates sitting on the wooden floor and being violently rocked around as the water crashes into the side from all sides. More than once you’ve had to close your eyes in panic when something particularly bad happens, but you refuse to appear weak - even if you’re the only person to witness it.

And the footsteps, even though the men seldom come below decks but you can hear them step ferociously above you. They sound like an army and considering you didn’t get a good look at any of them, you had no idea how many people you were hiding from. They’re loud, and kept busy by the Sea, you have no idea where you’re headed, but as long as it’s far, far away from Coruscant you couldn’t care less. And there are no windows here, so you have no idea how long you’ve been traveling for.

Footsteps start to make their way to the set of stairs leading down into your hiding spot, the small nook of the ship that resides in the belly of the beast. The steps you hear aren't as heavy as others, but they seem to keep most of their weight on their toes, you never quite hear their heel make contact against the wood. And you press yourself tighter to the wall, a tall frame passes you by, lean and with ashen hair the man halls a crate away from the other end of the room, and turns to leave. Your panicked eyes can do nothing but stare back at him through the gaps in the boxes, and they watch him squint for a moment, before he turns and heads back up the stairs. Crate in hand, and your heart in your chest. He cannot have seen you, if he had, why turn away? Panic consumes you.

☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠

“Sarge,” Crosshair says, thumping the crate of bread and dried meat down in front of him. Hunter simply raises an eyebrow at his vod, and it confirms Crosshair's hypothesis. The captain is in one of his moods again, when shaking off the nightmares is impossible and the hate inside him grows and simmers at fantastical measures.

“There’s a woman on board.” He tells him, casually popping a pick into his mouth. And watching as Tech’s and Wrecker’s heads snap up.

“A woman?” Tech asks with judgement. Crosshair rolls his eyes.

“Yes a woman, you know, the things that look almost like you except for their b-”

“I know what a woman is!” Tech cuts him off before things get graphic. His brother never having the politeness nor the decency to hold his tongue.

“There’s a woman aboard the Murader?” Wrecker tries to confirm, and underneath his wide captains hat, Hunter’s eyes darken.

“Listen very carefully.” He growls, the midday sun shining its way onto an unforgiving face. “If there is a stowaway. I do not care if you have to drag her to me with her intestines hanging out. Get. Her. Off. My. Ship.”

“But…” Wrecker starts, taken aback by the aggressive imagery.

“But what?” Hunter snaps, standing up and seeming small compared to his brother, but nonetheless intimidating. “I want her found and I want her off my kriffing ship.” He demands one last time before stalking back to the captains quarters.

Below deck you hear the slamming of a heavy wooden door, the sound makes your skin jump crawl with dread. Something has gone very wrong indeed, and it is not long before you see boots standing at the top of the steps down into the hold where you thought you were hidden. It is difficult to tell how many, two for certain, the change in foot size tells you that much. None of them talk, making it even harder for you to mask your panicked breaths. But just as one foot begins to descend the stairs, a voice from afar distracts it.

“Ship off the starboard bow!” it’s enough to get the men turning away from your concealment, and towards the voice.

“What does she fly?” Another voice shouts, much closer to you.

“Looks Weequay to me!” comes the response, which causes someone else to grumble something about eyesight and crowsnest. Frankly it’s all gibberish to you, starboard could be another hyper-ocean speedway let alone a part of the ship, and while you are sure you’ve heard the term Weequay before, you can’t place where or in what context you heard it. Laughter breaks you from your thoughts.

“That’ll be Hondo’s ship then!” A loud shout settles in your bones. Not one in anger but perhaps more so simple loudness. And whoever or whatever a Hondo is, it is enough to carry the shoes away from you and rush to another, more pressing task. Which makes you think you just may owe this Hondo your life.

Taglist: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st37 @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid @thelambandthewolffe @starwarsmeninhelmets

@bronvin @myeternalsin @sweetsunflowerkisses

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hysterialevi · 3 years

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Hjarta | Chapter 8

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

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

THE NEXT MORNING

BJORNHEIMR, THE LONGHOUSE

Combing his fingers through his hair, Eivor finished tying the last link of his braid as beams of sunlight steadily began to seep through his window, signifying the start of a new day. He could hear birds singing in a chipper tone just outside the wooden walls, and in the distance, he detected the subtle sound of seawater crashing against Bjornheimr’s shores.

The weather today seemed to be much more peaceful compared to what they experienced previously. Eivor could still feel a cold chill blowing freely throughout the longhouse, but it wasn’t nearly as forceful as what they had to endure before.

The fires they lit were more than enough to fend off the icy breeze that tickled their skin, and the sun’s warmth only added to the heat that was beginning to gather in their home.

All-in-all, it was a rather serene morning to welcome the people of the sleepy village. Unfortunately however, what the day lacked in cumbersome weather, it made up for in altercations.

Not too far away from where he sat, Eivor could hear Sigurd and Styrbjorn’s voices booming inside the war room, echoing off the walls like a chain of thunder. Their words were somewhat muffled thanks to the many layers of wood that stood between Eivor’s quarters and the main hall, but even then, it wasn’t difficult for the young man to guess what was going on.

It sounded like they were arguing about the same thing that brought Dag to the docks yesterday. Sigurd’s tone was gruff with a familiar edge of annoyance, and the king himself seemed to reflect his son’s dour mood. There were occasional bouts of silence where the two of them would calm down for a few moments, only to erupt once again when someone’s anger got flared up.

Eivor just wished he could stop it somehow. It wasn’t difficult to see that Sigurd’s state of mind had deteriorated rapidly over the past couple days, and the young man wanted to help the prince before it became any worse. He cared about his new friend despite only having known him for a week, and the gradual rise in his frustration admittedly ignited a sense of worry in Eivor’s heart.

He just feared that Sigurd would be even more distant now that the Wolf-Kissed’s feelings had been made clear. The older man appeared to have no issues opening up about his emotions in the past, but his demeanor completely shifted as soon as Eivor confessed to his feelings during their short fishing trip.

He closed himself off in a way that Eivor had never witnessed before, and within seconds, it felt as if they were strangers again. It was one of the few conflicts that led the young man to wonder if Ingrida’s prediction had been correct all along, and if so, he feared what that would imply for the wolf that continued to haunt the prince’s dreams.

If someone really dared to turn traitor in the near-future, Eivor couldn’t even begin to imagine the chaos that would ensue. There was enough tension hanging over Bjornheimr thanks to Kjotve’s barbarity that something as severe as betrayal would’ve done nothing except cause it to snap.

It was the last thing they needed in a time like this, and the easiest way for Kjotve to to get the upper hand. They couldn’t let it happen.

Taking his leave from the bedroom, Eivor finally decided to move on with his day and strode out into the main hall, only to find himself more intrigued by the argument as the longhouse’s structure amplified the men’s voices.

Sigurd was currently leading the conversation with an iron grip in his tone, and the level at which he spoke even frightened Eivor to a certain degree with how alarmingly calm it was. The anger seemed to have vanished entirely from the prince’s rotten mood, and left nothing but exhaustion and defeat in its wake.

It was the intonation of a man who’d lost every shred of patience he once contained, and Eivor didn’t even have to see Sigurd’s face to know that he was at the end of his rope.

“...I can’t do this anymore, father.” The man said, barely speaking above a whisper. “Do you have any idea how humiliating this is? Every single day, the villagers of Bjornheimr ask me where their king is, and every single day, I have to come up with an excuse to explain your absence. Oh, my father’s just busy. Oh, he’s occupied with something else. Oh, don’t worry, he’ll be here soon.”

A sudden thud emitted, leading Eivor to assume that Sigurd had just slammed his fist on the table.

“I’m done with it!” He exclaimed. “I may be next in line for the throne, but you are still the king. I can’t keep stepping in for you. I can’t keep pretending that everything’s alright. Kjotve continues to threaten our shores on a daily basis, and you’re struggling to even stand upright! What more do you expect me to do?”

Styrbjorn sighed deeply, entirely at a loss for words. “...My son, you know I am trying my best--”

“--Are you?”

“--Yes, Sigurd. I am. But it’s not as easy as you think.”

“We are at war, father,” the prince emphasized. “Nothing is going to be easy. But that’s no excuse to spend all your time sulking in the longhouse, drowning yourself in mead. Do you remember what you said to me the night before we left Fornburg? You told me not to worry. You told me this wouldn’t be an issue. You promised it.”

“And what did you tell me?” Styrbjorn countered. “You assured me that you would do everything in your power to make this marriage a success. And yet, I see you doing nothing except gallivanting around Bjornheimr with Eivor in tow, completely turning a blind eye to your betrothed.”

Sigurd’s irritation only escalated at the response. “I-- you know nothing of my relationship with Eivor. He is an honorable man, and he has helped me through many things as of late. He understands the necessity of this alliance, just as I do. Do not try to turn the blame on him.”

“And what would you have me do, exactly, Sigurd?”

The prince’s voice became hardened with steel. “Be the king these people think you are. Deliver the promises you made, and stop hiding in the shadows whilst I do everything in your absence! The whole point of this alliance is to rally an army large enough to snuff Kjotve out for good. How are we supposed to do that when our own king is constantly stumbling over his own two feet?”

“Your reckless behavior is hardly going to help defuse the situation either, Sigurd. Need I remind you that you nearly got Arngeir’s son killed? Where would we be now if Eivor had been slain in those woods? What do you think the state of this alliance would be? Have you ever considered that?”

“Of course I have! But unlike you, I intend to learn from my mistakes. Not repeat them over and over again.”

Sigurd let out a breath and stepped back from the war table, putting an end to their semantic circles.

“...Enough.” He muttered. “I’m done with this. I have my own duties to attend to, and I’ve wasted enough time arguing with you. If you must send Dag after me again, I’ll be discussing matters with Ulfar near the training yard. Otherwise... just leave me be.”

Shutting down their argument, Sigurd stormed out of the war room before Styrbjorn even had a chance to reply and marched into the main hall, practically leaving a trail of flames behind him with how aggravated he was.

His brow was crinkled with a deep sense of fury, and in the silence that followed their heated conversation, Eivor heard nothing but the firm thumps of the prince’s footsteps echoing throughout the longhouse.

When the older man noticed the Wolf-Kissed standing outside however, he halted in his tracks and stared at his friend in a shocked manner, unsure of how to react. The veil of rage hanging over his expression suddenly disappeared, and a look of shame singed itself into his face once he realized Eivor had just heard everything.

“E-Eivor?” Sigurd blurted out, coming to a sudden stop. “I... I didn’t know you were there.” He lowered his head in embarrassment, dreading to hear how the man would respond to his next question. “...How long have you been standing here?”

Eivor softened the truth somewhat, not wishing to cause Sigurd anymore stress. “Only for a short while. Don’t worry, I didn’t hear much of your conversation.”

The prince didn’t buy it. “We were hurling our words at each other as if shouting across a battlefield. There’s no way you didn’t catch every single syllable.”

The young man gazed down at the floor. “...I don’t mean to pry, Sigurd.”

His companion waved a dismissive hand. “No, it isn’t your fault. We weren’t exactly being quiet. I just wish you didn’t have to listen to all that. I apologize.”

Eivor’s curiosity heightened. “What’s wrong, exactly? Is this about the ‘problem’ Dag approached you with yesterday? Is your father alright?”

Sigurd stumbled over his words, unsure of how to open up about the subject. “No. He’s...”

The man trailed off for a moment and crossed his arms in thought, pondering whether or not to be honest about what was going on. He may have been hesitant to share information as delicate as this, but he trusted Eivor. He knew the younger man would never pass undue judgement on him, and on top of that, his friend had already witnessed a good portion of the conflicts within their family. There was no point in keeping him in the dark any longer.

“...My father is a drunk,” Sigurd confessed. “His habit has been getting worse lately.”

Eivor glanced back at the war room. “The king? Truly?”

The prince’s tone lowered with indignation. “Much to my dismay, yes. It’s not something many people know about. A king has to keep his reputation, after all. Apart from you, Dag is the only other one aware of my father’s problems. Everyone else is oblivious.”

The Wolf-Kissed stepped closer to the other man. “Has your father always been like this?”

“No. Not always. He first developed the habit after my mother passed away. There have been a few times when he’s managed to put down the bottle, but in the end... it always comes back. Like a pair of shackles that just... won’t let go. And this war with Kjotve certainly isn’t helping him recover.”

There was a brief pause in Sigurd’s speech, and he gave Eivor an inquisitive look.

“Eivor...” he said, keeping his voice down, “...can I ask for your opinion on something?”

The young man nodded. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

Sigurd’s expression slumped with guilt. “...Do you think I’m being a bad son?”

The question took Eivor by surprise. “No. Why? Do you?”

A somber sigh escaped the prince’s lips. “Part of me does. I just... feel like a failure.”

“Why’s that?”

Sigurd wandered over to one of the tables in the longhouse, speaking as he walked.

“You must understand, before my mother died, she was bed-ridden for a while due to her injuries. I spent lots of time talking with her during those days, and one of her last wishes was for me to take care of my father.”

He took a seat at the table, resting a hand on the surface. “...I think she always knew he would become like this once she was gone. She knew he wouldn’t be able to cope. So I promised her I’d do my best to keep him safe.”

Eivor joined his side. “And do you not believe you’ve done that?”

Sigurd shrugged in discouragement. “Well, look at us. Two decades have passed since my mother left this realm, and my father is still in the same place where he began. His addiction is only growing worse, and I’m starting to lose my patience. I just feel like I’ve disappointed my mother. I feel like I’ve failed to keep my word.”

The younger man frowned in empathy. “No, Sigurd. If your mother was anything like you, I’m sure she’d understand. But if you wish to help your father overcome this, you must try to be more patient with him. It’s not so easy to get rid of something like this.”

“I know.” Sigurd replied, sounding sharper than he intended. “My father’s been dealing with this ever since I was a boy. I know it’s not that easy. But I’m at a loss for what to do. I keep trying to help him and he just... won’t let me. He shoos me away like a pestering fly, and ignores my words no matter how many times I repeat them.”

The prince brought a hand up to his temple, rubbing it out of stress.

“I wish he would wake up and realize the urgency of our situation. We are at war. This is no time to be idling around. Our clan needs him, and so do I. Why can’t he see that?”

Eivor cocked a brow. “What about Dag? Has he ever tried to help?”

Sigurd scoffed harshly. “Dag? Psh. That man has all but made himself scarce these days. He hardly speaks to me anymore. It’s like we’re complete strangers. I don’t know what’s happened to him, but he won’t come anywhere near me now. He acts as if he doesn’t even know me.”

The Wolf-Kissed’s heart ached for the man. “...I’m sorry, Sigurd. I know you care for him.”

“I do. But I suppose that never meant anything to him. Or to anyone else, really. Mostly everyone I know has either stopped listening to me, or simply abandoned my side altogether. I don’t know if it’s me that’s the issue, or them, but... in all honesty, Eivor, you’re the only one I can trust now. You always take the time to hear me out, and I know you’ll be there when I need you. It... it means a lot.”

“I just wish I could do more to help.”

The older man shook his head. “You’re sitting here speaking to me. That’s already more than what most people can say.”

Sigurd calmed down somewhat and shifted in his seat, taking on a gentler tone. “...Eivor, you know what it’s like to lose your parents. Did your mother or father have any final wishes before they passed? Any hopes that you find yourself constantly trying to fulfill?”

Eivor was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know, truth be told. We never had the chance to discuss anything like that. Both of my parents were killed instantly when Kjotve raided our home. Any last wishes they might’ve had followed them to the grave.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Although...” the young man continued, “my father was always encouraging me to walk the path to Valhalla. His goal was to raise me as a warrior, and as a man of honor. I imagine if he were still here, he’d want me to pursue that on my own. So, I try.”

“A worthy pursuit,” Sigurd remarked. “Your father would be proud of you.”

Eivor beamed fondly at that. “...Thank you, Sigurd.” He turned away briefly and stared aimlessly at the view in front of him, thinking back to his childhood. “You know, when I was a boy, I actually used to be angry at my father. He sacrificed his honor in order to save me, and I once viewed him as a coward for it. I felt abandoned. Betrayed. I even almost threw away his axe one time. Thankfully, Ulfar stopped me.”

A puzzled look spread across Sigurd’s face. “What do you mean he sacrificed his honor?”

“Kjotve made a deal with him during the raid,” he explained. “He told my father that if he laid down his axe, he’d let the rest of our clan go, including me and my mother. She begged him not to listen to Kjotve, but... her words fell on deaf ears. My father complied in the end, and he allowed himself to die unarmed. As you can imagine though, Kjotve broke his promise. So ultimately, my father’s death meant nothing.”

Sigurd shook his head, leaning closer to Eivor. “No, not nothing. You’re still here. You still have a chance. Make use of it.”

“...Perhaps you’re right,” the Wolf-Kissed conceded. “I just hope I can reclaim my father’s honor before I die. He’s suffered in Helheim for long enough. I won’t allow myself to be killed like him. I won’t die without honor.”

The prince nodded in approval. “Good.”

Eivor took a second to gather himself and decided to put the topic to rest, proposing a new idea to the older man.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean for this to take such a grim turn. What say you to a quick walk around the village? I can show you some more places where I like to relax. It might help you take your mind off things.”

Sigurd sighed, lowering his head. “...Not today, Eivor. I have to see Ulfar soon, and frankly, I’m just not in the mood for it. I fear all this business with my father has put me in a rather foul state. I’d... rather be alone for now.”

Eivor was disappointed at the response, but respected it nonetheless. “It’s alright, Sigurd. I understand.”

The other man displayed a faint smile. “You always do.”

Sigurd stood up from the table and rolled his shoulders, attempting to wring the stiffness out of his body. He appeared to be feeling better than when they first started their conversation, but it was evident that he still carried a colossal weight on his shoulders.

“I should get going.” He said, sounding utterly drained. “Ulfar will be waiting for me, and I don’t wish to vex that man any further.”

“Is everything alright between you two?”

“Yes,” Sigurd reassured. “He just wants to discuss Bjornheimr’s defenses in case Kjotve shows up. I warned him about your suspicion that he might strike back in retaliation. That’s all.”

Eivor found some relief in that. “Well, tell Ulfar to let me know if there’s anything I can do to assist. I want to protect this village as much as he does.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Sigurd took one last glance at the younger man and gazed at him warmly, unable to hide the affection shimmering through his eyes. He may have been restraining himself from taking things any further with the Wolf-Kissed, but that didn’t mean his feelings were wholly eradicated.

“Thank you for listening to me, Eivor. I’m sorry you had to see me like this. I’m not normally this irritable, but... things have been complicated, to say the least.”

Eivor nodded. “Of course. This war has taken a toll on everyone, I fear.”

“Indeed. Which is why I’m grateful that I still have someone I can speak with. You’re one of the few things keeping me going. I’m not sure what I’d do if I had to bear all of this on my own.” Sigurd gently cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’ll see you some other day, my friend. This next week is going to be chaotic for me, but hopefully, I’ll be able to slip away here and there. I’d like to spend more time with you before the wedding starts.”

“Likewise.”

“Then let us pray that the gods give me an occasional break,” the prince joked. “Odin knows I could use one. Goodbye, Eivor. I hope the rest of your day is more pleasant than mine. Don’t hesitate to approach me if you need anything.”

Eivor watched as Sigurd strolled away, wishing desperately that he could comfort the man somehow. He wanted more than anything to just give him a simple hug, but alas, he knew what would follow if he allowed himself to get any closer to the warrior.

So, instead, he settled with a friendly wave and remained seated at the table, keeping his eyes on Sigurd as the prince began to vanish in the distance. He wanted to say so many more things to his friend before his departure, but he knew it was no longer his place.

They had already decided that their relationship had reached its boundaries, and no matter how difficult it would be, Eivor intended to keep it that way.

“Farewell, Sigurd.” He whispered. “May you wander into calm seas... and may the darkness part wherever you roam.”

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roonil-wazlib-at-221b · 4 years

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A Handmaiden’s Lies: Part 1

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Tom is staring moodily into the fire, tossing twigs and stones into it occasionally. Harry and Haz watch him by sneaking glances in his direction and thinking they’re being sneaky. The heat is brutal from where he’s crouching, but he can’t leave the firepit. If he does, he’ll see her. The girl he’s been infatuated with for months. The girl he knew he didn’t ever have a chance with. The girl he just saw kissing George in his tent.

Zendaya.

Maybe they’re doing a little bit more than kissing now, he thinks pissily, flicking his eyes to his friend’s tent before turning around with a firm resolution not to think about Z again—at least for tonight. It’s none of his business, anyway, and he’s never let a hint of what he feels for Z show. It’s not her fault and it’s not George’s either.

He’d never really had a chance. Not really. Not after George and Z had met and their words had burned. He’d known. It was self-preservation that had kept his lips sealed.

It still hurts.

And he knows he’ll see her in the morning, all golden and glowing, and it’ll hurt a bit but he’s her friend so he won’t say anything.

A commotion distracts Tom from his brooding. Everyone looks up at the sound of someone yelling, another sobbing, and other people grunting.

Zendaya and George stumble out of their tent to investigate the commotion. Tom glances at them, sees the way their shirts are rumpled, and can’t breathe until a group of seven people break through the tree line and approach the fire’s circle of light. Five of the men are Tom’s. They’re manhandling two servant girls.

Servant girls. From the castle? What the hell are servant girls from the castle doing in my camp?

“Paddy, what happened?” Tom asks, his voice equal parts amused and worried. His brother’s shirt has a large red stain down the front of it along with the lower part of his face.

“We found these two spying on us,” a boy older than Tom answers. His name is something like Anthony.

“The one with y/h/c hair headbutted him,” another boy, William, explains with glee.

“Got me in the balls too,” a brunet called Tomas adds, prompting a chorus of cries from the scandalized camp girls and both laughter and slight scolding from the boys.

All the while during this conversation, the girl with the palest white-blonde hair Tom has ever seen hasn’t stopped sobbing while the other girl is ramrod-straight. Tom almost likens her to a statue.

“Z, you and your girls get the…” Tom waves a hand limply at the crying servant girl. “All sorted out.” No way she’s a spy; no spy acts like that when they’re caught. She could be acting, but she would have to be a very good actress to do that and women aren’t allowed to act nowadays anyway.

No, the girl Tom is more worried about is the stoic girl who apparently knows how to fight. He beckons for the men to bring the girl closer into the firelight so he can examine her.

The first sight of you hits Tom in the chest like a donkey kick. His men should definitely have warned him about your appearance. You have to be a faerie of some kind.

Luckily, Tom gets his wits about him before he looks like an idiot by gawking at you. When he speaks, he focuses on your ear lest he lost his train of thought by focusing his eyes on your face.

Damn, he got over Zendaya fast. Too bad his men kidnapped you and you’re probably scared out of your mind right now. That’s probably not the best way in the world to start off a courtship.

“Why were you spying on my men?” he demands. Tom can tell you’re staring directly at him.

“To see what they were doing,” you reply. There is no inflection in your voice, nor any emotion in your face. You really are a statue-girl. Tom wishes he could be as stoic as you, but his arm burns and he flinches.

“Well, what did you want from them?”

“An adventure, so thank you for delivering.”

Tom doesn’t know what to say to that. He opens his mouth and closes it, pursing his lips with slight irritation. The blonde’s cries have stopped, leaving only the fire to fill the silence with crackling. Finally he manages, “Why were you interested in my men?”

“Holland and his men have been a thorn in my queen’s side ever since you arrived in Avenge,” Statue replies. “I hoped I could persuade you to leave.”

“Your queen is a joke,” one of Tom’s men calls, eliciting jeers from the crowd of men watching.

“And how do you propose to persuade us to leave before we want to?” Tom asks, amusement curling his lips at the thought of your one-woman army persuading him to leave. Your bravery is admirable but fool hardy, and you will undoubtedly be killed by that trait.

“As the queen’s personal assistant, you can understand why she wouldn’t let me go alone—I am her closest friend and confidant,” you brag. “So I brought with me her Chief of the Mystic Arts, Sir Benedict, and Chief Dame, Lady Scarlett.”

Tom swallows. Everyone has heard of the Chiefs of the kingdom of Marvel, which was why his men had been hesitant about coming to Avenge, Marvel’s capital. It was said they could do things normal people couldn’t. Sir Benedict’s powers were especially mysterious, as disaster could seem unavoidable until he would appear, his necklace would glow, and all threats would disappear, despite no one noticing anything between those moments.

“You think two Chiefs could take down Holland’s entire group?” Haz sneers.

Your lip curls. “A group of reject bastards without a day of training? It wouldn’t even take one,” you spit.

Haz surges forward—his heritage and abandonment have always been a sore spot—but one of the boys holding you tangles his fingers in your hair and yanks your head back. Your hand flies into the air, a closed fist, and Tom recognizes a ‘hold fire’ command.

“I think you’ll find I’m quite unkillable,” you mutter to the boy with his hand in your hair. Despite your low tone, your voice carries. “You, on the other hand, are toeing the line quite dangerously.”

“Let her go!” Tom barks.

“Come on, mate, you don’t really believe she brought two Chiefs with her,” Haz snaps, eyeing you with loathing. You smirk at him.

“Do you really want to risk it?” Tom replies. “She did say she’s the Queen’s personal assistant.”

“An assistant,” Haz repeats. “She could just get another one.”

“I’ll pretend you all didn’t hear me,” you say loudly. “I am unkillable, and you are rapidly approaching the point of no return.”

“Let her go,” Tom mutters.

“What?” Haz exclaims, like he really thinks he misheard him. Like he is allowed to speak to his superior like that.

“Let her go,” Tom repeats, louder. The look you give him does something weird to his stomach but he can’t afford to call your bluff just in case you are telling the truth. Only a Marvellian privileged assistant with two Chiefs at her back would waltz into enemy territory boasting loudly about her connection to the Queen. It paints too large a target on your back.

It’s either you’re telling the truth or a complete idiot. And as Tom meets your steady gaze, shadowed by the dancing flames of their campfire, he doesn’t see an idiot. He sees someone confident, used to getting their way, overzealous and brash, abrasive and aggressive, but he doesn’t see an idiot.

William and Paddy let go of your arms, albeit reluctantly. With a simple flick of your head, you reduce them to less than lumbering bears. Tom marvels at the way his boys aren’t crushed under the weight of your disapproval.

He’s heard this is what it feels like at first, but people disagree about whether or not the feeling gets weaker or stronger over time.

He is so screwed.

“Would you like to go somewhere private?” you ask with an unreasonable expression.

This isn’t what Tom had pictured. He’d pictured saving a girl from some rogues with less morals than he. He’d pictured meeting a girl in a tavern. He’d pictured buying something from a pretty vendor’s stall.

(In most of those scenarios, he’d pictured Z as the girl he flirted with)

But he never pictured her captured by his men and brought to his camp. He never pictured her as a servant in the Marvellian palace.

And yet, for some reason, he’s not disappointed. It does explain the mysterious half-sentence branded onto his right forearm. For years he’d puzzled over that phrase. For years he’s been wondering under what circumstances someone would say that to him.

