#LTW: closed doors
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He doesn’t know how to do this. He’s been scared for her life before, he’s seen her pale and unmoving in a hospital bed with a machine breathing for her, but he’s never had to see her covered in a sheet on the cold, unfeeling metal of a morgue slab.
OR
Wetwired: marriage of convenience style.
read closed doors on ao3, or below the cut!
Mulder’s shaking. He struggles to hit the correct button to hang up the phone.
Dead. Scully’s dead.
“What happened?” Frohike asks from behind him.
“Maryland State Police.” He tries to keep the shake, the fear, out of his voice. “They think they've found Scully.”
“Is she okay?”
“No, um... they think maybe I should come down and I.D. the body.” He chokes on the last word, and closes the door behind him before his friends can react.
Mulder doesn’t remember the drive to the county morgue. When he parks, he’s still trying to hold back his tears, his grief. This isn’t right.
What is he supposed to do? She can’t leave him a widower, once again partnerless within the FBI, chasing her ghost through the X Files. It’s not right.
He’s hazy through a confrontation with his source, letting the anger at the injustice fuel him. He yells, and it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care. If Scully’s gone, then what’s the damn point. They’ve already gotten away with it.
He kicks the door of the man’s car, and goes inside to identify his wife’s body.
He doesn’t know how to do this. He’s been scared for her life before, he’s seen her pale and unmoving in a hospital bed with a machine breathing for her, but he’s never had to see her covered in a sheet on the cold, unfeeling metal slab of a morgue tray.
But it’s not her. It’s not Scully. There are no words for the relief he feels at seeing another woman through the slats of the blinds. He almost collapses right there, the tension of mourning fleeing his body. Scully is still Schrodinger’s cat, both alive and dead as long as she remains unseen. Though the dead woman is still somebody’s loved one, she is not his wife.
“It’s not her. Somebody has to call her mother.”
“We already tried.” The coroner says, “We weren't able to reach her.”
“She's not answering her phone?”
Just like that, Mulder knows where Scully is.
***
Mulder knows that he has a pretty good relationship with the woman who is technically his mother-in-law. It helps that Maggie is one of the most kindhearted and likable women he’s met, and that she doesn’t know he’s married to her daughter.
As a result, Maggie has never, ever, told Mulder to go away. Not on the days when Scully was missing that she couldn't stop crying, not when Mulder showed up shaking and swaying on her doorstep. Never. She had always offered that motherly, soft smile and opened the door with a “Come on in, Fox,” and scolded him when he tried to address her formally.
This time, when he casts his shadow across her doorstep, frantically knocking and peeking in the windows, she tries to close it in his face. She makes no comment on her name.
He pushes past her with a half-hearted apology. He needs to see Scully, to wipe away the mental image of another redheaded woman on a metal slab, laid out and labeled potentially with his wife’s name.
Mulder sees Scully’s gun before he sees her. Her weapon leads her from around the corner, and it is immediately trained on Mulder’s figure. Instead of tensing up at the threat, Mulder relaxes. She’s alive, she’s upright, she’s breathing.
He knows she won’t hesitate to shoot, hell, she’s already shot him once, but he’s not scared. Not for himself, at least. For Scully, out of her mind from too much TV, yes. For Maggie, who Mulder is trying his best to keep behind him in case Scully does fire her weapon, yes. But he’s not scared for himself. Even if Scully shot him now, straight to the heart and he bled out in seconds, the pain wouldn’t compare to the half an hour this evening when he thought she was dead. Nothing can hold a candle to the horror that had sunk into his bones.
“You’re in on it. You’re one of them.You’re one of the people who abducted me. You put that thing in my neck! You killed my sister!”
The accusation stings. There’s always been a part of Mulder, buried deep in a chasm of guilt over Samantha and everything else, that has felt responsible for Melissa’s death. If he had never dragged Scully into the conspiracy shrouded corners of the world, her sister might still be alive. So maybe Scully’s right, in a twisted way; maybe he did kill her sister.