For years Tom has been waiting for the one person who will love him unconditionally.

He nods and leads the way to his own private tent. Your soft footsteps follow him and he hears you close the tent before he turns around. You’re pulling your tunic away from your collarbone.

The once-black words now shine a glimmering gold in the lantern light from where they sit on the protruding bone. The handwriting is the same, even if the color isn’t; all soulmate marks are written in the same font until one meets their soulmate. That font is the type used in newspapers. It would have changed, except Tom doesn’t know how to write. His education hadn’t lasted that long. If he learns to write, Tom wonders, will the writing change too?

In return, Tom rolls up his sleeve, exposing his forearm and shivering as goosebumps appear. Belatedly, he sees your thin tunic and pants but you don’t seem to be bothered by the chilly night air.

He’d felt the burn but barely bothered to believe it. The once black, uniform letters have changed to a deep rusty red, like drying blood. The font has changed to a neat, small cursive that somehow doesn’t seem like it would be your handwriting. Tom had pictured large, looping letters to match your loud, strong personality, but perhaps that’s what happens when you’re educated in the palace.

He loves it anyway. It’s just another sign that no, Tom’s not unlovable, and the universe cared about him enough to give him someone to love and be loved by.

“It doesn’t matter,” you then say, smoothing the tunic down so the words are hidden again. “My loyalty is to the queen and her kingdom. In this time of political uneasiness one cannot afford emotional connections.”

Tom just beams at you. He can hardly believe the most beautiful girl in the world is his soulmate. And it doesn’t matter what you’re saying right now. Tom would wait a thousand years to meet his soulmate. Waiting until she’s ready for him won’t be (too) hard. He’d certainly comforted Zendaya when she was fretting about George this past week enough to know that there are always doubts. You’ll come around. You’re Tom’s soulmate.

“So tell me before you go,” you say, leaning forward to rest elbows on knees and chin on hands. “What do the foreigners think about my queen?”

Tom looks at you with confusion. “What?”

“It’s best to know what the enemy is saying,” is your stiff reply. “Might as well take advantage of the opportunity.”

“I’ve heard a lot of things about your queen,” Tom replies, leaning back and folding his hands over his stomach. He doesn’t miss the flutter of your eyelashes as you give him a quick once over and satisfaction pulls his lips up into a smirk. “That she’s a child. Weak. Stuffy for bringing back the old traditions.”

Secretly, Tom agrees with those rumors. The new Queen is a year younger than his nineteen years of age. Sure, he’s the leader of his men, but that’s much different than being the ruler of a whole kingdom. Plus, despite how no one has seen her in public for years, she decided to bring back the old Marvellian traditions of wearing a mask and not speaking in public. At this point the kingdom has no idea what their queen looks like despite her more frequent public appearances.

You might, though. If you’re her ‘closest confidant’ and ‘friend’.

“I’ve also heard,” Tom continues, “that she is so frail she sleeps frequently during the day, though I’ve also heard lazy.” He grins, enjoying the scowl that’s creasing your forehead. “And,” he admits reluctantly, “that all Marvel rulers are connected to their kingdoms with magic, and the queen is no different.”

You nod and lean back in your chair. “You and your men are thorns in her side.”

Tom doesn’t know if you mean that figuratively or literally. And frankly, he doesn’t care. He wants to talk more about you. He’d gotten you to scowl whilst insulting the queen, which means you’re not quite the statue he’d thought of you as.

And that means you can smile, too. You can laugh—Tom realizes for the first time what he would do to hear you laugh—and, most importantly, you can love Tom.

“That brings us to the true nature of my visit,” you say with a stern look like you blame Tom for distracting you. “Leave.”

“Wait, but…” Tom sits up straight. “What about…” he touches the words on his arm reverently.

“As I said before,” you say, visibly irritated, “there is no time for that.”

Tom takes a deep breath. “I can’t concede to you. Not without all my men knowing.”

You laugh bitterly. “Oh, how the governed rule the governors. That sounds like your problem, not mine.”

“I will come back,” Tom promises.

Your lip curls. It hurts him more than it should, especially considering he’s known you for about an hour at the most. “Would you really wait if I told you to? If I told you it would be years of loneliness? If I told you we might never—”

“Yes. You’re my soulmate.”

You scowl and turn away. “Hmm.”

“Wait!” he says desperately. “Don’t you… would you like an escort? On your way back, I mean?” Would you like just a little more time together?

You let out another unamused laugh. “Who would escort me? The one whose nose I broke or the one I kicked between the legs?”

“I could—” Tom begins hopefully but you hold up a hand to silence him. He doesn’t appreciate speaking to your back.

“I already have two Chiefs watching after me,” you say shortly. “And I know perfectly well that you and your men pass through this way every year. If you refrain from… Only take from those who can afford it,” you grit out. “Tell your men no destruction. And you may stay for the rest of your visit.”

“Will you be back?” Tom and his men only pass by Marvel once a year. Seeing you, his soulmate, just once, and then leaving for a whole year sounds like hell. “Just once. Tomorrow night.”

You shake your head after a moment of contemplation. Thankfully you’re still turned away so you don’t see the clear disappointment on his face. “That will just make it harder and you know it.”

He does know it. But can you blame Tom? He just met his honest-to-god soulmate.

“Doesn’t this mean anything to you?” His voice cracks.

“I can’t expect you to understand.”

“But I want to.”

“We’re all part of something bigger,” you say quietly. “And I can’t be selfish. Not right now.”

Tom stands. “All right.”

“R-what?” You turn around, pulling your eyebrows together into a frown.

“I’ll be back and you know it,” Tom promises. He brings one finger up to your cheek and barely touches the smooth skin. It feels like fireworks and the tent is suddenly entirely too hot. “And I hope you’ll be sorted out by then.”

“You’ll be better to find another girl,” you say quietly, swallowing noticeably but not pulling away from the caress. “Some camp girl who’s always with you. A girl with a choice.”

“I don’t care about any of them,” Tom insists and you snort.

“What about the beautiful girl with the large hair? It was obvious in the way you looked at her.”

All Tom notices from that remark is that you were watching him closely too, probably studying him as he’d done to you.

“Not a one,” he insists. “And even if I was, she found her soulmate a week ago when he joined the group.” You shake your head a tiny bit, a jerk he would’ve missed if he blinked. “If you change your mind we’ll be here until Sunday.”

“Find someone else,” you repeat, backing away and bumping into the side of the tent. “I won’t—I won’t come calling again. Don’t—” your fumbling fingers finally find the flap in the tent that is its opening. “Don’t get your hopes up,” you conclude, lunging forward at Tom. For one glorious second he imagines you’re going to kiss him, but then you’re tugging his sleeve down to hide his words. “I’ll—I’m not good enough—just find someone else.” And then, cheeks blazing, you slip out of the tent.

Harrison ducks in moments later after seeing both you and the white-haired girl off. Tom greets him with his sleeve pushed up again, fingers tracing over the beautiful cursive words. “Hey, Tom—holy shit!”

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Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 43: Vɪsɪᴏɴs Oғ Tʜᴇ Pᴀsᴛ

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for.

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Chapter Forty-Three

Octavia and I rode in silence for several hours through the dense forest as I tried not to obsess over the new information. I had never considered an alliance with the grounders to be possible and I had to admit that I was impressed with Clarke for accomplishing such a feat. Octavia’s words turned over in my mind as I attempted to match her assertions that the grounders had a better way of living to the ruthless tactics that I had witnessed from them and had difficulty imagining how we could possibly live in any semblance of harmony. I was amazed by the difference in Octavia and from what I had seen so far, she had only improved but I was unsure if I could be as adaptable. As Bellamy had said, I wasn’t good at following rules and I leaned heavily toward following my heart over my head.

As we explored the wilderness, I lost track of time and eventually the sun started to lower in the sky. Octavia led us to an area that she had clearly frequented before and assisted me from the horse. I almost fell as my weak legs met the ground and she noticed that I strained to keep my knees from buckling beneath me. She fixed me with a concerned look but refrained from commenting on it as I shook the mistake off. I was shocked by the suffocating exhaustion that I felt and settled onto a nearby log as Octavia busied herself with building a fire. After a brief rest, I dragged myself up to assist in setting up sleeping arrangements and prepared the space for the night. We sat side by side at the fire as the last of the sunlight sunk below the horizon and ate our rations in a comfortable silence under the wonderful colours of the sunset.

“So, what’s your hurry to get away?” Octavia’s sudden voice cut through the relaxed atmosphere and I flinched at her continued prying. “You don’t look like you’re fully ready for this and I’d have expected you to be glued to my brothers side right now.” She spoke in the distant tone that had become normal for her and I continued to be surprised by the bluntness of her words. I sighed thoughtfully before I could form an explanation.

“I need to feel useful, I can’t just sit in camp whilst everyone treats me like an invalid.” I drawled and she shrugged in understanding. Although this was part of my reasoning, I knew that I hadn’t been entirely honest with her and forced myself to share the root of the problem. “Don’t get me wrong, I could easily have stayed with Bellamy. But it’s probably best for him to realise straight away that I’m not just going to hide out in camp after all of this. He needs to get used to me being out of his sight.” I divulged and Octavia chuckled under her breath.

“Good luck with that.” She scoffed and I raised a bow at her inquisitively. “I've been trying to do that for years. He’s overprotective, it’s just who he is. If my tracking skills weren’t sharp enough to know better, I’d expect to find him following us.” She commented and I snorted in laughter at this idea. “Get some rest, we’ve got a lot more riding tomorrow.” She advised with a gentle nudge.

I spent the night tossing and turning on the cold, hard ground. I’d already become used to the soft bed of Bellamy’s quarters and without the comfort of his arms around me I couldn’t settle. My mind was filled with terrible images of the numerous people that I’d killed in Mount Weather and I was haunted with the overwhelming feeling of helplessness. I kept recalling the times that I’d been drugged, or captured and how I’d barely managed to fight for my life. The fact that my survival has seemed to hang so close in the balance made me feel weak and I bolted upright with a gasp.

It was unexpected to find that daylight was already breaking and that our supplies were packed to leave. I scanned the area to notice Octavia crouched by the fire sharpening her knife and the moment that she met my eyes, she efficiently stowed the knife in her belt and stood to hold a hand out to me. I allowed her to assist me to my feet and she inspected me with a hint of concern.

“I was about to wake you anyway, you were yelling in your sleep.” She explained in a tone that was prying as she raised a brow at me. I shuffled awkwardly on the spot and when it was clear that I had no intention of discussing it, she sighed. “We should move.” She instructed in her usual removed attitude and I nodded obediently.

We spent another couple of hours on horseback and the sights of the forest became less impressive in my tired state. I felt my waist beginning to ache from the strain of holding myself in the correct posture and my body was clearly demonstrating that the decision to make this journey had been unwise. I couldn’t help wondering how much longer this would take and found myself praying for the strength to make it back home. We slowed to a casual trot and I was glad of the reprieve from the bouncing motions of galloping.

Octavia scanned the treeline suspiciously and just as I opened my mouth to question her, an arrow tore past me, barely missing my chest. I gasped and jolted backwards, causing the horse to throw me off. My back slammed onto the ground and I wheezed in shock as the impact knocked the wind from me. Octavia leapt from her horse and gripped my arm to gracelessly drag me into the trees. She dropped me against a tree trunk and although I leaned forward in an attempt to get up, I winced at a jolt of pain from my wound. Octavia drew her swords with a menacing expression and strode out to meet the small group that surged towards us with confident smiles.

She fell smoothly into a skid on her knees as she swiped the first two before leaping up behind them to finish them off. My mouth dropped open in shock at her finesse as she flowed around the confused group and eliminated them without even seeming to break a sweat. I felt my stomach flip as I noticed another small posse of attackers creeping up behind her and as I lurched forward onto my hands and knees with a cry of pain, I caught the sound of heavy footsteps. Barely moments later the familiar large statue of Lincoln burst through the trees to bulldoze the men sneaking up on Octavia. She turned and rolled over his back in a swift manoeuvre that looked like it came straight from an action movie and I struggled to comprehend exactly what I was seeing as they obliterated what remained of the enemies. Whilst Lincoln stalked the area to check for any stragglers, Octavia rushed over to my side and helped me to lean back against the tree.

“I knew it was too soon for you to be out here.” She scolded as she sharply pulled up my tops to inspect my wound.

“I’m fine, I just didn’t plan to be fighting for my life this soon.” I breathed with a light smile and her face softened once she had satisfied that I hadn’t done any damage. “Let’s just not mention this to Bellamy, I’ll never see the outside of camp again.” I suggested and I noticed a sly smile on her face as she caught my eyes.

“Deal, I don’t need a lecture either.” She smirked and I was immediately relieved that she’d been understanding. “There shouldn’t have been any fighting, what was that Lincoln?” Octavia commented over her shoulder as Lincoln’s hulking form approached.

“Ice nation. The commander is having issues bringing them into line after she allied with your people.” Lincoln explained and I noticed that her expression turned cold at his statement.

“Why? I thought it would be clear that the alliance is over after she left my people to die.” She growled with a bitterness that surprised me and my confusion was evident in my expression as I awaited an explanation. From my somewhat limited memory, it seemed that the grounders had played some role in our rescue and I was unsure how much of what I remembered was correct.

“That’s as much as I could find out from the outside.” Lincoln confirmed in the controlled tone that always left me slightly mystified as to his meaning. Octavia signed with frustration as she considered me and I could tell that she was struggling to decide how to explain herself.

“The reason it took so long to rescue you all from the mountain, and why they had to resort to the radiation, is that Lexa made a deal with Cage to release all of the grounder captives in exchange for allowing him to keep you. She stood down her army and left only our forces behind, and even most of those gave up.” She recounted with a frustration evident in her body and I shook my head with a sigh.

“It’s a shitty thing to do but...I can see why she did it. I don’t know if I could’ve turned that offer down for my people.” I admitted and Octavia’s eyes widened in shock. “It explains what Bellamy mentioned about the plan going wrong at every step too.” I added thoughtfully.

“I refused to leave with Indra when the grounders retreated, that’s why I’m not her second anymore. Lincoln refused too. He actually escaped the grounders to help you all and now there’s a kill order on him for abandoning his unit.” She spoke bitterly and I shuffled in regret as I viewed the hurt in her face that she tried to cover. “No matter where our hearts are, neither of us can go back to Trikru.” She muttered and I furrowed my brows at her as she avoided my gaze.

“I’m sorry that rescuing us had such a high cost for you.” I whispered as I fiddled with my hands anxiously. It was already obvious to me how important her place with the grounders had become for her and I hated the thought that we had destroyed the one place that she felt like she belonged. She reached out to grip one of my hands and my gaze shot back up to her as she leaned into my space.

“It was worth it. I’d have given up whatever it took to save you.” She admitted with a squeeze of my hand and I smiled gratefully at her. She assisted me back to my feet whilst Lincoln busied himself with calming the horses.

“What was all of that anyway?” I asked as we fell into step together and she peeked at me in confusion. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. That. The crazy ninja shit you just did.” I revealed with a limited impersonation and I noticed a hint of amusement cut through her controlled expression.

“I already told you. I spent time with the grounders and trained with Indra.” She excused as she glanced away awkwardly and I scoffed at her poor explanation.

“Right, okay. Sorry I missed the part where you told me you’d become fucking Xena the warrior princess.” I drawled, earning a snort of laughter from Octavia that warmed my heart with nostalgia.

“I don’t even know what that is, but coming from you I know it’s probably some nerd shit. Loser.” She teased with a jab to my upper arm and I smiled at her fondly.

I was relieved when we finally reached our destination and completed the collection of medicinal herbs and various other supplies that Octavia stressed were worth the journey. My exhausted body rejoiced when her and Lincoln announced that we could head home and my heart leapt in anticipation of seeing Bellamy again soon. Although it had only been a day that we'd been apart, since the trials of Mount Weather I found that even short periods of separation gave me anxiety and I struggled not to concede to my newly clingy desires. Whatever was between us was still new and from what I’d seen of Bellamy’s romantic life so far, he didn’t seem to like to be crowded. I’d always considered myself an independent person anyway and I refused to allow my trauma to change that.

Although I enjoyed witnessing the way that Octavia’s eyes sparkled with delight around Lincoln, it only worsened my desire to hurry home when we made camp for the night and they snuggled up together to sleep. Despite the exhaustion that had been constantly hanging over me since I left camp, I struggled to drift to sleep and mostly stared up at the stars as I reflected on all of the information that I’d received in the last 24 hours. I could hardly process all of the events that had occurred in camp and the difference in people was starting to make sense.

I must have eventually fallen asleep as I recounted every time that I’d been helpless since my arrival on Earth. I relived every fight that I’d barely survived, all of the people I’d been unable to overpower and the countless beatings that I’d endured. my heart hammered as I jolted awake and I was relieved to find Octavia stirring from sleep too. I occupied myself with packing up the contents of camp as she had done yesterday and by the time that the lovebirds were prepared to leave, I was reaching a desperation that was difficult to conceal. Octavia wandered over to the horses with a yawn and scanned me with an analytical expression.

“We’d better get you back before Bel completely loses his mind.” She commented with a hint of amusement and I tried to force a laugh to avoid her scrutiny. She kissed Lincoln goodbye and we mounted the horses in a comfortable silence. I felt a wave of relief the moment that we set off towards camp and looked forward to not being on horseback for a while. “Lincoln is careful not to be seen near Arkadia.” Octavia divulged and I nodded at her sympathetically. “It’s much harder to spend time together now, but we’ll manage. I’ll figure out a way for us to return to the grounders. I got their approval once, I can do it again.” She added with determination and I hummed thoughtfully.

“Do you think…” I blurted before I had fully decided if I wanted to ask this question and cleared my throat awkwardly as she cocked a brow at me with interest. I reflected on the nightmares that I’d been having recently and could still sense the lingering helplessness at the back of my mind. “When you do join the grounders again, do you think Indra would teach me too?” I asked and Octavia’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Why would you want that?” She interrogated suspiciously and I instinctively knew that she thought I was trying to check on her, as Bellamy always did. I sighed as I considered how to explain my feelings without revealing more than I felt comfortable discussing.

“I need to be able to fight better, like you. I’ve almost been killed way too many times now, I can’t keep waiting for rescue like a damsel in distress.” I detailed and she shrugged in agreement. She glanced out at the trees thoughtfully and I waited patiently for an answer.

“She won’t accept you as you are now. You’ll have to fight, show that you can endure and, no offense, you’re not exactly in the best shape for that right now.” She analysed as she returned her view to me and I shrugged in defeat. “Indra will not just teach you to fight though. If you want her to invest time into you, you need to be willing to adapt to her ways. She will expect you to become a grounder, in every sense. I had to learn at least some of the language, I knew how to show respect and I didn’t question my orders. Can you do that?” She interrogated with a stare that chilled me to my core. I knew that I couldn’t blame her for questioning me, she knew me better than I knew myself and it wasn’t in my nature to be obedient.

“I can promise to try.” I conceded and although she sighed in a disappointed manner, I spotted a fond smile as she shook her head at me. “It's something that I need, so I’ll put in the work. From what you’ve said of your experiences it sounds like there are parts of it that I’ll get along with anyway.” I pondered and she nodded in understanding.

“Fine, for now Lincoln and I will start to train you, but I need to see that you are working hard. I won’t present the idea to Indra until I’m convinced that you’re ready.” She detailed firmly and I smiled appreciatively at her.

“That’s completely fair, I don’t want to humiliate you.” I agreed in an even tone and I noticed that her shoulders relaxed slightly at my confirmation that I understood. I had no intention of tarnishing the reputation that she’d fought for and could honestly say that I was willing to commit to this idea.

“And I want this agreement to stay between us too. I don’t want Bellamy breathing down my neck about converting you.” She ordered in a firm voice that revealed more concern that she intended and I shifted awkwardly under her scrutiny.

“I don’t know if I can agree to that Tavi.” I muttered as her gaze shot at me in surprise. “I don’t feel right about lying to him. He’s more understanding than you give him credit for.” I presented my case as well as I could whilst feeling that I wanted to disappear into the ground under her disbelieving expression and she scoffed.

“You’ve got it so bad.” She crooned as her playful smirk returned and I felt my cheeks turning pink. I quickly scrambled to think of something I could say to draw the conversation away from my feelings and instead directed her to the difficult logistics of this plan.

“Where would I even say I was going?” I suggested and she shrugged as she conceded. “You said it yourself, he’s overprotective. If I keep creeping off somewhere, he’s going to figure it out in no time and then he’ll be pissed. It’s better to just be honest upfront.” I calculated and she chuckled lightly as she shook her head at me.

“Fine. But you can convince him, you’re good at that.” She commented with a smug expression.

The rest of the journey was quiet and slow. I didn’t initiate any conversation as I focused on conserving my energy so that I wouldn’t suddenly drop off the horse in exhaustion and Octavia seemed content to remain lost in thought. Every part of my body ached and I realised that the lack of care for myself in Mount Weather had taken a toll on me. If I was to be successful in training then I would need to build some muscle, which would require proper meals and ensuring that I slept enough to recover from the exertion. I had forgotten what it was like to have routines and to invest in myself, but now that life had returned to normal I acknowledged that I needed to treat myself with kindness. I knew that Bellamy would be furious with me if he realised how little I’d truly listened to the needs of my body since waking in the new camp. Mentally, I resolved that once this journey was over, I would be less self punishing and would be honest with others about my limits.

I felt a wave of relief wash over me as I recognised the field outside of the gates of our new camp and knew that I would soon be gazing into the comfort of Bellamy’s warm, whisky eyes. Octavia glanced at me with a smug smile and I tried to conceal my joy.

“I know this has been tough on you, more than you want to tell me. You made it though, you can still survive out here. I’m glad that I got a chance to show you that.” She breathed with an encouraging tone before the twinkle of mischief returned to her eyes. “Nearly back to him, you did well to manage a whole two days apart.” She winked teasingly as I glared back.

We approached the gates slowly and I was glad to find that although there were people milling around, there wasn’t a crowd to witness our return. I felt myself becoming light headed from the energy that it took to keep myself on the horse as the gates opened to allow us inside. We trotted into the courtyard and I noticed the workers part to allow Bellamy to rush through to greet us. Octavia quickly hopped down as I slowed to a stop and considered whether I had the strength remaining to safely dismount.

“Thank god, you’re back.” Bellamy breathed in a heavy relief as he pulled Octavia into an embrace that she quickly shook off. I shuffled on the horse as I struggled to twist my legs to the same side ready to hop down and Bellamy jogged over to assist me. Before I could protest, he reached up to place his hands on my hips and supported me to the ground gently. I smiled thankfully at him as he obsessively checked me over and basked in the simple pleasure of the sight of him. “You look tired.” He commented as he met my eyes with concern and I forced a smile in response.

“I’m fine. Glad to be home.” I stated as I flashed him a meaningful look and he nodded in acknowledgement. I wanted to tell him how tough it had been, how I had realised that I wasn’t fully recovered yet but this wasn’t the place for that conversation. As my gaze roamed him, I realised that he also appeared to be tired and his hands shook lightly in place on my shoulders. I could tell that my absence had been challenging for him too and I was surprised by his nervous behaviour. “I’m okay Bel.” I emphasised, causing the knit in his brow to finally release. He removed his grip on my shoulders and cleared his throat as he stepped out of my space. I glanced around to notice several of the members of camp had stopped to observe our return, including Harper who smiled at us with amusement.

“I know.” He remarked as he fidgeted in an effort to seem relaxed. “You need to give your weapons back, they want to keep track of them here. I’ll catch up with you at my quarters later.” He informed, before he reluctantly strode away. Octavia chuckled at him under her breath and shrugged at me.

“Good luck selling him on you spending more time out of camp.” She laughed and took hold of the reins of the horses with a knowledgeable confidence. “I’ll take them back to the stable, you look like you could do with a nap.” She ordered as she wandered off and I remained rooted to the spot.

I glanced around at the people who busied themselves in the courtyard and found myself desperately searching for something that could distract me from my temptation to collapse into the safety of Bellamy’s bed. It was only mid afternoon and I felt that I still needed to make myself useful. I rubbed at my eyes as a yawn escaped my lips and my tired legs moved to lead me towards sleep without awaiting a conscious decision. The journey to his quarters was a blur as I shuffled along in a delirious state and practically fell through the door into the room. I knew that Bellamy was likely to be busy for at least the next few hours and although I’d prefer his soothing presence whilst I slept, I wasted no time in dropping into the bed. I wrapped myself in the covers that fortunately still carried his familiar scent and drifted straight to sleep.

My mind was still plagued with the same chilling nightmares of the past few nights and when I next woke, I didn’t feel at all rested. I could tell from the low light in the room that I’d been asleep at least a few hours and although I only felt a slight difference to earlier, I dragged myself back into camp. I followed Bellamy’s orders to return my weapons to our armoury, other than the shock baton which I ensured to keep hidden from sight. After a brief conversation with some campers, I discovered that Bellamy was currently instructing guard training and would be required to attend a debriefing afterwards. Instead of sulking over his absence, I busied myself with some simple tasks that would not contradict Abby’s orders for light labour only.

It was a struggle to keep my attention on the job as my head grew heavy and it was a continued effort to stay standing. I knew that I needed sleep, a full proper night of sleep but I didn’t want to ask for help until there was no other choice. I mentally asserted that I just needed Bellamy to be able to sleep properly and that by tomorrow morning I would be fine. As the daylight faded from the sky I felt my eyes often drifting closed, despite my strain to keep working under the weak lanterns and eventually I had to concede that it was time to quit.

I was disappointed that I hadn’t seen Bellamy return yet as I wandered to his quarters and the feeling only intensified when I stepped inside to find him absent. A bitter sigh escaped my lips as I accepted that I couldn’t battle to remain awake any longer. It was a struggle to get undressed through the heaviness of my limbs and as I carefully placed my clothing on a chair, leaving me in only my vest and pants, Bellamy entered the room behind me. He broke into a relieved smile at the sight of me and I couldn’t deny how pleased I was to see him. He wandered into the space and started to remove the new guard jacket that he wore.

“Hey, I didn’t expect to be back this late. Kane kept us hanging on in a briefing.” He commented idly as he kicked off his boots and generally made himself comfortable. I watched him through bleary eyes with a pang of desperation as I longed for his comfort and the moment that glanced up at me, his expression changed to concern. “What’s wrong?” He queried with a jagged voice and his worried eyes drew from me the emotion that I battled to conceal. I rushed forward to embrace him and threw my arms around his waist as I buried my face in his chest. He jolted in surprise but immediately pulled me into him and rested his cheek on my head. One of his arms wrapped around me whilst the other hand stroked my hair in a soothing manner and I felt a lump rising in my throat.

“I’m just...I’m glad to be back with you.” I breathed against him and felt him nod in agreement. I reflected on my promise to myself on the way back from my journey with Octavia to be more honest and involuntarily felt myself gulp as I considered the idea. “I’m so exhausted I can hardly stand.” I confessed in a quiet voice and I felt him tense at my words.

“Too spoiled with beds to sleep on the ground any more Love?” He teased, although his tone was too forced to properly cover his alarm. I couldn’t bring myself to lie to him and struggled to produce a way to explain my fears without descending into topics that I wasn’t ready to discuss yet. When I didn’t respond in time, Bellamy pushed me backwards to scrutinise my face but kept his hands protectively on my shoulders. I felt even more incapable of speaking with his gaze burning into me.

“Hard to drop off without you.” I whispered as I avoided meeting his eyes. I attempted to pass my reaction off as merely embarrassment but I knew that he sensed my vulnerability.

“Well, that’s an easy fix.” He stated as he released me from his gasp to quickly undress. He took my hand to lead me to the bed and we climbed in together. Without a moment of hesitation, he guided me into place so that my back was against his chest and wrapped me tightly in his arms. His hair tickled my cheek as he leaned forward to place a lingering kiss there and I felt myself relaxing into him. “Now we can both get some sleep.” He muttered in a confession that I was unsure if he intended to make.

I didn’t enjoy the idea of Bellamy suffering in any way but it was a strange comfort to discover that he struggled without me. I was unsure why this was still a surprising revelation, and as the budding romance between us was only young, I could hardly believe I was lucky enough to have this time together. It had been a substantial time of convincing myself that he couldn’t want the same thing that I did and I wondered how long it would take to undo this belief. I felt myself easily drifting into sleep now that I was in the one place I felt most at home: his arms.

For a while my exhaustion provided a heavy, dreamless sleep as Bellamy’s protection warded off any fear, but the memories gradually returned. I found myself strolling through the eerily similar halls of Mount Weather alone. My footsteps echoed through the empty space hauntingly and I moved at an excruciatingly slow pace. There was a sound in the distance that I couldn’t quite register and I followed it with a sense of foreboding. The noise led me into a large room lined with the tiny cages that I had once been captive inside and I felt my heartbeat quicken.

As my gaze roamed over the space, the noise grew louder and bought my attention to the centre of the room. There was a single operating table under a blinding light that streamed from the ceiling and I suddenly recognised the horrifying whirr of a drill as it tore through bone. My breaths became shallow and rapid as Harper’s screaming filled my mind. I watched Dr Singh torment her with an overpowering feeling of helplessness and although I willed myself to do something, I couldn’t move or make a sound. I became aware of the piles of bodies that surrounded me, filling the space between where I stood and the operating table. The familiar faces were frozen in a state of agony and I could hardly catch my breath as I scanned them. Fox, Miller, the other girls who had kept me company, the groups of kids that I’d rescued from guards when looking for Bellamy; all of their lifeless faces stared back at me until my gaze fell on the bloody bodies of Jasper and Monty. The gut wrenching wail that escaped my lips caused a jolt of surprise even to me and I realised that my cheeks were wet from tears.

There was a heavy set of footsteps that caught my attention and I raised my eyes to witness Cage strolling over to the table from out of the darkness at the far end of the room. He lifted Harper’s limp body from the surface and threw it to the ground as if she were merely trash. Dr Singh turned to face me and I realised with horror that her white coat was soaked in blood. She held her red hands out to me and her determined eyes made a shiver run down my spine.

“She’s the last one.” Dr Singh informed with a delighted smile and Cage began to stride toward me with a menacing expression.

He reached me at an impossible speed and although every part of my body struck out at him in desperation, I was no match for his strength. I felt like a rag doll in his grip and was struck with the realisation of how immensely weak my body was. Despite my desperate struggles, he easily dragged me toward the table and I screeched out in despair. As he buckled me into the restraints, I heard my heartbeat hammering in my ears and felt as if I was having a heart attack. Cage unexpectedly wrapped his hands around my throat and my eyes widened in shock as he began to choke me.

“They’re all dead Indigo. You couldn’t save them.” Cage’s taunting voice filled my consciousness as I battled for air and could feel myself becoming light headed. “You failed. You’re too weak.” He growled as I wheezed and felt hot tears roll down my cheeks. The grip on my neck became so ferocious that it lifted me from the table and my shoulders thrashed against the hard surface as he shook me. The room swirled around me and it became impossible to focus as my head swayed. Without warning, my surroundings disappeared as my eyes snapped open and Bellamy’s anxious face filled my vision. The dark room around me slowly came into view and I realised that I was still in bed in Bellamy’s room.

“It’s just a dream Indie, you’re safe.” Bellamy soothed as his cool grip remained on my shoulders and I finally understood that he had been shaking me. My cheeks were soaked with real tears and I felt a cold sweat covering my entire body. I brought my eyes to him with a lingering feeling of terror and he pulled me into his embrace. He wrapped his arms tightly around me and placed a careful kiss on my forehead. “You were screaming. I couldn’t think of a kinder way to wake you, I’m sorry.” He mumbled as he wound his fingers through my hair and I felt my rapid heartbeat gradually calming against him. I could still sense the distress of the dream hanging over me and the memory of Harper’s screams were refreshed by it. I felt myself trembling in his hold as I recalled the sound and he sighed gently above me. “You...you can talk to me, you know that don’t you?” He whispered with a vulnerability in his tone that made my heart ache. I took a deep breath before leaning back so that I could look up into his sympathetic face.

“The things that happened in Mount Weather...I saw some dark shit and it’s not easy to just forget.” I explained and watched as his brows furrowed together. “Finding you and Octavia alive, it’s more than I could ever have asked for. I’m thankful for every second of the life that I have now and although it takes away most of the hurt that was eating away at me, it doesn’t remove the things that I saw, or worse, that I did.” My voice faded to a shameful whisper by the end and he tilted his head at me in confusion. “I did things to survive, things I never thought I would do. And the strangest part is that I don’t regret them, because they led me back to you both. If anything, I blame those sick assholes for forcing my hand.” I confessed as I avoided meeting his gaze. He gently lifted my chin to face him and his eyes were filled with emotion as he viewed me.

“Whatever you did, I know that you had to do. They wanted to kill every last one of you. You survived because of your actions, don't feel like you should regret that.” He asserted with an intense gaze and I felt a weight lift from my chest as I nodded back. “These nightmares, they’re of Mount Weather?” He investigated with reluctance and I hummed quietly in confirmation. “What can I do to help?” He breathed and the genuine tone in his voice made my eyes fill with tears. I considered my words carefully as I analysed the way that I’d felt each time I woke and tried to make sense of the jumbled images of the dreams.

“I need to stop being afraid.” I assessed and noticed a thinly veiled anger in his face at this statement. I knew that he was furious that anyone had affected me this much and it only further revealed how much effort he was investing into remaining calm for my comfort. “The only way I can think to do that is to prove to myself that I’m strong enough to protect myself now. I almost died more times than I can count in that Mountain, I barely scraped through those fights and honestly...I didn’t exactly take the best care of myself whilst there. I’ve gotten weak and complacent. I need to know that I can’t be captured like that again, I need to be strong.” I explained and I noticed a wry smile creep into the corners of his lips.

“I can make you a guard, I’ll train you personally.” He offered with the slightest hint of mischief which earned an involuntary chuckle under my breath.

“It’s a kind offer Bel, but I was thinking of something more extreme.” I divulged which caused him to view me with suspicion. “I’ve seen Tavi practising, I want to be able to fight like her. She’s offered to train me with Lincoln’s help, but I don’t want to go behind your back.” I detailed and flinched as he rolled his eyes at me in exasperation.

“Indie, come on.” He groaned. “You’ve said yourself that you feel weak. The grounder method of training is to beat the shit out of you until you learn, I’ve seen it happen in this camp! At least with me you know that I’ll be careful with you.” He justified and I could sense the same protective authority in him that I’d seen him address Octavia with countless times.

“I wont be stupid. I’ll start resting and I’ll take care of myself. I won’t take on any actual combat training until I’m well enough, purely theory until then, I promise.” I pleaded and although I could still sense the annoyance in his posture, his resolve was visibly crumbling. “This is important to me Bel, I need to be able to fight for myself. I can’t always leave it to you to save me. And maybe the distraction will help me to move on.” I appealed to him and he shrugged in defeat.

“Fine, if it’s that important to you. But if I see you covered in bruises, it’s done.” He conceded and I smiled as I agreed to his terms. Bellamy took my face in his hands and placed a gentle kiss on my lips with an affection that made my heart swell. “I won’t let anything happen to you again.” He whispered as he leaned his forehead against mine in a tender motion and I felt the last of my fear dissolve in his reassurance.

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that-gal-kay · 5 years

Note

Hi! I really loved those last two Hamilton fics and I wanted to give you a few prompts to see what you do with em! So, from that list, how about "Missing and Presumed Dead" and "Anger Born of Worry"? Thank you and keep up the great work!

Thanks for the prompt nice Anon-friend! This fic was just kinda…non-stop. My goal was 1,000 words and it ended up over 2,000. Have some exhaustion and angst and all sorts of complicated feelings with an ambiguous ending. Please note, alas, this is not super edited.

Wanna send me prompts? My ask box is open! Send me prompts from this list or whatever else might pop into your head!

Stay tuned for short Baseball AU and Sci Fi AU scene fics tomorrow!

Prodigal

By the time the camp comes into view the only force keeping Hamilton moving is sheer stubborn willpower. There is no part of his body that doesn’t hurt. He is cold, aching, utterly exhausted from walking a night and a day. His left side twinges with every step, ribs aching thanks to a near miss with his own dying mare.

He just needs to make it a little farther, a few more steps, and he can curl up and sleep in his own tent.

Funny, Hamilton didn’t think he’d ever long for the conditions in the Continental Army camp, but right now even his worn, thin blanket and rickety pallet creates the most welcoming image.

“The password?”

Alexander startles, lifts his head a little too fast. Woozy. He didn’t notice the sentry at the outpost. A boy a year or two younger than him steps forward, his musket clutched at his side. He doesn’t seem to recognize Hamilton, but he does not point the weapon toward him.

“Password,” He parrots. He wracks his brain and comes up with nothing.

“My apologies sir, I must ask. Orders from General Washington himself.”

Hamilton frowns, “I don’t know it,” He admits. He wills someone to walk by and recognize him, but for now, it’s just the two of them.

The sentry stares at him for a long moment, “Your name, sir?”

“Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton.”

Hamilton doesn’t have time to register the shift in the sentry’s demeanor, but in an instant the younger man has his weapon trained on him. He quickly raises his hands.

“No sudden moves!” the sentry shouts. “Any enemy spy is setting foot in this camp a free man under my watch. Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton was killed in an ambush yesterday, according to General Washington himself. He cannot be standing before me now!”

“I am no spy!” Alexander retorts. He feels his face flush red and hot, but that may be more exhaustion than anger. “And I am not dead!”

He sways a moment, spreads his feet farther apart to steady himself. If this is not resolved in the next few minutes Hamilton is sure he’s going to fall asleep where he stands.

“Do not move!”

Hamilton sighs, “Send for John Laurens. He’ll identify me.”

The sentry seems confused, unsure of how to proceed.

“Or you can escort me there and any of the General’s aides will tell you who I am.”

For a long moment- too long for Alexander, the sentry considers it. Hamilton’s patience ends there.

“Sir, I have walked for hours, after a longer night than I care to explain to you. Either escort me to the General’s headquarters or shoot me and answer to the General anyway.”

It’s blunt, but it works.

They do not have to travel far for men to begin to recognize Hamilton. The handful of shouts blur and twist into indistinguishable sounds. He walks toward the main building on instinct- his reserves are draining quickly. Just a few more steps, a few more steps and he can rest.

He almost fails to recognize a pair of figures crossing his path, at least until one of them notices him first.

“Alexandre?! Hamilton, you’re—”

He is pulled into a crushing hug before his mind fully registers the familiar Lafayette shaped outline crowding him. Were he more aware of his surroundings Hamilton would have balked at the public display of affection. He might have anyway, if not for Lafayette’s arm holding tight against his painfully bruised ribs. What he intends as an admonishment turns into a whimper, and the Frenchman instantly releases him.

Lafayette says something to the sentry to bid him to stand down and return to his post. Hamilton stares past at the man who Lafayette had been walking with.

He cannot say what kind of reaction he was expecting. General Washington is not an emotional man, especially in public, but he does not even acknowledge Hamilton. He stares at him, brows drawn, his expression unreadable. Alexander has taken it upon himself to understand those expressions, emotions, even the most subtle ones when there is little other evidence to go by.

Seconds tick by and Hamilton finally snaps to attention, recalling the audience. “Sir,” He greets, the word rolls strangely off his tongue. “Any rumor you may have heard of my demise was untrue, clearly.” He thinks he tries for a light tone, but he does not hear much of his own voice. It’s now, after his sudden jerky movement to salute, that his body tells him his energy is spent, and dark spots dance across his vision.

His shoulders slump, knees give out. Alexander falls forward and vaguely realizes he is about to pass out with a full audience observing. An audience including—

Strong hands arrest his fall,shift him so he’s resting against something soft. He lifts his head, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Later Hamilton will be mortified at the thought of showing such weakness in front of witnesses.

Oh. Right. And he’s just collapsed right into the General’s arms. Even more horrifying. Washington his holding him up, scrutinizing him, his expression unchanged. He says something- maybe- it’s too difficult to make out, but the sounds are short, clipped.

As the darkness reaches up to take him, Alexander realizes the General is angry.

Of course. He has every right to be. His mission was a failure. He failed. Failed. Everything he’s worked for could end right here, a notion more heart wrenching than the notion of half the camp watching him.

His mind only gives him a second more to dwell on that thought before exhaustion drags him into a blissfully unfeeling nothing.

Awareness returns slowly, candlelight snaking through the darkness at a gradual pace. It’s the kindest part of returning to consciousness, because the more awake he becomes, the more he feels the hurt in his ribs, the more the pounding in his head.

A groan escapes Alexander before he can stop it.

He is alone, he realizes before he opens his eyes. If someone else were here surely there would have been a reaction to the sound that crept from his throat.

It must be nearly nightfall, judging by the dimness of the room. He isn’t sure how long he’s been asleep- a few hours or a whole day or more? Alexander groans again, rolls his weight to one side and sits up. He moves slowly, fighting against the flare of pain in his side, not to mention a rising tide of dizziness and nausea. He needs water.

Probably food too.

Careful as he is to move slow, the bed he’s sat up on eventually has an edge. Alexander doesn’t notice it until he loses his balance. He flails arms out, but air is the only thing to grasp. He pitches forward and with last minute realization notices he’s going to wind up face planting on the floor.

Except he doesn’t.

For the second time that day he does not collapse entirely, but he is caught. There is a strong arm slung around his shoulders, pulling him back.

Humiliating. Again.

“You’re in no shape to be trying to move around, Hamilton.”

Humiliating. And a little startling. Alexander awakened certain he was alone, but there’s no mistaking the General’s voice behind him. He’s taken so by surprised that he doesn’t muster any resistance as he’s carefully placed in a reclining position again.

His gaze moves slowly, lingers for a long moment at the ceiling overhead before shifting to the other side and where General Washington sits in a chair next to the bed- so close that Hamilton cannot believe he missed him at first.

The General watches him with that same expression he saw before he fainted. It’s like a wall of stone that Hamilton cannot see past.

Seconds turn into a minute, maybe two and Alexander shifts uncomfortably against the thin mattress. The silence uncomfortable too, especially as he waits for the other shoe to drop.

He clears his throat, “How long was I…”

“Most of the day,” The General replies. “It’s evening now. The doctor’s been by to see you. He tells me you’ll recover with a few days’ rest.”

Alexander scoffs out of some deeply instilled instinct. “I’ll be rested well enough to return to my duties tomorrow morning.”

A sigh.

“I’m only a little sore.”

“Alexander…”

“There’s no need for me to take days of rest. I’m perfectly capable of copying and translating letters.”

“Alexander.” There’s a bit more warning in the tone this time.

No. He does not need to be coddled when he just needs one night’s sleep to prove himself useful again. “Sir, I can write at my best without needing to feel my best. I—”

“Hamilton!” A slam of something, maybe the chair the General is seated in, or his fist smashing against the wall behind the bed, Alexander doesn’t quite notice where it came from. The sound makes him startle, and his eyes go wide.

The General is still angry.

“Your Excellency, I…”

“Hamilton. You will rest here until I myself deem you recovered enough to resume your duties. You will not be leaving this bed until then.”

Washington shifts quickly in his seat so it appears he’s looming over Alexander’s prone position. There’s a flash of something in his eyes, more than anger. It’s enough that Hamilton nearly wants to bury himself under the blanket. He holds firm.

“Sir, I don’t need to be treated like a child. I can manage my—”

He stops abruptly when the General reaches out and grasps his shoulder. The grip is firm, but not painful. His eyes lock onto Hamilton’s and there is something deep and painful there.

“You’ll stay right where you are and recover,” Washington’s voice almost breaks midway through the sentence. He lowers his head a moment and Hamilton notices a tick in his jaw.

When he looks up again there is some other emotion there. It’s not something he recognizes right away.

“You were dead, Hamilton.”

“Sir, I was not!” He tilts his head, puts more energy into the denial than he has to spare. When Alexander tries to sit up, the hand on his shoulder pushes back down more firmly.

“Missing after your mission, all we were told was you were shot, drowned trying to flee the enemy.”

Hamilton feels his face flush red. His mission incomplete, failed. The General and his closest friends believing him dead. He curls his fists against the blanket.

“I’ll not have you die again when I can prevent it, Hamilton.”

There it is. Were he feeling more himself, in less pain, Alexander is sure he would have seen that statement coming. As noble as the General’s sentiment is, he doesn’t want it. Not now.

Not ever.

“I’ve told you, sir, I am more than willing to die for our cause.”

“I am not willing to lose you for it.”

Alexander furrows his brow, studies Washington for a long moment, teeth clenched. He’s clearly in no condition to argue, to make his point now. He probably cannot stand if he tried.

But he has a point he wants to, no, needs to make.

“I’d rather resign my commission, sir, than be kept out of the war itself.”

“Hamilton.”

No. He has worked too hard to wind up a footnote now. He will not lose what he’s worked so hard for.

“Sir…”

The General stands, holds up his hand and Alexander shuts his mouth. The older man stands, his eyes at last shift away from Hamilton. “Enough. We’ll discuss this later,” He says, blunt.

He reaches the door, pulls it open.

Hamilton props himself up on his elbows, winces at the ache in his side. “But—”

Washington has already moved on. He doesn’t look back, but Alexander can just tell that the stony look has returned. “I’ll send Laurens to look after you. In the meantime stay put.”

The General steps out.

Hamilton is left behind, exhausted, frustrated angry.

The door shuts harder than he expected.

And that’s the end of it.

Except it’s not.

#hamilton #hamilton fanfic #fanfiction #alexander hamilton #george washington #whump #angst #worry #presumed dead #anger #frustration #other complicated emotions #ambiguous/open ending #not really a happy one #it got weird

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catch22inareddress · 6 years

Text

Twin Phœnix Chapter Two Breaking the Shackles

Words 3700+

This one has some mentions of violence and triggers

A solemn Bucky escorted you around the property after grabbing you both a beer and finding a tire swing that overlooked the bonfire and entertainment. "May I?" You nodded as he gently started to push you, careful not to let his hands stray and make you nervous. If silence was a person she was straight up laughing at you and how self-conscious you looked next to this handsome, beefy biker, pushing you on a damn tire swing. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, second to riding his Harley.

"Where do you want me to start, doll?" There was that damn pet name that he blessed you with. His cologne mixed with the leather and exhaust was already strangely intoxicating. You mentally cursed yourself for losing vision of what was important. Wanda and her safety. Your eyes immediately looked over towards the barn, the lights were still bright, and it looked peacefully calm. "What does the club really do, why is it I'm not afraid of you?"

He seemed to know what you what you were implying, he picked up that you could read people, better than even his best friend. He would admit this to few, but he found this fascinating to him. He couldn't bullshit you even if he wanted to, so he got straight to the point. Bucky blew out a harsh breath before choosing his words wisely, careful to not to cause alarm when he just got you here.

"The club shelters people, women and kids from time to time. Battered and hiding from husbands or others, on the run. We help them relocate and give them a fresh start. We have chapters all over, and sometimes the government will put them with a division like us to keep them instead of witness protection while awaiting trial." He came around, halting the swing and kneeling in front of you. His face was the most vulnerable you had ever seen him, and you wanted to know why but you knew that you didn't deserve the answer. Not when you held too many secrets from him.

"We could tell that you and Wanda were on the run." You tried to keep your voice even and gripped the ropes as he lowered his head while laying his cards on the table. "What else?"

He looked up at you with an almost pained expression. "I figure Wanda was the one and my money is on you getting her out and then fleeing." You tore your eyes away from him, not sure what to say. It was all so new and while you wanted to trust him, you couldn't not yet. Your instincts told you one thing, but your experience screamed another.

"I-I can't do this." You stood up moving past him and heard him mutter profanities under his breath. Typical hot head. "Wait! Don't go." You scoffed at his request. "I don't owe you anything, Barnes. We don't owe you anything!"

He seized your arm, and you turned around instantly slapping him out of impulse and regretting it. His chocolate hair lay sprawled across his reddened cheek for a moment before he lowered his face and put it behind his ears again. His shoulders were down, and he looked smaller than before, and you were so ashamed of yourself.

"I-I'm fuck. Ss-sorry B-" He looked at you but instead of the rage that you were expecting it was the sorrow which confused you entirely. It thoroughly shocked you to your core. How a hot-tempered man who would throw some of the best curveballs of sarcasm and sass your way just got bitch slapped by you. Instead of being an ounce of angry, he looked like he was about to...cry.

"No, doll. That's on me; I shouldn't have grabbed you like that. I'm sorry. Please just don't go. I shouldn't have said anything and Steve would kill me if he knew I scared you and Wanda off. I just wanted -needed you to know that we can keep you both safe." His eyes were still pleading with you as he walked passed to the bonfire and left you standing in the field. Shell-shocked and pondering the last hour with him and the events that followed.

You owed Wanda that promise because he sure as hell surprised you tonight.

You went and sat next to Loki and Steve with Bucky in the near distance just watching you behind cool eyes. You texted Wanda who sent a picture that Vis took of her. She looked so happy with the baby horse that you could only smile at her goofy ass self. Steve leaned over and looked at the picture. "She can come over anytime and see them, whether we are here or not."

"Geez, Rogers! Nosey much! You're like a fuckin ninja." He laughed it off and leaned back in his chair, shrugging your offensive outburst off. "Glad to know all of my skills in the military have finally come to good use. I always wanted to be a phone creeper." He winked at you, and you found yourself loosing up even more.

"How long did you serve?" Your voice was low as you took a swig of beer not wanting to pry but feeling like he opened the topic in the first place. "I did four tours. Captain. These goons served under me." He pointed his beer to Sam and Buck, the former grinned proudly, and the latter just nodded.

"Why did you guys get out?" Sam was the first to reply to your inquiry. "Turns out I follow Steve, just a little bit slower. I did one more tour and then came here."

You turned to Steve, but he just looked at Bucky for his answer. Buck looked at you in the eyes for the first time since the field and spoke. "Steve got out right after I was injured. We grew up together in Brooklyn, like brothers he and I. We came here for....my sister." His voice broke towards the end, and you knew not to press him for any other information.

Steve was the first to speak after that. "Yea, turns out we're all the kinds of strays that became a family. Everyone that ends up here either passes through quickly or stays as the family." You nodded your head and looked at the orange and red embers in the fire in front of you.

"Which one are the Maximoff twins?" You bit your lip to keep it from quivering. "I wish to hell I knew." You said barely above a whisper, but you were still sure that the men heard you because of the solemn nod.

By the time Wanda made it back with Vis it was about two am and you were nearly nodding off on the chair with Loki's jacket covering you and Thor singing some ridiculous song about Thor's Mighty Hammer in reference to his dick. Sam had already gone home, and Vis had reluctantly said goodbye to Wanda.

As you were standing up to leave Bucky came up to you, Steve and Wanda. "Hey, why don't you girls stay here tonight? It'll be safer than driving home this late." Steve's eyes lit up. "That's a great idea, we have two guest rooms that you ladies can have tonight." Steve rubbed his hands together excitedly at the thought of you two spending the night while clear apprehension stained your features.

"I-I don't know." You said while looking at you sister, Wanda spoke up and leaned over out of earshot from the men. "You don't sleep well as it is. Maybe having them close will help? You can let your guard down for one night with them close. C'mon." When she pulled back, you could finally see how concerned she was of you, and you felt guilty. You didn't want her to worry about you, truth be told you thought you were hiding the restless nights well, but it must've been the twintuition, as you called it, that was tattle-tailing on you.

"Ok, we can stay. For you." She smiled, and all of you walked to the house. As luck would have it your room was next to Bucky's while hers was next to Steve's. Due to Bucky's confession, you didn't find it odd that there were extra toothbrushes in the bathroom, which you eagerly used. When you heard a soft knock on the door, you opened it assuming Wanda would be standing there; instead, you found a timid biker with his long hair pulled back in a bun at the nape of his neck. He looked positively sinful, and you had to shake your thoughts out of the gutter and reign them in.

You allowed yourself to do a double take to capture all of his features, chiseled jaw and bright eyes all customarily hidden behind a cloud of smoke and dark hair. "Something wrong, doll? I'm sorry to bother you." You smiled shaking the thoughts away, again. "No, no. Just like the hair pulled back. I can actually see you." At that moment if someone said you could make a biker like Bucky blush, you would've told them to shut the fuck up and stuff it where the sun doesn't shine but here he was. Pink as a My Little Pony.

He tucked a stray hair behind his ear and cleared his throat. "I'll have to remember that. I -uh brought you some clothes to sleep in. Steve gave some to Wanda, there's food and drink in the fridge downstairs if you need anything. Make yourself at home. If you need me, you can bang on the wall or come in." You snorted. "I can assure you I'm not just walking in your room. I don't want my eyes tainted with whatever the hell you do in there after hours. I have enough nightmares as it is. "

He laughed at your snark. "Oh, I can guarantee you that would want to keep your eyes opened to anything happening in my room. I can chase away any bad dreams, baby girl. " Your mouth opened and then closed a few times before he laughed again. "Never thoughtta you as the speechless type, baby girl."

And just like that you two were back to normal, and the field was an incident of the past. He seemed fine, but you still felt that you needed to address it, even though he didn't care. He was an enigma of a man, and you couldn't figure him out. You had your share of biker experience, and they were all bad news, but this club was different, a family and not a pack of rabid dogs.

After he bid you goodnight, you changed into Bucky's clothes and climbed into bed wistfully wishing he had worn them because you desired his scent.

Bucky was unsettled, and couldn't find sleep even if he saw himself hunting it like a sniper in the army. He finally threw off the covers and walked out to his balcony only to find Steve smoking a cigarette from his own balcony

. He chuckled from a distance. "You too, huh?' Bucky just leaned against the railing and lit the cigarette, watching the plume of smoke lift above his tired head. "Yep." Popping the "P" at the end.