“That’s not true, Dana.” Maggie steps out in front of Mulder’s human shield.
“It is! He’s been manipulating me since day one. He even m–” she removes a hand from her gun and presses it to her mouth to keep in a sob. Mulder can fill in the rest of the sentence. He even married me to manipulate me. His heart breaks.
“I want you to listen to me.”
“Mom, just get out of the way!” Scully sobs. Her gun shakes in her single hand.
“You trust me, don’t you? You know that I would never hurt you? That I would never let anybody hurt you. That’s why you came here, isn't it? You’re safe here. Put the gun down, Dana.” Maggie steps closer as Scully’s gun retreats to the ceiling, her arms folding to her chest. “Put it down.”
Finally, Scully lets herself crumble in her mother’s arms, dropping like a puppet with her strings cut and sobbing, sobbing, sobbing like he’s never seen her do before. She doesn’t let go of the gun.
Mulder steps closer on light feet, approaching to release the weapon from Scully’s chokehold. Unfortunately, he hits a creak in the floorboards.
“No!” She screams and lifts the gun to him again.
“Scully, please.” Mulder begs, his voice cracking. “Please let me help you.”
“It’s okay, Dana. Fox loves you, he’s not here to hurt you. It’s okay.”
Mulder stays across the room. “Do you two want to get into your car to go to the hospital, and I can follow?” he asks Maggie. She nods. “Okay. Scully, would you hand the gun to your mom, please?”
Maggie puts enough space between their bodies for her to receive it, then holds it out to Mulder, who finally approaches to retrieve the weapon. He clicks the safety back on, removes the magazine, and places them in separate places around the living room. He does the same with his own, and helps Maggie lift a still-limp Scully upright.
“I’ll go grab my keys, Dana, you’re safe with Fox, okay?”
Scully, leaning most of her body weight on Mulder and completely out of it, makes a vague sound of agreement. While Maggie is out of the room, Scully shifts to lean her head on Mulder’s chest. He rests his right hand on the back of her neck, running a finger along the two chains that lay there: her cross necklace from her mother, and her wedding ring necklace from him.
The wedding ring that Maggie doesn’t know exists. Shit.
“Scully, I’m going to take your necklace, okay?” He whispers, “So your mom doesn’t see.”
Scully lets out a little whine from the back of her throat and nods slightly. Mulder’s fingers fumble at the clasp, and he manages to slide it into his pocket half a second before Maggie reenters the room.
***
Mulder puts his hands up as he enters Scully’s hospital room tentatively, trying and failing to make a joke of the situation. Maggie, thankfully understanding their need to talk in private, exists as Mulder enters.
“How are you feeling?” He asks, taking a seat beside Scully’s hospital bed. He scoots the chair closer in before grabbing her hand in his, and lifting the other to brush her hair from her face.
“Ashamed,” she confesses. “I was so sure, Mulder. I saw things, and I heard things… it was just like the world was turned upside down. Everybody was out to get me.”
“Now you know how I feel most of the time.” Mulder tries to lighten the mood, to make her feel less… guilty, if Mulder is reading her right. It doesn’t seem to work.
“I thought you were going to kill me.” It comes out as a whisper, as another confession.
“I'm not surprised.” He leans toward her, and explains the common link between the victims and their hallucinations, turning their worst-case-scenario anxieties into a reality in their eyes.
“Like me thinking that you'd betray me.” Scully offers in understanding, “I was so far gone, Mulder, I thought that you had gone to the other side.”
She tells him what she had seen, him conferring with the Smoking Man in the parking lot, selling their secrets. She doesn’t tell him about seeing a smudge of lipstick on his collar, or the scent of an unfamiliar perfume in their motel room. For the sake of her own sanity, those shall remain unmentioned and she will just accept that they, too, were hallucinations induced by the recorded television programs.