"Would it happen to have anything to do with that feisty little number only a wall away?" Bucky shot a side sneer to Steve in hopes that it would shut him up, but he knew better. "You understand we need to get her to talk. With Hydra looking for them, it'll only be a matter of time before they're found. We need to know how deep they are in and what we’re up against if we have any chance of offering them protection. We can call in another chapter...." Bucky huffed and ran his hair too harshly through his hair and winced at the pain. Steve stared at him, deciding against speaking any further about the woman in the house

"I know! I just, I don't want to scare her. I almost fucked up in the field earlier, and I was afraid she was going to take off. I think Wanda would put up a fight to stay. I know she likes it here but I can see Y/N fighting it, and I just hate that she won't trust me." Steve took his feet off of the railing and stood, flicking his cigarette off into the grass.

"She's scared man. We've seen it one too many times, the only difference is that she trusts you more than any of us. Even Loki. They have a friendship, but he says she won't tell him anything about her past." The pressure was immense at this moment to keep you two safe. Not only had he never felt this aching pull to any person before this was the first time anyone that came here took to him like you did. He fought and defended all of the women and families that show up on the doorstep but they always gravitated to Steve or Sam, they oozed charm and kindness. He didn't have that allure. Sure by the time they left everyone had a silent appreciation for him, and hugs were shared, but still. This was definitely different.

He was scared shitless of fucking this up and losing you before he even had you. Bucky wanted nothing more than to earn your trust and make you and Wanda call this place home; but how does one soften the edges around years of razor-sharp knives sharpening every corner of his soul?

He gave a mock salute to his previous Captain, which earned him a middle finger salute. Bucky walked into his room, and before he could lay down, he heard you from the other room. Whimpering in your sleep and his fingers twitched at his side. The internal debate of whether to go to you or stay was instantly decided when he heard your pained cry making him open his door with more force than necessary. His primal instant was to get to you, and he couldn't explain it.

He knocked on the door at first, and your cries were silenced. "It's me, doll. Can I come in?" He couldn't make out your response, so he just decided to open the door, and he saw you sitting on the edge of the bed with your head in your hands. On sheer impulse, he found himself kneeling in front of you and cautiously taking your hands in his.

You were the first to break the silence after he held your delicate hands in his larger calloused ones. "Sorry, ya know for waking you?" He chuckled at your concern for his beauty sleep. "I'll survive. I sleep for shit anyways."

"Bed too soft?" He looked quizzically into your red-rimmed eyes. "I just heard... that coming back from the military and sleeping on the ground and shit, it's hard to sleep sometimes on the mattress?" He barked out a laugh at your random rambling, and his toothy smile made you grin, forgetting about your heart-wrenching nightmare. You were sure that one look from James Barnes could chase away the devil’s army.

"Nah. Not the bed, doll." You patted the spot next to you before you scooted up against the headboard. He took your invitation and lazily sprawled out on the end of the bed, careful to give you the distance you desired but the company you needed.

"So what keeps you up then?" His brows furrowed and he looked at his hands. You could finally see as your eyes adjusted and took in the full sight of his arm. He glanced at it and then you, as you saw all of the scars from the shrapnel and burns, mapped out over his entire left appendage. "I shouldn't have asked." He shrugged and looked at you for a beat.

"Question for a question?" You bit your lip at his proposal and were reluctant, but the curiosity of being able to get to know this ex-military and baffling enigma of a biker was currently overpowering your self-preservation. "Ok." He allowed a smirk to grace his darkened features and you pulled your bare legs to your chest.

"So, Bucky. What happened to your arm?" The man sighed and looked off into the distance but began, not giving you a chance to regret or apologize for asking. "Saved a kid from a blast in the military. Nearly lost my arm. I- um... Steve found me. Carried me two miles with the skin and muscle just..hanging off. I have a shit ton of nerve damage, but I was able to keep the arm. I don't feel a lot of pain in it most days. Then other days it's all I feel, damndest thing." His voice was careful, yet you could see the pain behind his eyes, no doubt recounting all the disturbing memories that burned his thoughts at the mere mention of what happened.

"Thank you for telling me." He nodded, and you braced yourself for his question. "When was the last time someone took you on a date, doll." You sat there in silence for a stone cold moment. You were sure he would question something a bit more severe from you and Wanda's past but instead this?

You laughed trying to keep the blush at bay. "It's been a while." He gave you his best look of ridicule. "Ya gotta do better than that, woman."

"Fine. It was New Years a year ago." His eyes widened. "You shittin' me?" You shook your head at his doe-eyed look of wonder. "I had a lot going on. Plus there was another guy that I..worked with. He showed too much interest in me and scared a lot of the good ones off." You were risking giving him too much information, but you felt protected with him and for once, really wanted to let someone in.

"Your turn, Y/N." You were thankful that he didn't press. "When was the last time that you had someone?" He thought for a moment at your question. "Well, that's a loaded question. Someone could go a number of ways. I had a lady friend a few months back but it’s no strings, we have an understanding. The last Someone that I had was when I was in the military. I came back less of a man, and she didn't want me. She left me ...in the hospital."

"Wow. I'm--." He cut you off before you could say another word. "The thing I've learned over the years that matters is the people that stay, not the people that leave. I couldn't give two fucks about Dot. I do care about everyone in my life now and those who care enough to stay."

For some unknown reason that you couldn't describe for the first time in your life, you wanted to stay. For yourself. You know the stillness was thick, but you couldn't wrap your head around the thought that had just absorbed you and what it could possibly mean. Bucky thankfully broke it with his velvety smooth voice.

"My turn?" You simply nodded and gave him a smile. "Do you trust me?" It was a simple question, but you knew it meant so much more than if he was asking anyone else. You trusted your instincts and needed to tell your previous encounters to shut the fuck up.

"Yes, Bucky. I do. I don't know why I do. Please... don't make me regret it." You unfolded yourself a bit, and he sat up, making his way closer to you.

"If there is one thing that I can promise you. ...and Wanda. I will never make you regret putting your faith and trust in me." You gave him a watery smirk, trying to keep your emotions at bay. "So I guess my question is how much do you want to know?" He bit his lip and furrowed his dark brow.

"As much as you are comfortable with telling me." He went to brush a piece of hair back from your face, and by muscle memory, you flinched. "M'sorry..... I won't hurt you, baby girl."

"I know. We came from a place that did though. It's a hard habit to kick." He recognized from seeing all the families come through here.

"About a year ago Wanda got involved with a guy name Brock Rumlow. Real bad fucker ...runs a chapter under a gang called Hyrda. I knew from the get that he was the devils reject and the shit under his shoe. Wanda, however, she sees the good in people and thought she could fix him. I had to get in with the gang to be close to her when he cut her off, and she couldn't get out." You felt the tears run down your cheek as he sat in front of you, crisscrossed legs and holding your hand. Anchoring you in the now so you wouldn't get lost in the fury of your recollections.

"I ran his books with a guy named Eddie or Venom, his right-hand man, well he took a liking to me. I was able to keep him away most of the time but...I had to keep up ...appearances if I wanted to stay with Wanda." Your eyes went dull, and Bucks' fists went white with rage. "Shhh. It's alright."

"I was able to break us out after a particularly bad night. Wanda was..fuck. I found her beaten in a corner. I grabbed as much as I could and carried her to the car. I had a nurse friend, Claire, check her out and then we fled. I haven't looked back." The tears flowed freely now.

"Crossbones, I mean Brock and Eddie are going to come for us. I know they are. I am fucking terrified, Bucky. I don't know if I can protect her next time. All I know to do is run...I can’t let her see me like this. "

He wiped the tears off of your face and pulled you into his lap, you were pliant to his touch. "Stay don't run. We will protect both of you. I will protect you."

You buried your face into the crook of his neck, seeking the safety in his scent and warmth. "I'm not worried for me, damnit! I'm scared for Wanda!" You went to pull away, but he kept you close and looked at your face.

"Well, I'm worried about you, woman! Let someone care for you. The club and I will keep both of you. Just don't you dare fuckin' run. You got me, doll?" He held your face and between his herculean hands before returning them to your back as you slowly nodded while staring into his deep blue eyes.

The conviction on his face felt as though he was burning your soul, the blue of his eyes was branding you.

"I'll stay."

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goforwardgreenwriter-blog · 6 years

Text

The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 32 - 33

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Aedion had been up half the night, debating the merits of every possible place to meet his father.

I am such a sucker for good parent/child relationships in fiction (extra bonus points if it’s adopted parents/child relationship) but honestly Assdion needs to stay the fuck away.

Beforehand Assdion put Lysandra to bet after she shifted back from some other form.

[Aedion] flipped back the crisp cotton sheets with one hand and then laid [Lysandra] down, her once-again long hair covering her high, firm breasts. So much smaller than the ones he’d first seen her with. He didn’t care what size they were—they were beautiful in both forms.

Uhhh does SJM not get how creepy this sounds? Lysandra is asleep and Aedion is staring at her boobs thinking about how beautiful they are?? God damnit SJM just stick to erotica if your characters are gonna be horny 24/7.

Lysandra made [Aedion] change out of his dirty travel clothes, barged into Aelin and Rowan’s room wearing no more than her own bedsheet, and took whatever she wanted from the Fae Prince’s armoire. Aelin’s barked Get out! was likely heard from across the bay, and Lysandra was smirking with feline wickedness as she returned, chucking the green jacket and pants at him.

This sounds like the beginning of a college fic where all the characters live in the same dorm. Not a fucking epic fantasy series constantly compared to LOTR. Tolkien must be rolling in his grave.

Dorian stirred, a cool breeze fluttering in as if his magic awoke as well, squinted at them both, then at the clock atop the mantel.

WHAT. Is this a medieval settings or not? The characters all use swords and bow and arrows and there’s hints of medieval Britain monarchies everywhere but the characters have clocks? What is this word building?

Gods, the females in his court ate more than [Aedion] did.

This is prompted after Lysandra eats breakfast. After we have already been told she burns a lot of energy with her shape shifting. Go fuck yourself, Assdion.

Aedion opened the door, finding the cadre precisely where he’d guessed they’d be at this hour: eating breakfast in the taproom. The two males halted as they entered. And Aedion’s eyes went right to the golden-haired man—one of two, but … there was no denying which one was … his.

I am actually so stressed. Either A) Aedion is gonna act like a dick to his poor father and be treated as right for it, or B) SJM is gonna turn Gav into a dick just so Aedion can angst over his daddy issues. Place your bets, folks.

“You look … ,” Gavriel breathed, sinking into his chair. “You look so much like her [Aedion’s mom].”

HHHHH SJM STOP I HATE THIS SHITTY BOOK AND ASSDION I DON’T WANT THESE FEELS....

“They could have cured [mama Aedion] in the Fae compounds, but she wouldn’t go near them, wouldn’t let them come for fear of Maeve”—[Aedion] spat the name—“knowing I existed. For fear I’d be enslaved to her as you were.”

I wish Assdion’s mom could’ve been a character, but nope, gotta kill off potentially awesome characters for the sake of main character pain. I know that’s just a thing that happens in 95% of stories at this point, but SJM literally only brings these dead characters up once or twice and it has no other impact on her main characters or the plot.

“I’m sorry,” his father said, those Lion’s eyes full of such grief Aedion wondered if he’d just struck a male already down. “I’m not the one you need to apologize to,” he said, turning toward the door.

Am I a dumb dumb, or... who the fuck is Assdion talking about? Is he talking about apologizing to.. Assdion’s mom? I’m so confused.

Assdion stomps out after his little tantrum. I mean, I understand why he’s upset, but... I need context? Was Gav forced to take the blood oath to Maeve, or was it his own choice? ‘Cause if it was the latter yeah he’s kinda a shitty dad, but if it’s the former, it’s not his fault??? This series is batshit confusing.

“We need them to work with us. I might have made an enemy of him.” [Lysandra] tucked her hair over a shoulder. “Trust me, Aedion, you have not. If you’d told him to crawl over hot coals, he would have.”

HHHH FUCK IT GAV IS A GOOD DAD..... I just feel so so sorry for him. He’s just a punching bag for everyone else. Protect Gav 2k18

He laughed, surprised he could even do so. “He’s a handsome bastard, I’ll give him that.” “I think Maeve likes to collect pretty men.” Aedion snorted. “Why not? She has to deal with them for eternity. They might as well be pleasant to look at.”

I mean a lot of those men have confirmed that they were forced to take the blood oath and are now basically slaves to her but sure, tee hee oh Maeve that slutty bitch, collecting only the hottest young men to enslave! Fuckin’ end me.

Bearing both Goldryn and Damaris for once, Aelin walked into the Sea Dragon two hours later and wished for the days when she could sleep without the dread or urgency of something pulling at her.

Greaaat, back to Alien’s POV.

A grand total of five minutes before Lysandra barged in, Rowan had awoken—and begun the process of awakening her, too. Slowly, with taunting, proprietary strokes down her bare torso, her thighs, accented with little biting kisses to her mouth, her ear, her neck.

EWWWWWWW if I wanted to read this shit, I’d go look up fanfiction. Preferably fanfiction with characters I’m endeared to and actually ship. Skip!

Gavriel and Fenrys were now sitting with Rolfe at the table in the back of the taproom, no sign of Aedion, both a bit wide-eyed as she swaggered in.

This is a nit pick but Gav/Fenrys always being described together irks me. They have the literal same reaction to everything. Like, are they doing this all in unison? Actually, that’s a pretty funny mental image.

Rowan took up a spot beside [Aelin] his knee brushing hers. Like even a few feet of distance was unbearable.

GDI. It’s a meeting. With a Pirate Lord. And all Rowboat can think about is getting his dick wet inside of Alien. I’m almost ready to tap out.

“What is this,” [Aelin] said, stabbing a finger near the main line of figures stretched across the middle of the continent. “It’s the latest report,” Rolfe drawled, “of the locations of Morath’s armies. They have moved into position. Aid to the North is now impossible. And they stand poised to strike Eyllwe.”

Ooo, action scene? Please action scene, I cannot handle any more scenes of these assholes being horny around one another.

Next chapter!

“Eyllwe has no standing army,” Aelin said, feeling the blood drain from her face. “There is nothing and no one to fight after this spring—save for rebel militia bands.”

Starts right where the last one left off, as per SJM’s protocol

Rowan said to Rolfe, “Do you have exact numbers?” “No,” the captain said. “The news was given only as a warning—to keep any shipments away from the Avery. I wanted their opinions”—a nod of the chin toward the cadre—“for handling it.“

??? Is it me or is this expression really fucking weird? Was “a nod of the head” not good enough?

“Why attack Eyllwe, though?” Fenrys asked. “And why move into position but not sack it?” [Aelin] couldn’t say the words aloud. That she’d brought this upon Eyllwe by mocking Erawan, because he knew who Celaena Sardothien had cared for, and he wanted to break her spirit, her heart, by showing her what his armies could do. What they would do, whenever he now felt like it. Not to Terrasen … but to the kingdom of the friend she’d loved so dearly.

Once again, we’re about to witness the destruction of a kingdom and all Alien cares about is her stupid feelings. Go fuck yourself Alien.

“You are the heir of the Mycenian people,” Aelin said. “And I have come to claim the debt you owe my bloodline on that account, too.” Rolfe did not move, did not blink. “Or were all the sea dragon references from some personal fetish?” Aelin asked.

SJM JUST USED THE WORD “FETISH” IN HER EPIC FANTASY SERIES. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

[Aelin] allowed a flicker of her magic to rise to the surface then, allowed the gold in her eyes to glow like bright flame. Gavriel and Fenrys straightened as her power filled the room, filled the city. The Wyrdkey between her breasts began thrumming, whispering.

I’m sorry, lovely readers, I keep ragging on about this, but holy fuck. I hate it so much. SJM wants this scene to be all epic and show what a special snowflake badass Alien is but then she undercuts all that supposed tension by drawing focus to her boobs I just. ajhdafdfagfds dj hdsa im b rea kin g

Alien lets loose some of her power that literally shakes the world and rings bells or some shit? idk i guess its 2deep4me

“What the rutting hell was that?” Rolfe at last demanded. Fenrys and Gavriel became very interested in the map before them. Rowan said smoothly, “Milady has to release bits of her power daily or it can consume her.”

ROWBOAT CONFIRMED FOR NICE GUY HOLY SHIT

Aedion and Lysandra arrived after some time—and her cousin only spared Gavriel a passing glance as he stood over the map and fell into that general’s mindset, demanding details large and minute. But Gavriel silently stared up at his son, watching her cousin’s eyes dart over the map, listening to the sound of his voice as if it were a song he was trying to memorize.

Gav deserves a better series than this. I want to take him, Manon, Darrow, and Rolfe away so they can be at peace. How does Darrow/Gavriel sound to everyone? Pure old dads who rule their kingdom fairly, bringing peace and prosperity forward. What a lovely image.

SJM described the meeting rather than shows. It’s basically 90% everyone gushing over how powerful Alien is. Skip!

“You once said I would pay for my arrogance. And I did. Many times. But Sam and I took on your entire city and fleet and destroyed it. All for two hundred lives you deemed less than human. So perhaps I’ve been underestimating myself. Perhaps I do not need you after all.” [Aelin] turned again, and Rolfe sneered, “Did Sam die still pining after you, or did you finally stop treating him like filth?”

Dick move, maybe, but I mean... he’s not wrong. The Assassin’s Blade is literally just Alien being pissy towards Sam for no reason and then he gets angry when their master beats lAlien’s face in (you know, what any normal functioning human being would react like) and she’s suddenly frothing at the mouth to fuck him. Maybe I should review TAB next.........

Rowboat chokes Rolfe and throws him down, and everyone smirks. How are these characters adults? They’re all written like immature teenagers. Anyways, a bell rings out, signifying something bad.

Aelin watched as black - darker than the ink that had been etched there - spread across [Rolfe’s] fingers, to his palms. Black such as only the Valg could bring.

Please action scene I can’t handle one more “witty’ “banter” conversation between these assholes

The door banged open, and Rolfe’s towering figure filled it. “You.” Aelin put a hand on her chest. “Me?”

Pfft. I hated that I snickered at this, but I always laugh at the “dramatic hand on chest” joke.

“And what of your idealism—what of that child who stole two hundred slaves from me? You’d leave the people of this island to perish?” “Yes,” she said simply. “I told you, Rolfe, that Endovier taught me some things.” Rolfe swore. “Do you think Sam would stand for this?” “Sam is dead,” she said, “because men like you and Arobynn have power. But Arobynn’s reign is now over.” She smiled at the darkening horizon. “Seems like yours might end rather soon as well.”

Sam deserves better than this. He was an okay guy to my memory - not a poisonous fuck boy like Rowboat.

“Eight warships teeming with soldiers —at least a hundred on each, more on the lower levels I couldn’t see. They’re flanked by two sea-wyverns. All moving so fast that it’s like storm winds carry them.”

FUCK YEAAAH SEA DRAGONS LETS GO

Rolfe finally breaks down and agrees to join Alien’s war effort. Love it when one of the few good characters is kicked and beaten down to prop up the despicable protagonist. Then we swap to Dorian’s POV.

Aelin was insane, Dorian realized. Brilliant and wicked, but insane. And perhaps the greatest, most unremorseful liar he’d ever encountered.

Dorian, honey, you okay? Blink twice if Alien is holding you captive.

This war would not be won on smiles and manners. It would be won by a woman willing to gamble with an entire island full of people to get what she needed to save them all.

Yeah, doesn’t that make Alien likeable! I know war involves sacrifice and death but Jesus, could she feel even a little remorse? Innocent people may die today but Aelin’s head is so far up her own ass she doesn’t even care.

Fenrys kept at a distance from the others, but Gavriel remained close, his gaze still fixed on his son. Gods, they looked so much alike, moved alike, the Lion and the Wolf.

Stop ittttt Gavriel deserves better.....

Aelin tells Dorian to stay behind and the chapter ends. God, that was a lot of bullshit in two chapters.

#the worm talks #the worm reads: eos #anti sjm #anti tog #anti eos

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exhoe-imagines · 6 years

Text

Don’t || 5

Previous Parts: [Prolouge] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Reader, Werewolf!Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, mentions of blood, violence, mentions of death

Word Count: 2025

Author: Admin Jewels

Notes: Hey everyone! So sorry that this took a million years to write - I’ve been really caught up in school this last semester. But now that it is winter break, I will try to get some new chapters ready for you guys! I hope you enjoy the chapter xx

‘The Chairman’s Waltz’ by John Williams

Yoongi’s POV

“It’s her Namjoon. It’s Y/N,” Yoongi stresses to Namjoon, slamming his fists on the desk in front of him.

Namjoon maintains an unreadable expression, calmly watching Yoongi from behind the desk.

“That’s impossible Yoongi. Y/N died over 100 years ago,” Namjoon replies solemnly.

“Please, you just have to see her…” Yoongi pleads, “She’s in the room next over.”

“I’m sure your mind is just playing tricks on you, brother,” Namjoon replies as he exits the room with Yoongi.

“See for yourself,” Yoongi mumbles as he unlocks the room that keeps you imprisoned.

You were sitting on a sofa, facing upward at a large oil painting on the wall. Namjoon circles the room till he is standing just in front of you. Yoongi swears he could see a glimpse of recognition in Namjoon’s face, but it quickly turns back to his usual stoic expression.

“Hello my dear,” he says as he stepped closer to you, putting a hand on your cheek. “I am sorry this has gone on for so long, it will be over for you soon enough.” He smiles and walks back toward Yoongi.

“I hate to break it to you, but it’s not her,” Namjoon mutters just as the door shuts behind them. “Finish the job,” he says before pacing back to his office.

Yoongi’s heart sinks as the order is given to him. He knows Namjoon’s demands are final, completely absolute. No matter how much he trusts Namjoon, he knows you are Y/N. Your face is just as young and bright as the day he last saw you in 1911, the year he had been turned.

Memories of a dark and dreary time rush through Yoongi’s head. The country was being invaded from all sides by an imperial force. Armies pushed city by city, slaughtering and imprisoning any who resisted. Noble families who had ruled in the old regime were hunted down and imprisoned. That included you, Namjoon, and Yoongi’s families who had known each other for decades.

Yoongi could remember how helpless he felt as a mortal, so afraid of death. He was only 21 years old when all your families were locked up. He remembered praying that even if he died, he hoped you would make it out alive.

One night, a new unit of guards entered the prison. They were much quieter than the previous, and much more distinct looking. Little did Yoongi know at the time, they were a clan of vampires.

Yoongi could remember the screams that rang through the prison as the vampire soldiers attacked prisoners down the hall. There were so many screams. He could remember banging on his cell door, trying to get out, trying to do something. The screams ended shortly after and he knew they were dead.

As footsteps approached his cell, he readied himself to attack. He would fight with every ounce of his soul before he would give into these murderers. But when the cell door opened, a sickly-sweet smell floated into the room, immediately calming Yoongi’s senses. A soldier entered slowly, making his way right up to Yoongi.

“Come, brother, it is your time,” he whispered with a foreign accent.

Yoongi lost all will to resist, it was as if his mind and body were not his own. He followed the ghostly soldier out of the cell and down the hall. As he passed other open cells, he saw dead bodies laid on the cold ground. When he saw your pale body laying lifeless in the hallway, he could feel his soul crumble. You were laid next to your mother as if you had been struggling to hold onto her in your final moments. There were two clean bite marks on your neck, bite marks that Yoongi would come to know very well in the following years. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted to claw his eyes out, but the trance that was over him did not allow him to do any of those things. It forced him to keep moving, to step over your corpse and never look back.

That night, Yoongi and many other young men were herded into a large room of the prison together. Yoongi’s old friend Namjoon was among them. It was eerily silent, as all the men were in the same trance. The soldiers encircled them until they were given the order to attack. Yoongi remembered watching the men collapse to the ground as the vampires feasted upon their necks. Some of them couldn’t control their thirst and ended up killing them. Others were swift with their bites, but they still strained to pull away from their victims before they let the frenzy consume them. The ones that could resist the thirst were quick with the process, immediately slashing their wrist and letting their blood drop into the mouths of the newborns.

Yoongi could barely remember how he was turned, he blacked out so many times. He was grateful for this, as he had heard many stories of how torturous the process was. Days later, he and the other men awoke, but they quickly realized they were no longer the same. Their bodies ached and their minds lusted for blood. Fresh, hot blood.

The soldiers that turned them guided them for several years, until Yoongi, Namjoon, and several others finally broke free of the clan. Over time, Namjoon and Yoongi created their own clan, always remaining under the radar. They eventually built an empire of their own, an empire that controlled the entire black market of the southeast of the country. They operated everything from casinos, whorehouses, to smuggling drugs, weapons, and human trafficking. It made it very easy for them to prey upon humans. The people who dealt with their businesses were not the kind of people that anyone would go looking for.

Everything went well for the first few decades until the werewolves arrived on the scene. They were a form of protection for the local village people. Some say they dealt with a kind of black magic that allowed them to transform. Others say they mutated as a way to keep their species alive. Whatever the reason, they became a nuisance in recent years to the clan. Many of the foot soldiers wanted to wipe them out, but Namjoon always made them stay under the radar, killing small numbers at a time.

That was, until the recent offensive in the city. The mutts attacked just before dawn, drawing out the vampires and trapping them outdoors as the sun began to rise. There were close to a hundred vampire foot soldiers destroyed. After all, the sun almost completely weakened their powers.

Some of the remaining foot soldiers were able to capture and kill the alpha of the pack, Taecyeon. Seokjin was next in line to become alpha, which was why the clan decided you would be the perfect target. Namjoon wanted payback for all that the werewolves had cost him.

Yoongi was completely ready to go through with the plan and display your corpse for all their enemies to see. That was until he saw your face. There was no denying who you were. Yoongi could never forget the face of his first love, no matter how many years passed. Just the thought of you made Yoongi feel human again, pure and alive. But he knew it was all a delusion, for he could never truly be human or pure again. Yoongi lived a life of evil since he turned, and he knew he could never go back.

‘Home’ by Daughter

You were sitting in that same room for almost an hour after that strange man had come in to see you.

“It will be over for you soon enough,” he had said with a grin on his face.

You can’t help but think the worst about what could happen to you next. Your body begins to shake as you look around the room. There must be some way out of here…

Your thoughts are interrupted when the man from your dream enters the room. His steps are quick as he tears two cloths from his pocket, one to blindfold your eyes and one to muffle your mouth. He avoids your face as he ties them on, keeping his expression plain. He continues and puts restraints around your wrists, tying them behind your back.

‘This is it, this is how it all ends,’ you think to yourself as he grabs your arm, pulling you up to follow him out the door. His grasp is tight and cold, causing you to shudder away from him.

“Move and I will cut your throat right here,” he spits at you, suddenly very close to your face.

Your blood runs cold, and you instantly feel tears welling up in your eyes. You nod your head before following him as he ordered.

He opens a door, and by the sudden breeze, you can tell you have stepped outside.

“This way,” he mutters before pulling you to the left and opening a car door. He lifts your body and throws you in as if you were light as a feather. Your back hits the carpeting of the backseat floor and you gasp out in pain. The restraint around your wrist is digging into the flesh, stinging all the way up your arms.

You hear the driver’s door open as he gets in and immediately starts the car. He didn’t drive 2 seconds before he comes to a stop.

“Hey boss, where are you headed?” a voice outside the car says into the driver’s window, “do you want any help?”

“No, I can take care of this myself. I’ll be heading back into town. I’ll call you guys if I need anything,” your kidnapper replies before sliding the window back up and speeding off the property.

The drive continues eerily silent. Not one sigh or breath leaves his mouth. You are too afraid to move, even with how painful it is to lay with your arms behind you.

Eventually, he parks the car and pulls you out to stand you on the ground. By the smell of the air, you can tell you are in a parking structure, probably downtown.

His hands travel to your face and he unties the fabric around your mouth and eyes. The first thing you see is his eyes gazing into yours, with a softness in them that you have not yet witnessed. But they quickly snap back to his usual predatory gaze, and he is once again your kidnapper.

“Do not try anything funny. I will have you dead before you can even scream ‘help’” he warns you, before taking your hand and pulling you to follow him.

He takes you through several doors before you enter a grand lobby. You realize it is an apartment building as he directs you to a large glass elevator. The elevator door is about to shut when a dark-haired young man appears and pushes it back open so he can enter.

“Jungkook, is that you?” you think as your heart skips a beat.

The man turns to face you, and you can feel your kidnapper’s grip tighten around your wrist.

Your heart sinks as the man looks at you and you realize it is not Jungkook. You wonder what the chances are of them finding you and saving you from these gangsters.

The elevator dings as it arrives on the 8th floor and you watch as the man steps out. The doors shut as you glance toward the elevator buttons. Your kidnapper’s destination was the top floor, number 31. It even has a special key to guard it.

“I own the entire top floor. So no one will be able to hear your cries,” he whispers, just barely loud enough for you to hear him. It was like he knew exactly what was crossing your mind.

Your anxiety rises with each level you pass, as you know you are getting further and further from any hope of escape.

You are nearly frozen in place when the elevator dings to signal your arrival. You know your doom awaits just beyond those doors.

#min yoongi #jeon jungkook #bts #bts werewolf au #bts vampire au #min yoongi x reader #vampire yoongi #jeon jungkook x reader #werewolf jungkook #bts mafia au #vampire min yoongi #werewolf jeon jungkook #vampire min yoongi x reader #werewolf jeon jungkook x reader #vampire yoongi x reader #werewolf jungkook x reader

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insomniasix · 7 years

Text

Tragedia Coram Amandum Quae |Part II|

A/N: Mostly explanation part. Working on the rest now. *whisper* It gets more complicated |names and such|

Words: 2676

OCs: Six Ulric, Elderon Lights, Morticia Blackwell, Sha’van Blacke (If you don’t want me using anyone please let me know! )

Warning: Swearing, Violence, Complicated situations (If I’ve missed anything please hit me up, I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable!)

Part I

So, you’re still here huh? Good. I’m starting to like having you around.

Alright, so, last time I told you a lot of things about myself and thinking back on it, it seems kinna selfish. You don’t leave in my head. You probably don’t know what’s going on, or half the shit I talked about. So how about I explain a few things before getting to the good stuff? Yeah, things are getting even more complicated by the minute here, so let me try and clear some of it up.

Where do I begin?

How about Noctis?

Yeah, Noctis sounds good.

There’s a legend going around for eons. It tells the story of The One True King. The one who vanished all Darkness from the face of Eos, defeating the Accursed and his mighty army of daemons.

His name was Noctis! And for his actions and sacrifice, the Six Gods of Old named him “Protector of the Light”.

Time moved on and the people –me included, forgot, or didn’t care about the Old Astrals.

“They disappeared” Morticia Blackwell, the High Priestess, said “leaving only the Holy Protector to look over Eos.”

Years have passed and Noctis is the only remaining Astral. The Protector of Light!

Don’t know if I believe the fairytales about his accent in Astralhood but I know one thing: If there’s someone worth believing in, it’s him! I’ve read the stories, about the ten years of Darkness and Daemons; and to be honest, I’d be scared shitless living in a time like that.

I don’t have to though, thanks to Him; thanks to the things he went through and sacrificed.

If you ask me, the “Evil” he fought, this “Accursed”, he was just another pawn of the Six, too. Just like Noctis himself. It doesn’t really matter though. Gods and Daemons have nothing on real, living, fire-breathing dragons!

Second theme of explanation.

If there aren’t any daemons, what do the people fight?

What do we hunt and kill except from each other?

In the beginning, people were content. They and their children and grandchildren wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore. Especially since the sun stood tall in the sky again. But a few years later, the world became trigger-happy! Killing, stealing, eating each other alive –sometimes that last part was literal, too.

Things got real crappy real fast and the world was neck deep in chaos again!

That’s when the Three Kingdoms rose up.

Lucis, standing proud on the Northeast of the map. Home of yours truly. Ruled by the Lucis Caelum bloodline.

Accordo, on the South. Accordo and its people are pretty chill when it comes to… well, pretty much everything. I mean, they’re probably thinking something like “We’re surrounded by water, what could possibly go wrong?”. They haven’t been wrong up until now. The Accordo bloodline seems to keep their nose out of everyone’s business, action that has kept them going all these years.

Lastly, the troublemakers, if I’d ever seen a bunch. The Niflheim Empire. Led by the “Man of No Consequence”, the “Time traveler” and probably a hundred other self-proclaimed titles, Ardyn Izunia Fleuret and his precious witch of a daughter, Lunafreya; the one who enchanted my idiot father and sent me to jail.

The Kingdoms have been at war for as long as I can remember, the only neutral party being the High Priestess no-one dared to fuck with –I’ll get to explaining her story at some point.

About a year ago, the emperor of Niflheim, Ardyn and his daughter Lunafreya, came to Lucis with talks and ideas about how the two powers should unite. It was a bullshit story the King should have foreseen would end badly.

The emperor and his daughter stayed inside the Citadel’s walls for three days. Luna didn’t need more to put some unlucky bastard under her spell. That unlucky bastard being my father, the great Nyx Ulric! The gemstone of the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive all together.

You know, no matter what I call him now, he used to be a good man, a great soldier and an even better father! He was the only family I had.

He was a fool, though.

So, when Luna swayed her magnificent piece of ass in front of him, he followed like an obedient puppy.

God, I hope it was just that. I hope he followed her to Hell because of her magic; it’s the only way the King –the only way I would ever forgive him.

He led both Luna and her father to the Archives when everyone else was occupied with something. Being the captain helped greatly; he knew every schedule of every soldier in the Kingdom.

Try lying to that man when you get home late. Not fun!

Anyway, the enemy royal family grabbed the Kingdom’s most valuable secrets –and my dad, and hauled ass!

Few days later, the Council of Royal Asses instructed King Regis to send me in jail, to pay for the crimes of my family, saying it’s the only right thing to do. Show the world that no crime goes unpunished, no matter your place in the food chain.

I spent a year in jail, a year of everyone –except maybe a handful of people, blaming and shaming my family’s name. The name we worked so hard to build. A year in jail for a crime I didn’t even commit.

I’m not here to vent, though. So, where was I? Oh, right. Explaining. Let’s see.

Enemies of men.

The Astral, Noctis, took care of the daemons, so they’re out of the list, thankfully. There are more beasts running around now. From spiders –reaching the size of an average sheep, to Behemoths and Dragons; the beasts’ sizes vary, with the largest being High Dragons and the last remaining Zu –all reaching unmeasurable sizes when fully grown.

Between you and me though, when it comes to danger, it’s not entirely about the beast’s size as much as it is the brains. I find humans being the worst of all! A beast will attack when threatened, for its survival; humans, on the other hand, have proved to slay each other for their own liking, for fun!

No, I’m not talking about Niflheim! I’m talking about the Glauca band of thieves and murderers!

They top even the Emperor of Niflheim in both creativity and brutality. Ravaging entire villages and cities, no matter what time of day. Torturing and killing men, women and children alike.

I met a guy once, some five years back. We had both been captured by Titus Drautos, the band’s leader. I was sent to assassinate him –my first and only fail, while my soon to be friend, was out for revenge.

The band had been terrorizing his village for years, so he decided to pick up his sword and title as a renowned hunter again.

Elderon Lights of Galahd!

The man was a beast; but even he wasn’t enough to take Glauca down.

The band had attacked Galahd while Elderon was on a Griffon hunt. He came back to witness his home buried in flames and blood!

Elderon run inside, calling out, screaming for his wife to answer him. For a sign that she was alright, but his wife… Hope, never answered back.

His heart stopped as he reached the backyard.

Hope was laying on the ground, her marked torso pressing against the blooded dirt, all sign of life had left her mistreated body.

Elderon sank into his knees, his trembling, calloused fingers grabbed hold of his beloved’s soulless body, moving her closer to him as he cried, making promises of revenge and justice against the Astrals and the murderers.

Blinded by his own hatred and rage, he didn’t notice I was moving to in too, from the opposite direction. As a result we fell right on top of each other. We argued as to who had more right to be there, to take care of things –not revealing our true intentions, stories or identities. We caught one of the thieves’ ear and they were on us in no time.

After about three weeks, Elderon and I managed to get away from Drautos, thankfully before he or his lackeys got their hands on me.

Elderon got most of it! Defying their orders and defending my honor and dignity.

He didn’t even know me, yet I got away with only a few new scars while his own back was barely recognizable.

“Not all men are evil, yet the line between the two notions is getting thinner every day. I know. I’ve seen people there –I’ve been there. Struggling to figure out what’s right and what’s wrong. It’s now always clear as day. There are consequences, for your choices and the choices made for you. Those consequences and the way you deal with them, are what defines where you stand.” That quote he told me has stayed with me ever since. Drawing a visible line in my mind and placing people in their right side; I have to admit, I think I’m running out of space on the ‘Evil’ side.

Speaking of the line between good and evil, this is where the explanation for the High Priestess comes in. It’s the last one, too. Promise.

Morticia Blackwell. A mighty enchantress. Morta was given the power to ‘Speak’ with the Astrals when she was only a child. As a result she was the youngest Priestess to join the Chantry. Morta made her way up the hierarchy pretty fast as she was named High Priestess at only 27 years of age. All these years later –she’s like twice that age now, she’s still one of the most powerful people on Eos, if not THE most powerful.

Morticia is the line itself.

The Chantry can’t take place in politics or wars. It’s out for all the people Noctis scarified for. As a result, it��s the highest power there is. Both Lucis and Niflheim desire its power, but Morta quite simple told them to ‘Suck it’. She said she’d rather be trapped in the Beyond than decide who to aid in all those meaningless wars the nations waged at each other.

I have to admit, for a gal her age, she has balls; and the sass is strong with that woman. I adore her –when she’s on our side.

The High Priestess is a unique caster of both Light and Dark magic, although she prefers to use her healing techniques as well as the elements. She has great respect for all living things, even if sometimes she doesn’t agree with the choices made by them. For example, when the Niflheim Emperor decided to abduct her, so she would be seen in Niflheim instead of Lucis, Morticia showed them who’s boss. She took down all the soldiers and assassins the Emperor had sent and appeared on his bedside when he slept soundly. Her dark figure rose above him like a nightmarish shadow, everything, from her hair to her eyes to her dress was pitch black. She cast a spell on the Emperor and his followers, trapping them in each one’s nightmare for two days. Two days of sleeping in their beds soundly while their brains were destroying their spirits. A small price to pay, she said. Needless to say Niflheim never whined about her staying in Lucis, ever again.

Thinking on that story, the way she ‘punished’ them, the way she appeared on the Emperor; just the thought of it sends shivers down my spine. You see, the Morta I know is always cheerful, helpful to the ones in need; helpful to the ones who don’t want to be helped. In that story, the High Priestess appears nothing like the one of Lucis.

When she’s here; when she’s home, she’s the exact opposite. She’s always dressed in white, matching her long silky white hair and her bright smile that reaches up to her rosy cheeks, creating faint wrinkles around her misty hazel blue eyes.

I always wondered if she was the reason Lucis is considered a Good Kingdom. Morticia being the line –the border between the two notions and nations. But I guess I’m over thinking stuff again.

What do you think?

Hah, look at me. Actually talking to you. I must be going insane.

Well, like promised, I have no more explanations as to what has been going on around Eos. So I guess I’ll start telling you what’s going on now.

They got me out of my prison cell, only to put me in another. This one doesn’t have bars and gray walls. This is the Council room. A large chamber, filled only by a round table and a bunch of chairs right in the middle of it. There are statues of Iron Giants on the walls near the entrance; well, I think that’s what they are. I’ve read about them in the Archives. Noctis really fought those things?

The King had sent for me. They gave me plenty of time to take a shower and get into some new clothes, other than the dirty white scrubs they had me wearing for a year. It sure feels nice having a pair of new clothes around my body again. They also gave me my phone and wedding ring back –guess that means I won’t be going back. Wonder what they have in store for me.

I’m sitting on one of the chairs, waiting for someone to appear. I’ve gone through all my missed messages –all from Ignis. The man knows how to make a woman blush. He knew I wasn’t going to answer but he still sent a “Good Morning” or a “Good night” every day. My eyes passed a few “I love you”s too, as well as some “I miss you”s. I did too, my love. Once this charade is over, I’m coming home!

-Iggy, are you there?

Sent him a message? What the hell am I thinking? How is he gonna answer it? How is he gonna see it? Stupid! Stupid! Now he’s just gonna worry if it’s –oh, it’s been delivered. Oh, Noctis. What am I doing?

-My love? Is this really you? By Noctis, Six, what have you done?

He answered? How the –he’s probably with someone. Maybe he’s gone to Morticia for healing.

-They got me out. Gave me new clothes. I’m waiting for a Council meeting as it seems. Are you alright?

My heart is pumping like crazy. I still get nervous every time I text him.

-So that is why. His Majesty sent for me as well. I should be at the Citadel in an hour. Do you think you can stall them enough? I have missed your voice.

Aw, Ignis. There’s chatter coming behind the doors. Guess they’re here.

-I will do what I can. Make it quick, can’t wait to see you again.

The doors open, here comes the Council of Royal Asses! I look up at them, eyebrow raised and they all stare back, jaws clenched as they see my posture. I’ve crossed my legs and placed them on their table, my eyes never leaving my phone as I wait for Ignis to answer.

The King walked in behind them along with the new Princess, Sa’van Blacke. She’s the only one worth respecting of the entire bunch. The King is… is he smiling at me? This is getting weird. Where is Gladio?

Let me sit correctly, my ass is starting to cramp. Sa’van took a seat next to me instead of her rightful place next to the King.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

“I’m fine. What is going on? What have I done this time?” I whisper only for her to listen, my eyes never leaving the creepy smile the King is blessing me with.

“We are in need of your help, Six. So please” did she just place her hand on mine? I mean, I like Sa’van, I respect her, but is the situation that bad? “Please listen to what His Majesty has to say before the witty comments.”

“Alright” this should be interesting.

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Feedback is always appreciated! Thank you for taking the time to stand by me! <3

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9r7g5h · 7 years

Text

Remember All - P3

Fandom: Xena: Warrior Princess

Overall Rating: T+ (Rating subject to change); Chapter Rating: K

Genre: General

Summary: Given another chance, left with her memories of their first time through, Gabrielle knows there’s only one option for her- let Xena live. Whatever she had to do, whatever she had to change to make sure that would happen, Gabrielle was willing to do it.

Words: 2,821

AN: Sorry I’ve been so quiet lately. I moved into my own apartment, and between getting the old one packed and the new one set up, it’s been busy. But I’m all good to go (almost, just need to do a final cleaning) in my new place! :D So I’ll have plenty of time to write and stuff. Sorry this chapter is a bit short- again, I’ve been busy, plus this was just a good stopping point, I felt. I hope you guys enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Xena.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, ???

They saved Ares’ sword; it was harder this time, Xena unable to pretend to pass as Callisto. But she still fought her way onto the ship, convincing the other warlords she was just as ready to take over as the goddess of war as any of them. It was almost impossible for Gabrielle to keep her secret- in the other world she had finally learned how to control her anger, how to push away her fear and focus in on a battle, skills this world's Gabrielle wouldn't have. So she pretended, pretended to get irrationally angry over every little slight, doing her best to keep up the ruse.

Not that it mattered, because Ares knew. Of course he knew; all the gods on Olympus did to some extent, even if none of the mortals realized they were reliving the lives they had already lived once.

"Zeus forced us to swear, on penalty of death, that we wouldn't interfere," Ares muttered that first night, his words half slurred from drink but his eyes clear. "The Fates decreed that you had to have your chance. Don't waste it, blondie, or else she's dead."

He didn't know, exactly, what the other life had been like, a little fact Ares let slip later into the night. None of them did. They just had a vague sense of deja vu, as if they had already made the choices that were to come. And some things remained from that other life, just buried in their subconscious- Ares made an offhanded comment about her sais, and how he couldn't wait for her to start killing again, though confusion clouded his features as he wondered at the words he hadn’t meant to speak. Little things that stuck, here and there, but no big picture to put them into.

Gabrielle was almost glad. Because she had her chance, and with even the gods unable to interfere for fear of making the world that much worse than the last had been? Nothing could stop her.

They saved Ares' sword after managing to trick Sisyphus into letting them compete, and he made no mention of what he had revealed, though his parting gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than it had the last time.

He'd be trouble, there was no question about that. But for now, Gabrielle smiled up at Xena, remembering the way this had all ended last time- with brown eyes returning her grin instead of blue, a promise to love her no matter what she looked like, and a sinking in her stomach as Gabrielle fought for it not to be a lie until the winds shifted and things were once again ok.

But this time there was no lie, no promise to be made, and instead they just walked along the beach in silence, watching as Joxer tried to do some foolish Joxer thing that just made them laugh.

It was calm, for a while. Even with saving Solstice and stopping a war through a beauty pageant (something Gabrielle actually took a moment to enjoy, even if the kiss was enough to start a spark of jealousy in her stomach), things were calm. There were fights, sure, bandits that tried to catch them off guard, tried to collect the bounty on Xena's head, but that was just life. That was amazingly normal for them, a common occurrence that barely rated mention.

They met Hercules and Iolaus, spent a night catching up and trading stories, and that's when they found out- Hera had brought Callisto back, Hercules had trapped her, and she was immortal, forever stuck in her darkness. Hercules tells them the story Callisto told him: Xena's army, the fire, watching her mother and sister scream as they fell to the heat and the smoke, their bodies too charred for any kind of recognition. He says it all without accusation, for what's past is past, but still it brings a darkness to Xena's gaze.

It's a darkness that lightens when the topic shifts, changing to how Iolaus had to convince Aphrodite to let people fall in love again, and for a little bit she believes it's all ok.

Until they arrive at Cirra.

She hadn't been paying attention. She had gotten lost in the comfort of it all, had forgotten to count the days, weeks, months that had passed since she had restarted this life. Not that it mattered, since things were already off- her wounds had taken them off the schedule she remembered, leaving her semi-floundering whenever they reached a different story from the ones she remembered telling. Stories she already had written down, that she just shifted and edited when a new detail arose from her changes, scratching out sections and putting the new truth before copying it all to a new, clean scroll.

But she tried to keep track, tried to sort through her memories and the life she had already lived to figure out where things could change, where she could shift the pattern of events that would give the world its new lease.

And this? This was a big one.

She still let herself get captured- there were innocent people there, women and children and old men, and Gabrielle can live with a lot of things, but their deaths aren’t one of them. So she gets captured, and when Xena shows up to save her, she fights alongside her, driving off warrior after warrior as the villagers flee. And when that giant of a man steps forward, going after the child to distract Xena as his brother in arms climbs the tree, Gabrielle's ready.

Ready to tackle the child, rolling away from the warrior, sending him stumbling as his swing met no resistance. Ready to scramble to safety before he can recover, giving Xena the moment she needed to embed her sword into his side, a painful wound in and of itself. Ready to scream as the rope was cut, sending Xena sprawling to the ground as the giant tree trunk sailed over her, just missing her head, instead finishing the battle with the warrior as he struggled to get upright, trying to find his footing so he could continue a fight he had so clearly lost.

Xena lived. She walked from that battle all but unscratched, a single knick her payment for the battle she had ended. She lived, and all Gabrielle can do is sigh in relief from her living. Because with Xena still alive, there's no need for the ambrosia. There's no need for Autolycus, no need for funeral pyres or for Valesca, no need for Callisto. No need to free Callisto, to turn her into a goddess, to eventually witness her death, and while her heart aches for Eve, Gabrielle pushes those thoughts aside. Xena is her goal, not Eve, and while she would always love the girl, if Callisto had to stay trapped for Xena to live, then so be it.

There might be another way- Ares had a soft spot for Callisto, he might be the "savior" she needed to play to get her godly powers, the powers that would eventually lead to her death and Eve's existence. But for now Gabrielle just whispered a small goodbye to their daughter and turned back to face the future.

Because she has to keep Xena alive this time, and if ensuring Eve never exists is the price she has to pay? It’s a sin she’ll gladly take upon her own soul to ensure she’s successful.

They still go to the Amazons- Ephiny as regent is the best option in any world, especially when the other is Velesca. And even without Xena’s body to drag behind Argo, Gabrielle missed them, longed for their company. She hadn’t spent enough time with the Amazons in their first life, had lost so many friends and sisters to wars she had been absent for, and that had hurt. It had hurt that she had never been able to say goodbye, had never been able to be the queen they had deserved, had disappointed so many of them. While she doubted she could do much, the Amazon’s lives so utterly separate from the adventures she and Xena were soon to face, she was hopeful. Hopeful that she could do some things to change the fates of her friends in some small way to make them better.

Xena disapproved, at first, of the idea of her becoming Queen. It makes her that much more of a target, puts her in that much more danger- her concern almost made Gabrielle laugh. Because in this world Xena's still alive, and she has no idea what Gabrielle had been through, not in that other world. Gabrielle instead soothes her worry, telling her her plan of passing off the crown to Ephiny, allowing the Amazon to rule in her stead. A few days of rest, of relaxing (this time in joy, not in sorrow) while she learned what being Queen entailed, and they would be back on the road.

Xena agreed, though she kept her eyes trained on Velesca the entire time, as if she could feel her discontentment. When Gabrielle took the mask and put it on instead of handing it over, Velesca glances almost hesitantly over at Xena before making her challenge, this time with words instead of her knife.

And when Xena steps forward, prepared for Gabrielle to name her champion and begin the fight, Gabrielle instead says she'll fight her herself, much to the warrior's surprise.

"Are you insane, Gabrielle," Xena demanded in an angry hiss in her hut, watching as Gabrielle prepared herself for the fight. She'd chosen her staff, of course, the only weapon she technically knew how to use in this world, but was wrapping her hands and wrists much like Xena had once showed her. She was prepared for it to come to blows, and she knew where to strike- Velesca favored her left leg ever so slightly, a hint of a scar across her right thigh just where her skirt road up as she walked, and Gabrielle was sure a couple of punches to the area would bring her down. Bring Velesca down, let her get on top of her, and finish it all.

She knows Xena knows all of this, and she knows that Xena doesn't know that she knows. Because these are skills another Xena taught another Gabrielle, things she wouldn't learn for another two, almost three years in their original lives, and so Gabrielle just lets Xena rant.

"Velesca's a trained warrior, she's been in hundreds of battles, and she killed the last Queen. She won't hesitate to kill you too. Gabrielle, you can't fight her." Xena's almost desperate as she rants, as she tries to find some combination of words that will get Gabrielle to back down and claim her as her champion. “You need to-“

"Xena," Gabrielle said, her voice low, a little bit dangerous- enough to cause Xena to pause, even if the voice didn't make her step back like it did most people, both in the last world and the few times she had used it in this. But the almost startled look Xena gives her is enough to make a little part of Gabrielle happy; she’s more capable then Xena thinks, and she's about to show her. "Xena, these are my people. I have to be the one to fight for them.”

Like I'm fighting for you, Gabrielle thinks, but the words never leave her lips. They can't, not yet- maybe someday she can explain to Xena the other world, the second chance she was given, but not yet.

"Even if it means killing for them?" Xena's voice is a little less harsh but harder, almost worst as she stares at Gabrielle. Questioning, demanding, searching her face for the truth.

Gabrielle thinks about Ephiny, killed by the Romans. Thinks about Amarice, killed by the nomads to the north that had harried the Amazons there. Thinks about Helicon, about the women she had led into war on that beach who she had had to leave behind, only coming back later so they could be burned.

These were her people, and she had already killed for them, so many times over.

"I don't want to," Gabrielle said, the truth in her voice. If there was a way to not kill, to disarm and let live in such a way that they wouldn't pose a threat later on, then she would. She wanted to. "But if I must, I will." Again, the truth.

They part on that truth, Gabrielle walking from her tent before Xena can speak, the other woman only following to take her place around the ring. They both knew Xena would never let her die, that her chakram would soar and take Velesca's head before she could deal the killing blow, but between them there was only silence.

If anything was to change- if Xena was to stop seeing her as a child- then Gabrielle had to show her what she could do. At the very least a taste of it, a hint of the power within, to prove that she was more than Xena saw her. It would be a long while before they were equals, but the distance between them wasn’t quite so great as Xena thought. It was something Xena, stuck as she was in the protector roll, needed to realize- that while her help was always welcome, it wasn’t always necessary. Though it was good to have her close by, just in case.

Just in case Gabrielle, misled by her memories, overconfident in her abilities, had misjudged the situation.

But she hadn’t, and Xena’s assistance hadn’t been needed. Just like she had thought, Gabrielle had been able to handle herself, had handled herself against much worse, against many more people much more dangerous and cruel than Velesca, and Gabrielle had her on the ground before she could even think. It'd been easy- Velesca had underestimated her, believed her, as many people did, to be nothing more than the Warrior Princess' bed warmer; a weak, pretty little creature Xena kept around because it amused her. Velesca hadn't seen the glint in Gabrielle's eyes, hadn't noticed just how solid and firm her stance was, and in three moves, Velesca had been brought down.

The tip of Gabrielle's staff at her neck, just threatening to crush her windpipes if she gave her any reason to believe her a threat, Velesca begged for her mercy, and mercy Gabrielle gave. She slunk off, alone and hurt, to tend to her own wounds, and the Amazons had praised their new Queen.

They stayed for a few days, just because. They were in no rush, no hurry, and it was nice, being somewhere safe. Even with all her grumbling about being tied down longer than necessary, Xena enjoyed the break as well- she was popular with the kids, and could always be found with at least five or six little girls following her at any given moment, a fact that had her smiling whenever someone pointed out her little shadows. Little shadows she clearly showed off for, taking every opportunity to flip or throw her chakram, resulting in an excited babble of little voices. And it wasn't for too long, just long enough for Gabrielle to get everything in order for Ephiny to rule, things they had just kind of skimmed over the first time that, this time, Gabrielle took much more seriously.

It was just for a few days. But those few days had been enough.

They shared a hut, of course- even after her nightmares from the first time she had almost died faded, Xena had continued to spread out their sleeping furs right next to each other, glancing over every few times to make sure it was ok, to see if Gabrielle would protest. She never did, and they more often than not woke up curled around each other, warm and comfortable in each other's arms. Her injury from Callisto had made those nightmares resurface, and now there was no pretense; Gabrielle fell asleep in Xena's arms and woke up in them on the rare occasion when Xena stayed in bed, holding her close and reminding herself that Gabrielle was safe and alive. So they shared a hut, shared a large bed, and left their bags lying around wherever they had dropped them.

Bags that, one day, Xena had been going through to try and find one thing or another. Bags that had included Gabrielle's scrolls, all of the scrolls she had written over the months before Xena had even arrived, cataloging everything she could remember of their adventures and the scrolls she had rewritten while they had traveled together. Scrolls it had taken Xena five years to read that first life, scrolls Gabrielle had thought were safe.

Scrolls Xena, during that lazy afternoon, her initial search forgotten, began to read.

#Xena #XWP #Xena: Warrior Princess #XWP fanfic #xwp fanfiction #Xena fanfic #Xena fanfiction #Xena: Warrior Princess fanfic #Xena: Warrior Princess fanfiction #Remember All

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preservationandruin · 7 years

Text

Words of Radiance Part Five Part One

We’re in the home stretch! Let’s do this thing!

Dalinar sets off on his expedition, Amaram gets FUCKING OWNED, I proceed to go off on a fucking rant because Amaram talked about honor one time too many, Shallan outs herself and Jasnah as Radiants, Rlain comes back, Elhokar’s Incompetence Rant pt.1, the Parshendi start singing a very ominous song, I’m gay for Radiants ,and Kaladin has a revelation.

This part is titled Winds Alight and we have the points of view of basically everyone--Kaladin, Shallan, Dalinar, Adolin, and Wit. Let’s get this show on the road, gang!

Our epigraphs here are from the Diagram, which is interesting.

Kaladin is beating himself up for killing Syl, which, good. He deserves that. He also is getting toward the Weeping, which is awful for him--it’s when his Seasonal Affective Disorder kicks in hardcore. He gets Lopen and they go to watch the army leave. Lopen suggests that to get Syl back he buy her something nice, which is just so...Lopen. I love him.

Kaladin also realizes Dalinar’s force is what he always dreamed of following into battle. It’s the army he fantasized about as a child. And Sebarial, of all people, has joined Dalinar into the fight.

Hell. Yes.

And ooooooh loooook, Amaram is coming in his fancy gold knight radiant cloak with his fancy shardblade and fancy armor and yes I am still and will always be bitter as fuck about Amaram in general. Amaram is like oooOOOOOOooooo we should SEND SEBARIAL AWAY he’s UNTRUSTWORTHY and wow pot, kettle, black??

And of course, Aladar comes too. Meanwhile, Ialai points out that she and Sadeas could have a coup. Sadeas literally would--he would kill Elhokar just for fucking power. He just doesn’t think he has to.

God, he’s a waste of investiture.

Also, Ialai is the one who had an assassin with the bridges--it’s her fault that Kaladin and Shallan pitched into the chasm. Which let Shallan figure out where the Oathgate was.

NICE GOING IALAI.

Anyway, Aladar was one of Sadeas’ biggest supporters. And he finally can’t convince himself to support Sadeas when Dalinar is out there doing the right thing. Aladar and Dalinar even have a moment where Aladar is like listen, you know I’m not some shining knight, I have blood on your hands, and Dalinar’s like, well, I’m not either, but we’re what we’ve got.

Amaram is like ooOOOOoooOOOO it would be SO COOL if we could WIN THIS ALL ON OUR OWN we shoudn’t WORK TOGETHER DAL and Dalinar’s like, that’s bullshit. And then he sees Kaladin and asks Amaram to come with him.

God, the first time I read this I was entirely made out of anxiety.

Anyway, Kaladin is seeing the men off, and they’re yelling at him for walking around on a badly injured leg.

“I thought,” Kaladin noted, “That I was your commander.” “Nah, can’t be,” Teft said, “because our commander would be smart enough to stay in bed.” “And eat much stew,” Rock said. “I left you stew to eat while I am gone.”

I LOVE BRIDGE FOUR

Also they see Dalinar coming and Rock is like wow now you’re definitely screwed. Also I would like to note that all of bridge four doesn’t trust Amaram.

Also, Moash was left to guard the King, and Kaladin nearly dies upon realizing that. And then we get the exchange that causes my soul to ascend from this mortal plain.

“Amaram,” Dalinar said, waving for the highlord to step up. “You told me that you’d never seen this man before arriving here on the Shattered Plains. Is that true?” Kaladin met the eyes of a murderer. “Yes,” Amaram said. “What of his claim that you took his Blade and Plate from him?” Dalinar asked. “Brightlord,” Amaram said, taking Dalinar by the arm, “[insert bullshit sanctimony that I don’t want to type out] But his allegations regarding me are obviously preposterous.” Dalinar nodded to himself, as if this were all expected. “I believe an apology is due.” Kaladin struggled to remain upright, his leg feeling weak. So this would be his final punishment. Apologizing to Amaram in public. A humiliation beyond all others. “I--” Kaladin began.” “Not you, son,” Dalinar said softly.

Not you, son. Not you, son. Not you, son.

Not you, son.

I shit you not, the first time I read that I yelled aloud in the middle of class. This is the single most evocative sentence in the book for me--and it’s three words. But it flips your perception of what Dalinar’s been doing on it’s head, cuts through the building anxiety like a knife, and fuCKS UP AMARAM ROYALLY.

Dalinar had been laying an intricate trap for Amaram that required him to be a cheating, lying backstabbing son of a bitch--and Amaram, being a cheating lying backstabbing son of a bitch, fell for it completely. Dalinar is trusting.

That doesn’t mean he’s stupid.

“Sometimes good men must die so that greater goals must be accomplished.” THAT’S THE BULLSHIT THAT YOU ALL ARE PULLING, ISN’T IT, AMARAM. SONS OF HONOR MY FUCKING ASS. YOU DON’T KNOW HONOR FROM YOUR OWN SHIT. STOP SPITTING SANCTIMONY, YOU MURDERER. YOU DON’T EVEN FUCKING REGRET IT. YOU THINK YOU’RE THE SECOND COMING OF SOME FUCKING HERO WHEN YOU’RE JUST A CRAVEN, POWER-GRUBBING BASTARD WHO CAN’T POSSIBLY COMPREHEND THAT A SLAVE MIGHT BE MORE IMPORTANT IN THE SCHEME OF THINGS THAN YOU ARE. I WANT CULTIVATION TO LEARN THAT YOU’RE USING THE NAME OF HER DEAD PARTNER TO CONDONE CRAVEN, DISHONORABLE, CORRUPT BULLSHIT AND I WANT HER TO TEAR YOU APART. BETTER YET, I WANT YOU TO DIE KNOWING FOREVER THAT KALADIN IS MORE CRUCIAL TO THE SALVATION OF ROSHAR THAN YOU ARE, AND THAT THE HERALDS ABANDONED YOU. HONOR IS DEAD, AMARAM. HONOR IS DEAD AND YOU DO NOTHING.

SOMEONE WHO KNEW WHAT HONOR WAS WOULDN’T HAVE KILLED KALADIN’S MEN. SOMEONE WHO KNEW WHAT HONOR WAS WOULDN’T HAVE LIED. SOMEONE WHO KNEW WHAT HONOR WAS WOULDN’T HAVE WATCHED WHILE SADEAS TRIED TO CRIPPLE ADOLIN AND RENARIN. SOMEONE WHO KNEW WHAT HONOR WAS WOULDN’T STEAL AND KILL FOR HIS OWN PERSONAL POWER.

YOU CAN’T SAY SHIT ABOUT HONOR, MERIDAS AMARAM. YOU AREN’T WORTHY TO EVEN TALK ABOUT IT BECAUSE CLEARLY, YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT MEANS.

um. anyway. the plot. that thing. I should probably get back to it.

“Thank you,” Kaladin said to Dalinar, “For believing me.” “I do listen sometimes, soldier,” Dalinar said. “Now go back to camp and get some rest.”

GOOD DAD, BEST DAD.

Also, Dalinar notes that holding a Shardblade feels wrong to him. Those Radiant Senses are tingling.

The Diagram notes that Szeth could possibly put extra strain on people who are exploring the Nahel bond, and lead to them becoming Radiants sooner. Which kind of happens, but not in the exact way they think--it’s keeping Kaladin away from Dalinar--and near Elhokar--that causes the problem.

Whoops.

Shallan and Adolin are flirting, by which I mean Adolin is teasing her for having a slow horse and she’s threatening to remove his toes.

There are further hints of a burgeoning love triangle that I am deliberately ignoring because I refuse to even think about that happening. No. Don’t you dare, Brandon. And Shallan finally actually gets a copy of Words of Radiance.

Also it mentions “women who could melt a stone with a touch” and a) DUSTBRINGERS PLEASE TELL ME MORE and b) I’m. gay.

Also Navani offers to help Shallan with her work, realizing that she should have offered much sooner. Also we get a wonderful line from Navani: “My little Jasnah, insufferable and wonderful.”

Shallan also tells Navani that Jasnah was a Surgebinder.

Kaladin is dealing with the Weeping. And Moash, in this chilling moment:

“Sometimes lives must be spent for the greater good,” Kaladin said. “Yes, exactly!” “That’s what Amaram said. In regards to my friends, whom he murdered to cover up his secrets.” “Well, that’s different, obviously. He’s a lighteyes.” Kaladin looked to Moash, whose eyes had turned as light a tan as those of any Brightlord. Same color as Amaram’s, actually. “So are you.”

Fuck, that’s a powerful Not So Different moment. Although Moash brushes it off and then leaves.

The diagram has an interesting fragment: “We must find one [honorblade] Can we make to use a truthless can we craft a weapon” So the diagram may have been behind Szeth being called Truthless. Yikes. He’s not going to like that.

Anyway, Shallan likes the Weeping, and is drawing Jasnah in one of her last moments--tired, terrified, in the cabin of the ship.

And Shallan tells Dalinar that she’s a radiant. By making a small image of Jasnah. This is just a deeply important moment. Dalinar then thinks to make Shallan lead them, and Shallan is like. hell no. nope. not me.

Dalinar just lead them yourself.

Dalinar stopped in place, and stared at her in surprise. Then he grunted, his face barely visible. “I see Jasnah in you.” Rarely had Shallan been given such a compliment.

And then they find a Parshendi body with red eyes. Yikes. And also, Rlain comes back! Well, Shen, but he’s Rlain, and he’s Bridge Four. Fuck yeah.

“Yes. [Eshonai] was my commander. But now...Sir, I have reason to believe that everyone I know...everyone I loved...has been destroyed, monsters left in their place. The listeners, the Parshendi, may be no more. I have nothing left...” “Yes you do,” Skar said from outside the ring of guards. “You’re Bridge Four.” Rlain looked at him. “I’m a traitor.” “Ha!” Rock said. “Is little problem. Can be fixed.”

I LOVE BRIDGE FOUR SO MUCH.

Also Shallan is doing scouting and apparently Dalinar was just like “Get Shallan to come back and if she doesn’t tell her that I’ll send Adolin to cart her back over his shoulder” and Shallan is like “nice sounds hot anyway, science”

Anyway, Shallan finding the Oathgate is the only real retreat plan that the army has, so like, no pressure.

Kaladin is dealing with the Weeping and his injury, and getting through the training ground while limping. Also, when he gets back, Elhokar is there, waiting for him--aaaaand Elhokar is drunk.

Wonderful. Also I love how every time they describe Elhokar they point out that he has a big nose.

So we get Elhokar Inadequacy Rant no.1. Elhokar is sharp--he notices that there is a pattern of heroism around Kaladin, and he also knows that he himself doesn’t have any success--he gives himself a brutal smackdown of his own flaws:

“When I try to be strong, I make a fool of myself. When I try to be merciful, people walk all over me. When I try to listen to counsel, it turns out I’ve picked the wrong men! When I try to do everything on my own, Dalinar has to take over lest I ruin the kingdom. How do people know what to do? Why don’t I know what to do? I was born to this office, given the throne by the Almighty himself! Why would he give me the title, but not the capacity?”

Like, he’s going about this wrong, but god, this shit is fucking relateable. Elhokar does not have the personality of a good leader. But he can’t exactly not lead, becuase the kingdom still holds to the divine right of kings. So he grasps at straws, too uncertain of himself to make a solid choice one way or the other, too proud to admit his mistakes, craving flattery because it reassures him he’s not useless but knowing at the same time in his heart that it’s all a fucking lie.

Anyway, Kaladin refuses to teach him, and says he’s a bad king. Elhokar did ask. Also, Elhokar notes that when Kaladin came, the “shadows”--what Elhokar saw in mirrors and the corners of his eyes--left. Interesting. Very interesting.

The Diagram here mentions the Unmade and the fact that some of them can probably think.

With Dalinar, they’re about to actually join in battle with the Parshendi. Aladar freaks out because holy shit, Voidbringers, and Dalinar basically gives him a “get ahold of yourself” speech to get him to actually lead.

Okay, here’s a main difference between Dalinar’s viewpoint and Amaram’s. Dalinar is willing to sacrifice his army to stop the voidbringers, true. But he is only doing that because he is taking the same risk. He will lead that army because he wouldn’t ask them to go if he wasn’t at the lead, taking the same risk.

I’m going out on a fucking limb and saying that Amaram isn’t willing to go through what he put Kaladin through. Or what he did to Kaladin’s men. He thinks he’s too important to risk himself, and that’s why he’s such a sanctimonious ass.

Also, Dalinar gives impassioned speeches to Roion and Aladar, and then Sebarial is like where’s mine and Dalinar’s like you...can just go into the command tent and Sebarial is like Nice.

Time for another Good Dalinar Battle Speech: Yes, those are Voidbringers. Yes, we’re going to fight them. I don’t know what they can do. I don’t know why they’ve returned. But we came here to stop them.

I know you’re scared, but you have heard of my visions in the highstorms. In the warcamps, the lighteyes mocked me and dismissed what I’d seen as delusions. Well out there, you see proof that my visions were true! Out there, you see what I have been told would come!

I have been sent by the Almighty himself to save this land from another Desolation. I have seen what those things can do; I have lived lives broken by the Voidbringers. I’ve seen kingdoms shattered, peoples ruined, technology forgotten. I’ve seen civilization itself brought to the trembling edge of collapse.

We will prevent this! Today you fight not for the weath of a lighteyes, or even for the honor of your king. Today, you fight for the good of all men. You will not fight alone! Trust in what I have seen, trust in my words. If those things have returned, then so must the forces that once defeated them. We will see miracles before this day is out, men! We merely have to be strong enough to deserve them.

And then the Parshendi start singing, and it’s a completely new song that is more frenetic, and Rlain is freaking the fuck out. He says that Dalinar has to stop the song at all costs.

Back over to Kaladin. He’s wading through the training ground, which is now a small lake. He goes to seek out Zahel, who has strung up a hammock on lightning rods because he fears neither god nor man. As well he should--I mean, it’s Vasher.

His metaphors remain hilarious.

“Excellent deduction. Like fresh blue paint on a wall.”

Anyway, Zahel asks what Kaladin wants.

“Have you ever had to choose between two equally distasteful choices?” “Every day I choose to keep breathing.” “I worry something awful is going to happen. I can prevent it, but the awful thing...it might be best for everyone if it does happen.” “Huh.” “No advice?” “Choose the option that makes it easiest for you to sleep at night. That’s what I wish I’d done.”

This turns out to be the exact advice Kaladin needs to hear, tbh. He grabs a spear and goes to try to practice. He also starts literally yelling at the storm. And he realizes the rationale he’s using--”It’s right to remove the wounded limb. This is what we have to do, to stay alive” is the rationale that was used to kill Tien.

And Kaladin realizes that for Dalinar, Elhokar is Tien.

#stormlight archive liveblog #i loathe meridas amaram #FUCK YEAH BRIDGE FOUR #elhokar is trying his best #hi vasher

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jaeminlore · 7 years

Text

Thief Pt 3 // Park Jimin

Pt. 1 Pt. 2

- Part Three: Secrets

summary: in which prince jimin doesn’t know that his future wife is not only trying to steal from him, but is also trying to kill him.

words: 4,170

category: prince au, fantasy au

author note: i made jimin’s cousin chanyeol so that’s cool. also, tell me what you guys think, if you want! also for the sake of this story you really like math okay bye

- destinee

“I’m sorry,” Jimin said for the umpteenth time since they stopped for your little episode. He felt it was his fault, since you became faint as soon as he mentioned that you two wouldn’t be together much.

Maybe you were worried about being in a new place. A new environment and a new economy could be overwhelming for anyone.

Maybe he could calm you down by making you think of your home. “Tell me about where you’re from.”

You looked into the prince’s eyes. You seemed to search for some kind of emotion, although Jimin didn’t know which one you wanted to see.

“I live at the inn with Hobi. We take care of each other. I think I’m worried about what will happen now that we’re separated.” you told him.

Jimin’s eyes grew wide. “I d-didn’t know you were already in a relationship. I thought they only put single women in the raffle.”

“They do,” you assured the confused prince. “Hoseok and I aren’t together like that. We’re friends, that’s all.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Yep.”

“…”

Jimin had never been more relieved to see the palace gates in his life. His happiness showed on his face when a fond smile grew.

In excitement, he pointed out the windows at things to you.

“That’s the bakery where Mr. Kim bakes the best pastries ever. I’ll take you sometime, don’t worry. Over there is the school. All the kids can’t wait to meet you. Behind the school is a little chapel where I was thinking we could get married. My father says we should get married in the palace in front of everyone, but I kind of want an intimate service. It’s ultimately our choice, you and me.” Jimin was rambling now, but he couldn’t help it.

He had a new friend to show his world to. He couldn’t wait to get started.

You, on the other hand, barely heard anything the prince was saying. You were too busy gazing up at the humongous castle casting a shadow over the coach. With your eyes shining, you let your mind take everything in.

High turrets and towers surrounded the grey stone walls. Men paced back and forth atop the wall, with swords at their sides. Other men stood in the high watchtowers with binoculars, diligently watching for any threat. A horn sounded a ways away, announcing the prince’s return. Flags made of rich purple silk and decorated with a silhouette of the North Star waved accordingly.

The smell of the sea was strong. You had never smelt fresh seawater before. Rotten fish: yes, but fresh ocean air: no. Men and women worked on the docks, loading up ships with cargo of things you could only dream of.

“…The ships are really loud sometimes but you get used to–” Jimin trailed off when he finally noticed that you weren’t paying him any attention.

A small giggle escaped his lips as he witnessed the childlike fascination in your eyes. He suddenly felt very proud of his country, of his town.

“Do you like it?” Jimin asked, biting his bottom lip in anticipation.

“It’s beautiful,” you said. You turned to face him, “Does it always smell like this?”

“Always.”

The coach came to a halt right outside the palace. “We’re here, Your Majesty.” Jeongguk shouted from his front perch.

You made to open the door, but Jimin stopped you, his hand over yours.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“Wait for Jeongguk to open it for you.”

“Why?”

“It’s his job.” Jimin said.

You didn’t like the authoritative tone in his voice, or the way he rose his eyebrows as if it was obvious how one man would serve another.

How would you know? You didn’t serve men. You never did anything without something in return. You weren’t a slave to those in higher power.

Jeongguk was, though.

Perhaps after the king and prince were assassinated, the young guard could serve the king’s nephew. Then he could get the treatment he deserves.

When the door was opened, Jeongguk offered a hand towards you, the future princess. You gave him a genuine smile and accepted it.

As soon as your boots hit the level ground, you knew you were in a different world. Already, people were passing in clothes more expensive than the very coach you were brought here in.

This heist might be more than trouble than the money it’s worth.

Two months, Y/n, you reminded yourself. You eyed Jimin out of the corner of your eye. He’ll be gone, and you’ll be back with Hoseok before they can say–

“Y/n? You coming?” Jimin said. He held out his elbow, and you gripped it as daintily as you could, pushing the venomous thoughts from your head.

The gates of the palace were swung open by two guards, and Jimin led you into the palace courtyard.

Yet again, you stood amazed as you saw the fine architectural designs. A large fountain was placed in the middle of the stone courtyard, filled with clear water and little koi fish.

Along the walls were balconies from the main castle, where guards were situated, along with men and women of the court. In the far left corner was a well, where people were gathering their daily provision of water. To the far right were a few knights, preparing their horses for some sort of scouting mission.

You let go of Jimin’s arm and ran to the fountain. You dipped your fingers in the cool water and wriggled them around, giggling as the fish swam away from you.

Suddenly, a hand gripped your arm in a vice manner and you felt Jeongguk’s breath down your neck as he let out in a hurried manner, “Just remain calm.”

“And who are you to touch my wife’s fountain?”

You turned to see a man taller than you and frightening in his posture. His eyes were narrowed.

He must’ve been the king, and yet you found it hard to imagine that Jimin and this man were related.

At the thought of Jimin, you turned back to look at him. You noticed he had come closer. “Father, she’s never been to the capitol. She doesn’t know.”

The king glared at his son for a moment before turning to Jeongguk, “Take her away from here. I don’t want to see her. And you–” he looked at Jimin. “–we’ll talk later.”

Jimin flinched and bowed his head. “Yes, Father.”

You watched him follow his father out of the courtyard like a dog with his tail between his legs.

“Let’s go,” Jeongguk whispered, grabbing your elbow and steering you away from the crowd.

The crowd had barely batted an eye towards the royal family or the confrontation that had just appeared. You wondered if this was a daily occurrence or if the people were just being courteous.

Jeongguk pulled you up a spiral staircase which led up to a corridor. It took a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the dim lights. Only a small amount of lanterns lined the walls of the hall. You followed the guard to the last room on the left, where he knocked swiftly on the wooden door before barging into the room.

A tall girl was inside, bustling around the room. “Kookie! I told you to knock!”

“Okay.”

The girl huffed and pointed at his chest with a feather duster. “I’m not done dusting.”

“Y/n doesn’t mind a bit of dust,” Jeongguk smirked at the furious girl.

You glanced between the two, unsure if that was a jab toward you or a jab towards the girl. Either way, you decided to speak up on it, “Of course I don’t mind dust.”

The girl turned towards you and shoved the duster under her armpit. Then she bowed, “I’m Minah, at your service.”

Jeongguk chuckled and whispered to you, “She’s your maid.”

“Yah!” Minah swatted Jeongguk with her duster. “Don’t forget that I’m older than you, and I can beat you up.”

“I’ve had knights training,” Jeongguk boasted.

“My father is your teacher.” Minah retorted proudly.

You broke away from the bickering couple to look around what you assumed to be your new bedroom.

The walls were stone, yet covered in hanging tapestries of intricate designs in the most beautiful colors. Ivory furniture was distributed evenly around the large room. An entire section of the room was dedicated to beauty, complete with a vanity, a wardrobe, a bath, and a screen to dress behind. A large canopy bed rested against the center wall, covered in deep purple silks and golden tassels. Two wardrobes filled with fine clothes took up the opposite wall, save in between them, where a door led to a balcony.

“This is all mine?” You asked, amazed.

Minah scoffed, “Of course. You can’t be the fiancée of a prince and live in a nobleman’s home, can you?”

You didn’t answer for lack of words.

“I am your servant, so ask me for anything and I am obligated to make sure you get it.” Minah told you.

Jeongguk smiled, “And I am the royal guard for you and the prince. Any time you wish to leave the castle, I will escort you.”

You looked up at Jeongguk, “Speaking of him, where did Jimin go?”

“Er…” Jeongguk glanced at Minah for help. “Just a bit of royal discipline.”

“The king isn’t a bad person,” Minah interjected, seeing the confusion on your face, “he is just teaching the prince certain rules that he must follow before he becomes king.”

“Oh.” You still found yourself feeling queasy. You figured it must’ve been from the long ride to the castle. “May I sleep for a while?”

“Of course,” Minah said, ushering Jeongguk out the door. “I’ll wake you for dinner.”

“One more time,” the king instructed his son.

Jimin stopped out of pure exhaustion and let his sword fall limp at his side. “Father, I can’t…”

“You aren’t going to dinner until you get the move down. Look at Chanyeol, he’s already finished with his training, and he’s not even going to be king!”

Jimin bowed his head in shame. Being compared to his cousin daily was something he felt he would never get used to. He wasn’t like Chanyeol. He wasn’t a strong and mighty warrior. He couldn’t fight an army of men by himself, that’s not how he was made.

Unfortunately, Jimin’s father could never see that.

“Again!”

Jimin sighed in defeat as he brought his sword up once again and repeated the move he had been taught.

By his tenth try, he finally accomplished what he had set out to do. Now exhausted and drenched in sweat, he shuffled over towards his father and picked up a towel set out for him.

As he wiped his face, his mind travelled to you, and he caught himself wondering if you had had dinner yet.

“Father?”

“Yes?”

Jimin cleared his throat. Now’s as good a time as any.

“Why do I have to marry Y/n?”

His father’s head shot up and he watched his son suspiciously. “It’s the law.”

“But why is it the law?” Jimin pushed, “I don’t understand.”

The king stood up, towering over his son. Then I’m a low and terrifying voice, he threatened, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to answer to.”

Jimin bit his lip, thinking he should’ve kept quiet. “Yes, Father.”

You sat upon a soft pink cushion as Minah served you a large dish. “Fresh squid from the market, cooked the way the prince likes it.”

You paused, your utensils in hand, “Will he be joining me?”

Minah wrung her hands together. “I’m sorry. The prince has special appointments and can’t eat with company.”

“Why not?”

“The king says it slows him down. He says we mustn’t let Jimin eat with others–”

“Minah!” Jeongguk’s voice barked from behind the door. “Cut it out.“

Minah bowed her head. “I fear I’ve said too much. Don’t worry about him. When you two get married, I’m sure the king will let you two eat together.”

You munched bitterly on the delicious squid. Only I need to eat with him soon for my plan to work.

Your plan was simple: get the prince drunk enough to tell you a few secrets about him and his father. Then, you could use them against the pair and retrieve your money in no time.

“What do I do here?” Out genuine curiosity and boredom, you glanced up at Minah. “I can’t stay in this room all day, can I?”

Minah seemed relieved that you had changed the subject. “We’ll begin preparing for your wedding in a week, just so you can get used to everything first. Until then, you can accompany me on my duties, or you can make Jeongguk take you on a tour of the castle.”

“I would like that,” you mumbled.

“It’s settled then!” Minah cheered.

You finished the rest of your food, mentality thanking the prince for having such good taste in cuisine. After Minah cleared the table, she helped you prepare for your first royal bath.

Used to bathing in an old bucket behind the inn, you were alarmed when you felt the water and found it warm. A soothing aroma wafted through the air as you sat in the large bath.

“It’s lavender,” Minah told you. You watched lazily as your maid picked a nightgown from one of the wardrobes and draped it over the dressing screen.

“And the bed pans have just been removed so your sheets will be toasty as you fall asleep.” Minah said, bowing.

You blushed in embarrassment (you wasn’t sure if you liked being served by others) and said, “Thank you, Minah. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. I will be back in the morning to dress you and prepare you for breakfast.”

She bowed before leaving, and you watched her go. This life definitely wasn’t for you, you had decided quickly. Luckily, it wouldn’t last. You would figure out where any jewels and documents were on your tour with Jeongguk, then you would befriend the prince and get him drunk. In his drunken state, he would confess the weaknesses within the kingdom. You would be in and out in no time.

Of course there was the little problem that the prince seemed to always be busy.

You pursed your lips in thought. One night to make him drop his guard and give you the information. That was all you really needed. Then you would be back with Hoseok in your little debt-free inn.

With that positive thought inside of your mind, you washed up and put on your nightgown. Then you slipped under the warm covers and fell into a comforting slumber.

Jimin stared at his clock in despair.

It read two in the morning, eliciting a yawn from the exhausted prince. Right after he had washed up and prepared for bed, his servant had barged into his room with an apologetic smile and a stack of papers.

“What’s this?” Jimin had placed his glasses upon his nose and scanned the papers. “Repossession forms?”

“Yes, Sir,” his servant had said. “Many businesses in Krull have failed to pay their due, and we need your signature to go and repossess them.”

“Why can’t my father do it?” Jimin asked, a slight whine in his voice. Honestly, he longed to crawl into his warm blankets and sleep for the few hours he could.

Again, a sympathetic smile grazed the servant’s face, “He has ordered me to pass it onto you.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

That was four hours ago. Finally, Jimin was on the last form. All he had to do was copy the form word for word and write a declaration of repossession. He sluggishly lifted the paper under the little candlelight he had to work with.

He began to read it, “Under the authority of King Park and Eden, The Jung’s Inn is to be repossessed into the property of the king…”

Jimin squinted at the form. Wasn’t that the place Y/n’s friend lived?

One thing kept replaying in the prince’s mind, and that was the sadness in your eyes when you had to leave the inn. No matter how shabby it seemed, it must have been important to you. It must’ve been home.

Folding the paper into a neat little square, Jimin placed the form into the bottom of his desk drawer.

They would never know it was missing, and your inn wouldn’t be taken away.

With a satisfied smile on his face, Jimin blew out his candle and prepared for the sleep he desperately needed.

King Park stood on his balcony the next morning, observing his kingdom.

With a permanent sneer on his face, he witnessed the guard Jeongguk showing you around.

He hated that guard. The guard his wife personally choose for their son when he was an infant and the prince was a toddler.

If Jimin wasn’t already so suspicious, the king would’ve banished Jeongguk to Krull already. Far away from the castle and the king. To the land of Krull where the rest of his family lived–not that the guard knew that.

The king’s servant entered the balcony at this time and bowed to his king. “Your Majesty, the board has requested a meeting regarding…the law.”

“Ah,” the king grinned devilishly, “Excellent. The sooner the good law is fulfilled the better for me and my son.”

After Jeongguk showed you around the castle, he left you alone to attend to a few things. Once alone, you made your way back to the library.

Back in Krull, there was an old library with about one hundred books in it. You had already read those, of course. Now, inside of Eden’s castle was a library filled with books upon books of multiple genres and even multiple languages.

You were dying to get your hands on them.

Once you found the familiar hallway, you came to a fork in the road. Or rather, a fork in the corridor. One door on your left, and another to your right. For the life of you, you couldn’t remember which one was the library.

With a nonchalant shrug, you opened the door on the right. With a sigh of relief, you glanced at all the books around you.

“Now which book to read…” You tapped your chin in thought.

There were signs painted in the walls with little arrows pointing to each section of the library.

You saw the one labeled finances and followed the arrow.

As a well-known thief, you wouldn’t have gotten where you were now had you not been smart with numbers and currency. It was something you had a knack for, and it was something no one expected.

You knew exactly when you were being cheated in a deal, and you made sure every transaction was a fair one.

As strange as some people (mostly Hobi) found it, you enjoyed studying numbers.

“Oh!” you said in surprise as you noticed the other person in the room.

You weren’t heard by the prince, who sat with his back hunched over a desk. A quill pen rested between his fingers while he stared at the papers in front of him.

You crept over quietly and looked over his shoulder at the paper he seemed so distraught about.

The equations were all familiar to you, as familiar as your own name. It was some kind of balance for the kingdom’s finances. You had already finished three problems in your head when the prince noticed your presence and jumped.

You looked at him. An apology was at the tip of your tongue, but he was too close for you to say anything. Your noses were almost touching, and your hair was definitely brushing his collarbones through his partially unbuttoned shirt.

“W-what are you doing here?” Jimin asked. His eyes flickered all over your face before they drifted back to your eyes.

You stood up and cleared your throat awkwardly. “I was coming to get a book to read and I saw you working. I wanted to see what had you so stressed.”

Jimin opened his mouth, but nothing came out, so he simply gestured to his work. “I’m just doing our weekly finances. How much we gave away, how much we got in return, that kind of stuff.”

“Can I help?” You asked.

Jimin couldn’t help but stare. Someone wanted to help him…with numbers?

“You want to help me sort out finances instead of relaxing and reading a novel?”

You shrugged, a small smile on your face. Jimin watched as a small light gradually grew inside of your warm eyes. “I was going to read about finances and accounting anyway, so why not help you. It’ll be a mind exercise.”

Jimin smirked. Your face flushed.

Jimin found it rather attractive that you were into something so practical like arithmetic.

His father always told him that women weren’t very interesting. That they had no interest in anything other than gossip and nylon. Jimin had never known if it was true, as the only women he had ever met were the maids, and they weren’t allowed to talk to him about anything other than his schedule.

Now Jimin once again felt himself doubting his father. How many lies had he been told?

Here in front of him was a girl who seemed willing to help him with finances of all things. You couldn’t be any different than other girls. There must be more girls and women who liked math and science, or music and literature. Why hadn’t his father mentioned them?

“Are there schools in Krull?” He asked.

You, who hadn’t noticed his inward strife, furrowed your eyebrows. “I don’t know if you would call it a school. Some of the mothers will gather all of the children and teach them all they know. Of course, the information is limited, but they learn how to read and write.”

“They learn math and science?”

“A bit. Most of them have to quit studying and start working to support their family.” You seemed personally offended at this fact, which made Jimin smile fondly.

“Do they have schools here?” You questioned.

“Yes,” Jimin smiled. “We have three different trade schools. One for arts, one for maths and sciences, and one for literature.”

“That sounds amazing,” you sighed.

“I guess so.” Jimin felt bemused. He had never really thought of school as being something some people didn’t have access too. “You can help, if you want to.”

“Great.” You pulled a lone chair up beside his, causing the prince to scoot over. “Because if you had kept going, Kim’s Bakery was going to suffer some major economic loss.”

“Ah, really?” Jimin looked at the page. He saw he had multiplied more than a few numbers incorrectly and his face flushed. “I hate this.”

“Let me do it, then,” You said. You took the paper and re-wrote the problem, explaining aloud what you was doing and how you came to the conclusion.

“Why is it so easy when you do it?” Jimin whined, absentmindedly leaning into your side.

You stilled, feeling his arm press against yours in such a friendly manner.

What are you doing, Y/n? Becoming close with the the person you’re going to help murder? Bad idea.

You leaned away from him inconspicuously. Jimin didn’t notice, and if he did, he didn’t show it. He simply settled himself beside you comfortably and watched as you fixed his mistakes.

Perhaps he didn’t know the meaning of personal space, but he kept his cheek dangerously close to yours as he watched you work from over your shoulder

“I can’t believe you’re doing this for me,” Jimin said, offering you a soft grin.

Sell it, Y/n. Make him believe. Build him up and get on his good side.

“Well, we’re going to get married soon so we have to start working together. Carrying each other’s strengths and weakness alike, right?”

Jimin stayed quiet for a long period of time, just staring at you. You stared back, wondering if you had laid it on too thick. Of course that was your job, to make the prince trust you with his life.

Until finally, Jimin breathed out a very small, “Right.”

As stated earlier, Jimin hadn’t been around much women.

So was it normal to feel a straining feeling in the pit of his stomach? Was it normal for his cheeks to heat up from your close proximity?

“So, that should be the last one. You seem to be good at division, but multiplication may be your downfall.” You laughed, and yet another strange feeling appeared in Jimin’s stomach.

“I-I need to go,” he choked out, grabbing his papers quickly and leaving the library.

He wouldn’t look back. He wouldn’t let you effect him in any way.

But the efforts were futile, for his heart was already beating out of it’s chest at the thought of his future wife being at his side.

- to be continued -

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typhonheroes · 7 years

Text

Journal de Witte

It was Daniel’s idea, through and through. To keep a journal. It felt like a necessity, like if he didn’t do it then no one else would, and frankly no one else would. He wasn’t an important person, not a king or a prince, not even a noble. He couldn’t consider himself a war hero in the slightest, a brave man perhaps but not one who all the world deserved to know about. He was, frankly, just a man, and that made him none too important. So if he wanted anyone to keep track of his life, then he’d need to be the one to do it. That’s why after signing on with Kazu for this little adventure, he’d gone to the local merchant and purchased a leather bound book, pages blank and fresh for the picking. He’d also gone and nabbed an ink well and a feather, for the sake of keeping things consistent.

Then, the night before they were due to leave town and head off on some adventure, Daniel wrote his very first entry.

Year 1140, Month 4, Day 23 Expedition date 0, entry 1

Today is the day of my first journal entry, and perhaps the day of a new way of living. I will be frank. I’d never considered keeping a journal before. When I was younger and life was fast, the prospect of sitting down every night and writing down my thoughts seemed frivolous. Things were too exciting to stop for such pointless tasks, and at a time when I hardly knew how to read it seemed even more foolish to waste my time with a task so frustrating as writing was. The struggle that I endured to learn to read and write in common was eventually all worth it, as being able to sign my own name seemed to big the biggest reward one could have ever given me, aside from the blessing of a hand. Still, even as I grew older I had never thought of keeping a journal. At least not until Akkadia fell. When I saw the hall burn with my own eyes I knew... I knew it was over. The dream was dead. I needed to move on.

This seems like the best way to move on.

I met a boy named Kazu the other day. He’s a sage apparently, serves some goddess name Venna. He’s nice enough, if a bit naive. He already almost got played by a couple of thugs. I stepped in though, because it seems that old habits die hard and I still like playing the hero. Anyway, he offered to pay me to watch his back. It’s easy money, I can’t imagine we’ll get into too much trouble. So that’s where I’m going next. I’m going to be with him, keeping a little log in this journal of mine. Who knows, maybe if I die something else’ll find it and put it to good use. Maybe it’ll serve as an omen, who knows. Whatever happens with it, whatever they do with it, I just hope it does some good.

Year 1140, Month 4, Day 25 Expedition date 1, entry 2

Today we left, Kazu and I. We have spent the last few moons preparing ourselves, buying the necessary supplies and such. We’ve found ourselves with a tent big enough to fit the both of us, a fair amount of rations to manage us for a week or two of hard travel, and a few other necessities that I deemed important (namely a whetstone, a bag of bait, some rope, and a couple other things). This morning I finally checked Indigo out of the stables. He’s been my trusty steed all throughout the years, from when I was a vigilant to now, so it seems fitting that we continue on for as long as my old stallion can bare me. When his time comes I’ll respectfully put him to rest, but until then we are in this all together.

I was a bit worried that Kazu would be intimidated by Indigo. He is a big horse after all, bigger than most. His size and stature has always been a necessity in my line of work. But the sage is already small, a fair bit smaller than me, so I was worried that he’d be overwhelmed. He wasn’t, though. In fact he immediately seemed to adore Indigo. He loves animals it seems, they do treat him far better than people ever have from the looks of it.

Before the sun was high we had packed our things and rode out of the city on Indigo. I was more than happy to leave. That damned place had only been my home begrudgingly. Had it not been for my imprisonment and potential execution then I would have never been there, and yet if it wasn’t for the mages then I would have died just across the border in the homeland of Lotherian scum. I will say that I was at least lucky to have been in that tavern the night I met Kazu. I would have easily died otherwise. Still, Anduvar has never treated me well, and I never intend to stay long enough to give that place a second chance.

So we left. It was as simple as that. The first day’s travel brought hardly anything interesting. We’re still too close to the main roads to hit much action. Even the beasts known better than to wander near the home of the mages, as it only takes one good mage to wipe out a whole army, so what can a monster do? Nothing, and the beasts have realized that well enough.

Kazu is very talkative. At first he had come off as nothing more than timid and too curious for his own good (of which he is still very much both of those things), but I’ve started to realize that all this naivety seems to just stem from a life of seclusion. Although I don’t know too much, I know that sages spend much of their early lives as hermits, locked away in temples, forever worshiping and studying as if their life depends on it. It’s easily a life of devotion, as a servant of Adar one could say I did similarly, although it seems that Venna likes to keep her servants locked away while Adar prefers to have his risk their lives for the betterment of humanity. Not that I’m trying to be all high-ho about it, if Kazu has come out to help the world then Venna must have had some good in mind.

We’ve set up for the night. Things are quiet. It looks like a slow start to the adventure. As much as I’d hate to say it, it’s for the best. I don’t think Kazu could survive long otherwise.

Year 1140, Month 5, Day 2 Expedition date 8, entry 3

It has been about a week since we left the city. Anduvar seems to fade the farther into the wilderness you travel. In fact, most human qualms seem to disappear as nature takes over. You forget about the war, the chaos, the bullshit. Politics don’t mean anything out here. You can’t lie your way past an owlbear out here. It’ll eat you alive before you can spew anymore bullshit.

That doesn’t mean that the humans aren’t a problem anymore though, not entirely. There’s a war going on in the background, you have to remember. Every so often you’ll see signs of it too. An abandoned shield. A forgotten sword. Sometimes you’ll find a bloody tunic, in worse times you’ll find a body. Shallow mass graves seem to be a hot topic. Kazu can hardly stand to look at them. He wants to help everyone, but it hasn’t crossed him yet that you can’t help everyone. Not in a war.

We came across a kid today. Poor guy. He couldn’t be any older than nineteen, maybe twenty. He was shocked out of his wits. Covered in all sorts of blood, we had stopped to assess him, more-so at Kazu’s request than my own. He wouldn’t talk to us much, just said he’d killed someone. Then Kazu walked off to go grab something from Indigo and the boy finally told me. He looked me dead in the eyes and said he’d beheaded his best friend. I asked him why, he said they fought on opposite sides of the war. Poor kid was Lotherian through and through, so when things kicked off the Mageocracy had all the rugged nordic kids sent back home. This poor sap was unlucky enough to get recruited into the war and then what happens next? He meets his childhood buddy from back when they both lived under the same flag. Poor kid’s friend’s a POW. The kid tells me next that his general ordered all the prisoners to be executed. He thought it was a bit excessive but the generals don’t give a damn. “Mage scum is mage scum” they say. So the kid had to kill his best friend, right then and there. He went through with it, because insubordination meant death. But right after the kid deserted. Threw down his colors and ran. Couldn’t take it anymore apparently. Now he’s wandering around, trying to find a way out. But he couldn’t admit that in front of a priest, not in front of Kazu, so the second Kazu comes back the kid shuts up again. Won’t mention a word of it.

We gave him some rations, some directions, and a saying of good luck. I don’t know if we’ll ever see him again. I hope he finds a way out.

Year 1140, Month 5, Day 10 Expedition date 16, entry 4

More human problems. It seems that this war attracts the worst of people. What this time? A bunch of deserters trying to hold up a bridge. Kazu and I come up on Indigo, minding our own business, but from a mile away I could tell something shady was going on. There were about five men all clad in Lotherian garb, helmets and all, but there was no military outpost nearby. No camps, no generals. I could tell already that they were either bandits who’d gone and looted the dead or some Lotherian soldiers who decided war was too much for them and instead chose to take advantage of the weak and vulnerable. Real men, huh. It’s just what you’d expect of Lotherians.

We come up to the bridge and the leader of this little gang decides to step up to me. He yells “halt” like he’s got authority and starts demanding money, saying it’s for a guaranteed safe passage as the area is apparently under the control of the Lotherians.

I know damn well that’s not true, but I don’t want to burst his bubble just yet, so I let him babble on for a while. I can tell Kazu’s curious, poking his head over to see what’s going on, but I can also tell that he notices something fishy’s going on, because his hand on my shoulder tightens a bit when he sees the men. The leader talks for a while and then puts his hand out like he’s expecting me to just hand over all our money. Unfortunately for him I’m not about to fall into his scheme, so instead I pull my horse to the side and get down, telling Kazu to stay put.

I walk over to these guys and decide to be frank. I say, “I know you’re bullshitting, so just let us through and I won’t cause any problems.” But the leader doesn’t want to hear it, he thinks he can pull this off if he just keeps yelling at me, so he does. He starts demanding some respect because apparently he’s big in the army, real big. It was only my dignity that kept me from spitting in his face. I tell him again, “We’re going to go on through and if you try to stop us I will not hesitate to kill you.” He doesn’t take that very kindly, draws his sword on me, his goons do the same thing, so there’s five armed men surrounding me. I glance over at Kazu and he looks as nervous as all nine hells but I’ve already told him a dozen times before that if I get killed then he just needs to take Indigo and go, and I can see that his hand’s are on the reigns, so I know he’s got that in mind even if he doesn’t want to leave me alone to die.

The leader tells me one more time to pay up, as if it’s going to make a difference, and I just look him in the eyes and tell him “You’ll have to kill me first.” And that’s the last straw, the guy swings dead for my head and I duck. The rest is much of a blur but by the end of it I’ve got a long slash down my shoulder, and five dead men in front of me.

I turn around expecting to see Indigo gone, somewhere far away and safe with Kazu, but no, the stupid kid decided to stick around and watch the whole thing. The second the last man is dead on the end of my sword Kazu’s off the horse and scrambling over to me, tending to me like a sick kitten. I ward him off, tell him I’m fine, that the wound is superficial and that there’s nothing to worry about, but that doesn’t stop him. He sits me down, makes me take off my armor, and then deals with my wound. He mends it with that magic of his and wraps it as an extra precaution. It seems so over the top and ridiculous but damn it can you hate a guy for caring? It seems like there aren’t enough people like him nowadays.

After that we get back on the horse and ride on, pretending that I didn’t just kill five men. We settle for the night a bit off the main road. Patrols are too much of an issue to just ignore. The last thing we want to do is draw attention to ourselves, especially after today.

Kazu’s been babying me all night. I’m trying my best not to snap at him but it’s getting hard. Kid doesn’t know when to quit.

Year 1140, Month 5, Day 21 Expedition date 27, entry 5

It’s been a while since I’ve killed anything. Probably for the best. We’ve been traveling around a lot. Kazu loves it all. Nature, he’s just totally enthralled by nature. You’d think he’s never seen a flower in his life before, maybe he hasn’t, I don’t know. But he loves everything. We’ll be riding through and pass a deer, and he’ll say “hi” to the deer as if the deer understands what he’s saying. It’s kind of cute all things considered, kind of weird too, though. I guess that’s what happens when you’re raised different than everyone else.

We came across a shrine today. It’d been desecrated by someone, who knows, soldiers probably. It was a shrine to the goddess Lenina, the goddess of nature. Usually her shrine’s are put up to ward off evils in the woods. But this one was knocked over, chipped at the ends, and covered in moss.

Kazu didn’t really seem to know who it was. I guess Venna doesn’t teach her servants about other gods. I know enough though to recognize Lenina’s figure, with her iconic harp, so we pull over to fix the shrine. I’ve had plenty of experience with shrines to know it’s bad business to leave them knocked on their side like that. It’s the first step to bad luck, and I’m not risking it. But while I’m lifting up this wooden shrine all on my own, wiping off the extra growths and patching it up a bit, I’m telling Kazu all about Lenina, because when he wants to know something he gets all doe-eyed about it and will ask you about it constantly until you start talking. He might’ve been a good interrogator once upon a time.

There’s not much of a tale to tell though, not much more than a name and a purpose. Lenina. Goddess of nature, protector of all that is kind and sweet in her domain, the domain of uncivilized land. It’s said that praying to her will reward you in the future, should you find yourself cornered by beasts. It’s said that a man who helps Lenina might find the wolves at his doorstep suddenly pacified, the claws against his throat suddenly removed. It’s believed that pleasing Lenina will bring you safer passage through the thicket of her domain, and so it diesn’t seem like a bad idea to give her a hand.

Kazu is ever interested of course, and ever adamant that I fix the shrine ASAP. But by then I’ve already propped the statue of Lenina back up on her pedestal. I’ve laid flowers at her feet and even upturned a nearly burnt-out candle, lighting it once more in respect. I ask Lenina a prayer, for safe travel, and Kazu does the same. Then we’re back on Indigo and we’re off. Kazu spent much of the rest of the day asking me about Lenina again, as if she was ever an important goddess. As if there was more of her story to tell. There was bound to be of course, but it’s a story I do not know. You wish to know of Adar? You wish to know of his struggles, his bouts of anger and defeat, his humanity? I can tell you of that. But Lenina? I’m not nearly in versed in the goddess of nature.

We have had safe travels. I can only presume that Lenina bid us well.

Year 1140, Month 6, Day 16 Expedition date 52, Entry 6

I must say that I’m surprised we have gotten this far. I never expected Kazu to survive two months, but he has, and admittedly I am grateful. Although at first I found it hard to bare his talkative nature, eventually I learned to appreciate it. It has been awfully long since I met someone so nice to be around. Of course, by now we’ve gotten to known each other a bit better. One of the more surprising revelations that I’ve had is that Kazu is actually older than me.

Just by looking at the two of us it would be hard to say. I’ve mustered the rugged years of a man who has seen the best and the worst of humanity, while Kazu seems to have lived the life in seemingly unbearable solitude. Based on appearance alone most would figure I was older, mostly because Kazu was awfully baby-faced and awfully naive for his age. But when the numbers come down to it Kazu is actually a few years my elder, which means I can’t quite call him a “kid” or a “boy” anymore.

There’s more than just that though. I’ve also learned that he has had just as much of an uneventful life as I expected. He’s learned much yes, but primarily of his own goddess, Venna. His life was indefinitely in a place of solitude at a monastery not far off from where we met, and although he had the company of other priests and sages there was not much more than that. In fact you’d think I was the first man he’d ever met, all things considered.

But of course once the questions about Kazu’s life passed on the questions of my own came along. I’m not ready to tell him everything, not yet. But I suppose that, fifty-two days later, I might as well tell him something. So I told him about the Vigilants of Adar, about the hall of Akkadia and about the rise and fall of my clan. I did not get into the nastiest details, skimmed over the fact that I was turned in because I am a runaway slave, and really just summed up the end as “things went poorly, the hall was burned down by Lotherians, and now I’m here.” Kazu, obviously, had more questions, but I refuse to sate his hunt for knowledge much further. He will just have to wait for his answer.

Year 1140, Month 6, Day 20 Expedition date 56, Entry 7

We came across a battlefield today. Lotherian and Anduvarian soldiers scattered about an open, dirt field. It was a cluttered mess. Swords, shields, axes, maces, lances, spears. Helmets, tunics, chest plates, arm guards. Heads, arms, legs, feet. It was a massacre.

Kazu didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want him to see it either. I was just going to steer us away but then we heard someone groaning, moaning. Immediately Kazu was up and off the horse, running to find the person, calling out for them, begging them to speak up. I thought he’d gone mad. I left Indigo and then went off after him, trying to pull him back. That battlefield was riddled with all sorts of things, and I didn’t want him getting hurt. But he was adamant. He searched until he found the man, a wounded soldier. I don’t think Kazu even bothered to look at his colors. I don’t think he thought twice. He just saw the man and he immediately started helping him, healing him. He told me to get food and water so I went and got food and water.

We patched the man up, helped him out. Dragged him out of that hellhole and over to the grassy part of the field. He laid there for a moment, breathless, exhausted. When he had the strength to eat and drink on his own he thanked us, asked the gods to bless up, told us his name was “Kirby” and said that, thanks to us, he’d be able to return to his wife and his daughter again. Kazu gave him some food, I told him which direction to walk in, and when the man had enough strength to do so he was off.

He was Lotherian too.

I don’t know if Kazu understands the conflict at hand here. I don’t know if he understands that the Lotherians hate mages, that this whole war started because they want to eradicate magic, that they want to dispel these “demonic” natures to purge the land, to free the souls of the damned, to cleanse the soil of which we stand on. I don’t think he understands that any other Lotherian man would have spat in his face, stomped on his boots, and maybe even made an attempt on his life.

But I think maybe Kazu knows, and just doesn’t care.

Year 1140, Month 6, Day 31 Expedition date 67, Entry 8

We came upon a village today. The first we’ve seen in months, it’s a miracle we’ve done as well as we have. Some days I think we won’t have any food, some days I think we might have to eat Indigo. I never would, of course, but I wonder. It’s on those days that I bare my teeth and go hunt with that crossbow of mine, the stupid thing that only wants to work half the time. But I go out and do it anyway, because I know if we don’t then Kazu and I will starve and I just can’t let that happen.

So seeing a village was a blessing. It would give us the opportunity to replenish our supplies and brace for another hard trip into the wilderness.

When we arrived, the village bore an unfamiliar flag. Particularly, it was Dorelian. Which means at some point we must’ve crossed the border over. It’s a comforting thought. Doreli isn’t all too involved in the war, they don’t hold much of the sentiments of either side and don’t intend to get involved. They prefer to keep to themselves, and I can respect that. Plus, it makes things much easier for Kazu and I. We don’t need to worry about being jumped for whatever reason, be it he’s a mage or I’m a slave.

The village is small, modest. The villagers look to us curiously but otherwise do not give us a second glance. They are busy, the fall is nearing, winter will come soon, and there’s lots of harvesting to be done and crops to be dealt with. Two wandering faces arriving out of nowhere doesn’t seem to interested them all too much.

There’s an inn atop a tavern and a small warehouse where they store all the wheat. We make our way to the inn after I drop Indigo off in the stables. We head in and there’s a barkeep hunched over at the counter. He straightens up the instant he sees us -- I guess he doesn’t get many new faces out here -- and immediately he’s talking us up, offering us drinks. I gave Kazu a handful of coins that I’d had left over and tell him to get some food. Then I take the rest of our money and get a room for the night. Next comes the hard part, because I knew things wouldn’t be easy forever, and I needed to start making us money eventually. I walk up to the innkeep, who’s on the other end of the room, and ask him if there’s any contracts out.

The innkeep tells me that the local lord has a bounty on a nearby group of bandits. Anyone who can bring him their leader’s head will get a fair amount of coin. I ask how much, and he tells me enough to pique my interest. It sounds like a job, not the easiest one in the world, but a doable one. I’ve killed enough men to take on a handful, and the money will get us through the next two months.

I get the room key, head up and drop our things off. Then I give the key to Kazu, telling him explicitly to keep it on hand because it’s the only one around and I don’t intend to ever bust down our inn room door unless it’s an absolute emergency (and I can only pray that such an emergency will never arise). He looked to me, confused, and I tell him I have to disappear for a day. His confusion turned to concern and he started asking me a bunch of questions. I quell his fears, assure him I’m just heading out on a job, that I’m doing with vigilants do, and then I handed him the rest of my coin before heading off. I don’t know what his expression is like when I leave and frankly I don’t want to know. It would’ve just hurt more to see him like that than to not see him at all.

I don’t know the last time I’ve ever cared about someone so much. It’s stupid, I know, Kazu’s just a sage who I’ve hardly been in the acquaintance of for more than two months. And he does stupid little things all the time that get on my nerves, like asking too many questions, or throwing himself into danger when it isn’t necessary. But he does other things too, endearing things, that keep me around even when it doesn’t seem worth it anymore. He isn’t paying me much at all, in fact I’m sure he’s coming down to his last coins very soon. And this isn’t like a usual vigilant job, it isn’t like I’m going to be making hundreds off of a kill. I’m just taking Kazu around the world, and letting him experience it for the first time. And honestly... it’s nice. It feels better than a vigilant job. I just don’t know why.

Year 1140, Month 7, Day 2 Expedition date 69, Entry 9

Kazu will be happy to know that I am not dead. I had gone this morning and tracked down the bandits. I went and I slaughtered them all. They hardly stood a chance against me, and I think they started to realize that midway through, but by then it was too late. I killed them all, except for a few stragglers who managed to slip away. It didn’t matter though, the bunch had been dispersed and their leader lay dead, so that would satisfy the local lord.

I looted the place, beheaded the leader, and then rode on Indigo to the lord’s keep, where I presented the head and was given my sum of my reward. I’m glad Kazu didn’t come, he didn’t have to see me like that.

While in town I looked around a bit. The keep didn’t have too much to offer, but there was a merchant there selling a few things. I bought a book -- Kazu said he could read, so I figured he’d appreciate something to keep him entertained -- some rations and fresh water, and a new whetstone for my sword. I also dropped by the blacksmith, and had made enough gold from the job that I was able to get my entire set of armor repaired, sword included. It was nice, refreshing even, to have newly restored attire. It also gave me a little more comfort knowing that anything short of a lucky sword slit or stab wouldn’t manage to kill me.

Tonight I will head back to Kazu. I can only hope that he is still in one piece. The village life can be so cruel, especially to one so unacquainted.

Year 1140, Month 7, Day 3 Expedition date 70, Entry 10

I returned today to opened arms. It’s been a while since I’ve had such an honor. When I arrived at the inn Kazu was at the bar, talking to the barkeep. From what I understand that’s where he’s spent most of his time since arriving. Apparently the bar keep has plenty of stories, and he has just as many from our recent endeavors. But when I walk in, as rugged as I usually am, Kazu practically jumps out of his seat. He runs over to me and hugs me and I almost fall right over.

He starts babbling and I just muster a pat on the back as he talks about all that he’s done since I’ve been gone and about how much he was worried. I manage to quiet him by shoving the book in his arms. He looks down at it -- it’s a thick read -- and scans the cover. I tell him that I’d bought it while out on the job and thought he’d like it.

Immediately he’s back to hugging me, and although he makes some passing remark about how sages don’t believe in materialistic ideals I think overall he appreciated it. And after I show him the gold I think even he could be happy about a job well done, because the money meant we’d have not just food and water, but more time to go off and explore the world. Right now that seems like the one thing he wants to do most, so who am I to say no? I could always leave, of course, but it’s not like I have anywhere else to go. I might as well stay and enjoy myself

We’ll stay a few more nights then head off once we’re tired of sitting around. Besides, it’s not like us to stay in one place long.

Year 1140, Month 7, Day 8 Expedition date 75, Entry 11

We’ve left the village, but the few days we’ve spent there have been a time of reflection for me. There are many things that I’ve thought about, and many more things that I’ve considered, and honestly it’s hard to compose them all in one entry but I’ll try my best.

First, the matter of exploration. I think I’d already thought about this in the past, namely when I was stuck in that tavern trying futility to get drunk and wasting my money away. But now I’m sure of it, as these past few days in the village have been particularly dull. I’ve spent most of them in Kazu’s company in the inn, and while it’s nice to have a soft bed and warm food it’s hardly worth staying in one place for so long. I’m simply restless. I cannot begin to comprehend spending my life in one place for such an extended period of time, as a mere five days was more than unbearable to me.

It was different when I was a vigilant. Yes, I always returned to Akkadia, but otherwise I was traveling, heading from place to place to take contracts, slay beasts, turn in contracts, then move onto the next. It was an active life, and I easily became accustomed to such a life. Which makes settling down seem impossible, for me at least. I cannot see the benefit of sitting around and talking to Kazu when I could very well do the same but on the road, in the wilderness, off in nature where we can explore and enjoy ourselves in the natural world. Kazu seems happier that way, and I am too.

Then there’s the topic of Kazu.

I don’t even know where to begin with writing my feelings down on this. They’re weird, confusing. At first I thought they were a mere protective nature that I’d developed as his bodyguard, a general protectiveness that anyone should wish to have when in a position such as my own. It makes you better at your job, at least I’d like to think, and it leaves you with a happier employer. But... I don’t think that’s what’s happening in my case. I’ve never really looked to Kazu as an employer, not in the same way I look at a lord when he offers me coin in exchange for the head of a cockatrice or a nymph. Kazu just never gave off that demeanor. He was more of a friend if anything, someone to trust and cherish, but protect all the same.

Then again, I never really thought of him as much of a friend either. I was in a sort of limbo for a while. I never considered him close enough to deem a friend, but not distant enough to merely look at as an employee. I felt differently about him, but my vocabulary never managed to do it justice, and now things have changed. I feel different about him.

I think I’ve taken a liking to Kazu, and not in the friendly way either. I know I’ve always been interested in men, there’d been Brandon back in the academy, when I first started my training as a vigilant, but that hadn’t lasted and afterwards he was transferred elsewhere, so frankly it was never meant to last. After that I’d mostly been with women, but after Melissa broke my heart I’d left the dating game for a while. Things were quiet in that regard, a good bit thanks to the fact that things were starting to heat up in the war and the Burning of Akkadia was not too far away. I hadn’t thought about getting into a relationship for a while.

But then I met Kazu, and although at first I didn’t feel particularly interested in him, I think that’s changed. Being around him all the time might’ve had something to do with that.

I realized this just last night in fact. We were in our room, resting up one more time before heading out for travel. He was in a chair, reading that book I’d gotten him, and I was lingering by the window, watching the moon rise with the stars. Then it struck me suddenly that, at some point, my gaze had shifted from the stars to Kazu. Suddenly I had started admiring his eyes and his brow, and his lips. And the second I realized it I snapped myself out of it. Shameful! I thought. But then it struck me that this wasn’t the first time I’d caught myself staring. A few times I’d done the very same thing, mostly after we’d set up camp and he would linger about before going to sleep. I would stare at him, observe him, and while at first I’d dubbed myself a creep and tried to divert my attention, I quickly realized that my actions were not without cause. That perhaps I was doing such things but I was... attracted to him?

Now mind you that I didn’t conclude this until last night and by then I was so tired that I figured myself in a fit of sleeplessness and shortly went to bed. But I awoke this morning and realized that my feelings still remained, that perhaps my protectiveness hadn’t been simply a manner of professionalism, but the fact that I had found someone whom interested me, and my mind was subconsciously telling me so. It would seem that my head knew before the rest of my body did.

I’m not sure what to make of this revelation. I’m nervous, admittedly. I don’t want this to get between Kazu and I. But I feel that it’s necessary that I tell him eventually. It would be for the best. Perhaps I will do so when we’re sitting comfortably in a large city, to the point where I could give him enough money for another bodyguard should he decide to terminate my contract. I will hold onto the hope that he will not get rid of me, but I cannot be so sure. The world is a cruel place. It’s hard to say if he’ll ever except me for who I am. But there’s only one way to find out.

Year 1140, Month 7, Day 28 Expedition date 95, Entry 12

We had a close call. Too close. We were going through the woods and knew well enough that there were wolves prowling about, but I figured they’d stay away if we yelled at them enough to keep off. It worked the first couple of times but eventually those fuckers got sneaky. We’d stopped for a break and then just like that they came out of nowhere. One of them snatched my heel and when I reached to grab my sword another one lunged up at me. I only managed to just barely protect my throat, but I nearly lost my finger in the process.

Indigo panicked and ran away. Kazu was trapped between a tree and a few very angry wolves. I quickly realized that if I didn’t do something soon then we were as good as dead. I had to fight through the pain to grab my sword but I wasn’t going to let these stupid mutts eat Kazu alive, so with blood coating my grip I started stabbing away at the wolves. The one on my heel backed off after a good kick to the nose, and the one going for my throat backed away after I stabbed it in the leg. Another jumped up on me but I swatted it away. It became apparent at that point that we were surrounded but I wasn’t backing down. I couldn’t.

I knew well enough that by taking out the big dog the rest would run off, so I immediately started looking for the alpha. It took a moment before I found him -- he was sizing up Kazu around the time I got to him. I went to stab at it but at that point the blood coated my hand so severely that keeping a grip on my sword was impossible, so instead I went for plan B. I tackled the wolf to the ground and slammed its head into the dirt. I felt a few more bites along my back but I ignored them as I wrestled the biggest wolf of the bunch. The alpha wouldn’t back off until I shoved my hand down its throat, and at that point it realized it was out matched. Retreating with an awful gag, the wolf ran off and with it went the rest of the pack, save the two that I’d already butchered.

At that point my back was bit up, my heel was blooded, and it was hard to tell if I still had all my fingers. Kazu, after snapping out of his initial shock, immediately tended to me, both scared out of his wits and thankful to be alive. I was just as thankful, and after he patched me up we went to go track down Indigo.

It was at that point that I decided I needed to tell him.

I’d spent the last twenty days debating it. Of course my initial plan had been to get somewhere where we could go our separate ways with ease but with the realization of my infatuation came an even more intense interest. It was plaguing my life to be frank, as every time I looked at him I was reminded of my attraction. My heart would skip, my breath would hitch. I would pray that he didn’t notice and move on. But now, in the instance that I nearly died, I decided it had to be done. Even if he rejected me, even if it was all pointless, I needed to tell him before I lost the chance to ever do so. Those wolves actually opened my eyes.

While we searched for Indigo I had quietly picked a handful of flowers. There were a fair amount of white and purple lilies scattered about, so I went and picked them into a nice little bouquet. When I had quite enough in my hand I kept them hidden behind my back until we’d found the horse. I think Kazu might have noticed at some point, but he never questioned me, so I presumed that I had the element of surprise. And so, when we finally found my trusty stead not too far away, I pulled out the flowers and told him.

I poured my heart out to him, more or less. My whole speech is hard to recall word-for-word, but I can at least say that I told him how I felt. I told him that I’d started to notice how absolutely beautiful he was, and how much I’d learned to love his voice. I told him about how much I adored his company, about how I cherished every single day we had together. I told him about how every time I looked to the stars I was reminded of his eyes, and how every time I heard the melody of a harp I was reminded of his laugh, in the same way one would be reminded of the songs of the gods. I told him that I had kicked myself for waiting so long to tell him, that I felt foolish for ever hesitating, for ever doubting. I told him that I would love to take his hand, and if not then I would at least appreciate the fact that I ever got to tell him in the first place.

I told him all these things breathlessly. I told him them as if I’d only have seconds to do so, and to be honest the entire time my heart was pounding. One might have thought that I was fighting a great monstrosity with how fast my heart was pounding, but no. I was just thinking about him.

And then when my speech was said and done and I held out the flowers, my eyes fell to the floor. I felt shame. It was as if it had all come crashing down on my head suddenly, as if the realization had hit that I just admitted I loved another man, as if it all became strikingly apparent that I was a freak by society’s standard. I could only imagine what that meant to a sage, to Kazu, someone who was so pure and so innocent being vilified by a creature so despicable. For a second I honestly felt like a monster. Then... he started laughing.

I thought he was laughing at me but I quickly realized that it wasn’t laughing so much as it was giggling, and his face was a hot pink. It’s then that he told me that my ears were lit up a fiery red, and upon telling me my own blush only grew worse. He took the flowers happily and hugged me, and I don’t know I guess somewhere along the lines he had realized he felt the same? The whole thing is a blur, if I’m being honest it felt like a dream. My heart was pounding a mile a minute, and at one point it seemed as if I’d gone deaf. But... I hadn’t.

I’m just in love.

Year 1140, Month 8, Day 13 Expedition date 110, Entry 13

It’s been about two weeks since I told Kazu how I felt about him. Things have only gotten better it seems. We started slow, more-so for Kazu’s sake than my own, but once we started getting comfortable we tried being a bit more... intimate. I enjoy kissing him most of all, even just occasionally. Sometimes when we wake up I will lean over and kiss him, and he’ll laugh and kiss me back. Sometimes after a long day of travel I’ll want nothing more than to pull him into a hug and kiss him all over. I control myself of course, but sometimes it can be hard. I want to cherish him more than anything, especially since it’s been so long since I’ve been given such an opportunity.

My favorite time is whenever Kazu goes out of his way to kiss me himself. He’ll run up and plant a peck on my cheeks or sometimes my lips. It’s always adorable, because he’ll try to pull me down to keep me close, and of course I’ll let him.

I’m glad that things are working out so well between us. It seems that my previous concerns were all for naught. His interest in me was just as intense as my interest in him. I can hope for nothing more than our continued relationship, and it seems that the outdoors benefits us with such an opportunity. We do not need to fear being walked-in on while out in the woods, and even if we did who would believe such a sight? We are on our own entirely, and it’s a benefit of nature that we could have never foreseen. I love it, wholeheartedly, just as I love him.

Year 1140, Month 9, Day 1 Expedition Date 127, Entry 14

We arrived at a city today for the first time in a while. It’s been another month and it seemed foolish to pass up dropping by and resupplying, so we made our way over. From the looks of it we’re still in Doreli, so things are still safe. After we took Indigo to a stable, Kazu and I ventured the city. We found a nice inn, much nicer than the first (and more expensive) to stay a few nights in. There’s also another job but I’ll wait until tomorrow to worry about that. I need to make sure Kazu’s settled in first and foremost.

Since we arrived at the city so early in the day we decided to walk around a bit. I met a blacksmith who agreed to repair my gear and re-shoe Indigo, and after that I walked Kazu down to the marketplace where there were an array of goods to choose from. It was by far the most extravagant of the marketplaces we’ve had the opportunity to see thus far, and that seemed apparent in Kazu’s blatant awe. There were so many things to look at, so many things to choose from, it seemed pointless to only pick a few, but they only had so much money to barter.

It became clear, though, what we were getting the second it walked up to us. A little pseudodragon seemed absolutely drawn to Kazu. It came up to him on its own in fact, and right away you could tell that it had won Kazu’s heart over, because his eyes simply glowed. A moment later we found out that the creature belonged to a merchant, and that for a fair sum we could have it (although I soon learned it was actually a her). Kazu begged me, although that wasn’t particularly necessary, as he could have simply asked and I would have never had the mind to say no.

So we bought the little dragon and Kazu promptly named her Chamomile. I never would have considered such a name, but I love it nonetheless. I can only hope that this little dragon won’t prove too troublesome on our endeavors.

As a slight side note, we ran down to the stables to introduce Chamomile to Indigo. It seems the two get along enough, as at the very least they don’t hate each other. That’s a better sign than none.

Also I very quickly learned that little Chamomile loves to do one thing in particular, and that’s puff balls of fire. Adorable maybe, but also painful. I’ve already been damned quite a few times by that thing simply because it loves to scorch my skin. Thankfully, Kazu is kind enough to mend my wounds whenever it is necessary. It is necessary a lot, evidently.

Year 1140, Month 9, Day 17 Expedition Date 143, Entry 15

We finally left the city today. As I’ve already said it’s hard for me to stay in one place for very long, and although we stayed here longer than I had hoped it was at least slightly more bearable with Kazu as company. I took up two contracts while here, one to wipe out a nest of corpse eaters and another to slay a werewolf. Both weren’t particularly easy, or bearable, but I did it for the sake of Kazu and I. The coin was good and so it keeps us afloat.

The last few days were nice. I became well acquainted with the blacksmith in town, who work on my armor a few times, namely when I arrived and after both of my contracts. He was a kind man, I appreciated his company well enough. He was one of the few people I spoke with aside from Kazu while in town.

We spent a bit of time in the marketplace, perhaps more than was necessary, but after finding Chamomile Kazu was adamant on looking for any other little creatures we keep. We found none, but we did learn that Chamomile loves to push over random objects. She pushed over a vase on a merchant’ stand and we ended up paying for its broken bits. Lesson learned for sure, I’ll need to make sure it doesn’t happen again (me specifically, because Kazu didn’t seem bothered about it in the slightest. Something about materialistic ideals being false and all that. I don’t care what he thinks, as long as it doesn’t end up being too expensive).

But now we’re on the road again, regardless. I’m not sure where the path will take us now, but I hope it will take us the right way, wherever that may be.

It’s me, Kazu, Indigo and Chamomile now. And life’s never been better.

#drabble;

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robinhoodrevisited · 7 years

Text

Ascension Day (pt.5)

Powis Castle. Dungeons. (Titus opens the door and descends the steps that lead into the dungeons below.) Cut To: (Waleran is knelt naked praying before a large cross that has been brought in for him.) Waleran: "Tuck in power, Kingsbridge lost to me. Ever your patient General, Lord God when will I see our victory? Look what I have done for you. God, why has thou forsaken me?" (Titus enters the cell and looks upon the broken man before him.) Titus: "Look what you've become, Bishop. Powerless, pitiful. Perhaps I should just put you out of your misery. (Suddenly grabbing Waleran by the throat:) Make no mistake, Bishop, if you name me as your accomplice in your deeds I will end your life." Waleran: (Smiles:) "What makes you think they don't already know? How else would I have been able to send Vaisey's army to attack so soon after his death? Once the Commander and the Princess have enough time to think about it, the only conclusion they will draw is that they have a mole in their midst." Titus: (Releases Waleran and growls in frustration:) "I brought the Commander and the Prince together to forge a treaty to end the violence." Waleran: "Yes, just as you attempted to do years ago with the last Commander." Titus: "The treaty would have held if not for the girl." Waleran: "Would it? You must've known that sooner or later Lexa would take her revenge on Vaisey for the murder of her mate. No, your treaty was doomed to fail from the start." Lexa: "The Commander has followed her heart over her head once again, just as with Costia." Waleran: "And it appears the Princess is having quite the effect on her too." Titus: "Blood must not have blood is a mistake." Waleran: "Then it is up to you to change the Commander's mind before it's too late." Titus: "And how do I do that?" Waleran: "That, flamekeeper, is entirely in your hands."

Powis Castle. The Great Hall. Morning. (Lexa sits on her throne in the Great Hall addressing her subjects.) Lexa: "We gather here on this Ascension day, to honour the Commanders that came before me. Those who live on within me... (She turns toward her novitiates:) As I will live on in one of you." (Suddenly there is a commotion and the doors to the Great Hall spring open.) Semet: (Entering the room:) "The flamekeeper promised we would be heard!" Lexa: (Looks to the man beside her:) "Titus, what is this?" Titus: (Turns and leans closely to Lexa:) "Something you need to hear, Heda." (Lexa blinks then turns back to the intruders, bracing herself for what's to follow. Semet and his group slowly kneel before the Commander as Robin, Marian, Gisborne and Allan are pulled into view. Clarke gasps and steps forward as Marian is thrown unceremoniously to the ground.)

Clarke: (Shocked:) "Marian." Semet: (To Lexa:) "Forgive me for intruding on this holy day, Commander. (Getting to his feet:) I am Semet and I come seeking justice." (Marian and the others look toward the Commander.) Lexa: "Explain yourself. Why do you hold members of the thirteenth clan prisoner?" Semet: "They are prisoners of war, Commander, brought here to bear witness to the crimes of their people." Clarke: (Stepping forward:) "What crimes? (Turns to the dais:) We've settled this." Titus: "Apparently not. These people and their village have been left defenseless because of the massacre." Semet: "Please, Commander. I beg you. Avenge us." (As everyone looks to the Commander, Indra steps out from the crowd and eyes each of the prisoners in turn before disappearing once again. The gathered crowd begin to chant 'Blood must have blood' at the Commander and Lexa glares at Titus.) Titus: (To the unruly mob:) "You will show respect in this chamber!"

Cut To: The Commander's Chamber. (Lexa bursts through the doors of her chamber raving at Titus who follows behind along with Clarke.) Lexa: "How dare you bring this to me on Ascension day?!" Titus: "I did not bring them here, Heda. (Lexa turns towards him:) You did. Against my advice, you made Nottingham and its people the thirteenth clan. (Points at Clarke:) You rejected the treaty with Prince John in favour of the Princess. Then, after your warriors are slaughtered, you postpone vengeance upon the perpetrators in favour of sending members of the thirteenth clan to find the man who gave the order. And now, after all this, you allow Waleran to live. Your people still desire vengeance, 'blood must not have blood' has failed." (Lexa glares at her mentor as Clarke glances at the robed man herself.) Lexa: (Walking towards her:) "Clarke?" Titus: "Clarke's opinion in this matter is not exactly unbiased." (Clarke and Titus share a look before Clarke answers.) Clarke: "Titus is right. My people need Waleran alive in order to remove my Uncle from his position of power, you know this. You chose to side with me for a reason, you know the Prince must be stopped." Titus: "Not at the expense of our coalition. Heda, your people are revolting against you, the alliance is fragile at this moment. If you do not act now-" (Lexa holds up her hand and Titus is silenced.)

Cut Back To: The Great Hall. (Lexa holds her hand up for silence. Once the noise dies down, she makes her decision.) Lexa: "Today I call upon the armies of the twelve clans not to attack. The Princess and her people need time to take out their leaders and ensure travesties like the massacre of our warriors never happen again." (Lexa looks to Titus who is deeply unhappy about this but reiterates the order regardless.) Titus: "You heard the Commander. The armies of the twelve clans shall stand down until further notice." Semet: "Heda, I do not understand. How is this vengeance?" Lexa: "It is not vengeance, my brother. It is justice." Semet: "Their people killed my son! And my brother, and my wife! (Turns to the room at large:) Now if the spirit of the Commander will not protect us then what will?!" Titus: "You mind yourself, Semet." Semet: (Sighs and turns his back:) "Death to the Commander!" (Semet draws a knife from his belt and charges at Lexa. Titus steps in front of her, grabs the knife from Semet and turns it against him. Slicing his stomach, chest and throat in quick succession. Semet barely has time to register the blows before Titus finishes him with a final thrust of the blade. Gasps of shock reverberate through the hall as Semet falls to the floor, dead. Semet's followers crowd around him as Robin and the others look to each other in shock.) Titus: (Turning to Lexa, softly:) "Blood must have blood." (Lexa stares at her mentor as the blood drips from the blade onto the dais.)

Powis. Indra's Hut. (Djaq is checking on Indra to see how her arm is progressing.) Djaq: "You have to give it time, Indra. Your arm needs to heal itself fully." Indra: "I need to regain the strength I've lost in it. I need to pick up my sword and begin training." Djaq: "If you try to spar with anyone using that arm you only damage it further. I know it's frustrating but please, just allow yourself to recuperate." (As Indra looks away a shadow blocks the sun for a moment. As Djaq's eyes adjust she can see the woman standing there.) Octavia: (To Indra's back:) "I came to honour you." (Indra tenses at the sound of her voice then shakes her head.) Indra: "You waste your time. There's no honor here." Djaq: (Sensing their need to talk alone, to Indra:) "I'll check in on you again later, Indra." (Djaq gathers her things, nods to Octavia then leaves the hut.) Octavia: (Stepping inside:) "I need your council, Master Indra." Indra: (Getting to her feet quickly, her back still facing Octavia:) "Go away." (Indra takes a drink as Octavia moves closer to her mentor.) Octavia: "I need the woman I served as second. I need the warrior who taught me to be who I am." Indra: (Spinning around to face her:) "I said get out of here!" (Turning her back upon Octavia once again:) Octavia: "Indra, please. I know the men who did this to you. I've come here for your help to defeat them." (Suddenly Indra spins and punches Octavia. Octavia rallies and tackles Indra to the ground, holding her fist up ready to strike.) Indra: "You see?! Even someone as slow and as weak as you can put me on my back. I should have died on that field." Octavia: "We all die. You can either do that here, feeling sorry for yourself or you come back with me and get your revenge. (Indra cannot look at her. Octavia stands and walks toward the hut entrance. Standing at the opening:) The choice is yours." (She leaves.)

Powis Castle. Clarke's Chamber. (Robin and the others are all gathered in Clarke's chamber. Clarke is sat perched on her bed as Robin makes the case for them to leave.) Robin: "It's time, Clarke. We have to head back to Nottingham and put a stop to Prince John's schemes." Clarke: "I know, you're right. But we still don't know where the men who attacked Lexa's people are. I can't leave here without giving Lexa a way to appease her people." Robin: "We can't afford to travel the length of the country searching for an army." Marian: "An army that are masters at blending in and disappearing. (Stepping closer to Clarke:) We need you with us, Princess. Once Prince John steps down, England will need -" Gisborne: (Cutting in:) "You really think the Prince will just step down? He's waited his entire life to become King and now he's the closest he's ever come to it. He's not leaving without a fight." Robin: "Which is why we need to act quickly. We have the Bishop, we have the pact and we have the Princess. If John refuses to step aside we can still turn the Barons against him. Geoffrey should be ruling England right now in the King's absence. The only reason he's not is because John colluded to have his brother killed. The pact shows that John is willing, if not eager, to commit Fratricide once again to get what he wants." Clarke: (Stands:) "I'll speak to Lexa, but I stand by what I said. We cannot leave here without viable information about the whereabouts of that army." Marian: "We'll speak to Waleran. We'll make sure he knows that giving up the army is part of the deal." Cut To: Castle Dungeons. (Waleran is seated, his hands tied to a chair. Behind him, Titus kneels praying. The robed man bows his head then stands and walks to stand in front of the Bishop.) Titus: "I have tried to guide the Commander the best way I know how. I have kept her strong throughout her reign. But Lexa's refusal to act is turning her people against her. The Commander is so concerned with her alliance with Clarke and the thirteenth clan that she's neglecting the other twelve." Waleran: "That's because she believes she has choices. If you limit the Commander's options she will soon see things your way again. But if things continue in the way the Princess desires then your influence will surely be lost for good." Titus: "Clarke cannot take the throne." Waleran: (Shakes his head:) "And I cannot be brought to testify against the Prince. You know what you must do my son. For the sake of the Commander and all that she’s built." Titus: (Softly:) "For the Commander." (Waleran nods as Titus slowly brings his hands toward the bound man's throat.) Waleran: "Ergo te absolvo." (Titus closes his hands around Waleran's throat and begins to squeeze.)

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