Mulder considers the Smoking Man for a moment, formulating a theory as to who was behind the induced mania.
“Why don't you try to get some rest?” He says, and rises to leave the room. Before he crosses the threshold, he remembers half his reason for coming by. “Oh!” He turns towards her, and fumbles with the pockets of his coat “I almost forgot.” He pulls out a familiar chair, with an even more familiar ring dangling at the bottom.
Scully smiles softly and holds her hand out for Mulder to drop her wedding ring into. “Thank you, Mulder.”
“I… let your mom take the lead, with the hospital. She still doesn’t know.” He says quietly.
Scully nods and slips the chain over her head. She motions for him to come closer, and he leans down to her. She presses a soft, grateful kiss to his cheekbone.
“I’ll just uh, go take care of the Cancer Man and stuff.” He bends down to place a final kiss to her forehead, and steps out the door.
He’ll deal with the rest of it. He’ll clear the path of obstacles, of things they need to investigate, so she can focus on getting better.
***
When Scully is discharged to Mulder’s care and he takes her home, she beelines for the loveseat that backs the kitchen. What Mulder considers her solitude chair. She sits sideways, crossing her ankles and pulling her knees to her chest, and sets her book on the arm of the chair.
Knowing she’s unlikely to relocate to the couch, he stretches out across the length of it so his feet are closest to her and grabs the book he left facedown on the coffee table last week, which Scully had placed a bookmark in and closed to save the spine. They sit quietly, absorbed in their respective books, each enjoying the quiet, steady company of the other.
“I’m going to go to bed.” Scully says, breaking the silence and rising from her seat.
Mulder smiles up at her, “Goodnight, Scully.”
She gives him a watery smile and disappears down the hallway.
When Mulder gives up on his book an hour later, he retreats down the hallway after her. When he reaches Scully’s bedroom door, accustomed to sliding into bed with her as has for the past few weeks, he pauses with his hand on the knob.
It’s closed. It’s never closed.
This is… new. Scully closes the door when they retreat to bed together, and had done so in her own apartment as well when he had stayed there. It hadn’t surprised him in the slightest, Scully’s a practical person, and a closed door is safer in the event of a fire. Usually, on the nights he joins her late, he closes it behind him. So far, she’s always left it open those nights.
But it’s closed now. The invitation he’s been eating up so greedily is closed, at least for now. Mulder turns to the other side of the hallway, swinging open the door to his own bedroom. The hinges creak.
Without even stepping in, Mulder knows he can’t sleep there. The room is cold, stale, hollow in a way an extra blanket and Scully’s fancy scented candles can’t fix. It’s not Scully’s room, with her soft pink walls and soft mattress and, well, Scully. His own bedroom serves a walk-in closet with a mattress.
There’s no love here.
He clicks the door closed and retreats to his leather couch, pressed against the staircase in the basement room that they use as a home office. At least on the couch, there is no empty side where someone else should lay.
***
When Mulder wakes a few hours later to shift positions, he feels the pressure of something resting against his knee. He opens his eyes to see Scully leaning against the couch, legs folded under her, dozing with her head rested on his knee. It’s not dissimilar from when she had snuck into his old apartment months ago, an instance they had never outright addressed.
He tries to shift his cramping leg slowly, gently, as not to wake his partner. She rouses anyway, turning around to blink up at him sleepily.
“You alright, Scully?” he asks, voice rough.
She nods. “I’m sorry I locked you out.”
“‘S alright.” He stretches to relieve the ache in his leg, and once it’s gone, lays flat and reaches his arms out to her in invitation. She rises, only to lay back down on top of him, legs intertwined and arms wrapped securely. Her head rests on his chest, and he presses a kiss to the top of it.
“I do trust you.” Scully’s voice is quiet beyond a whisper, and Mulder’s not entirely sure he actually heard her say it.
“I know.”
“I’m just…” She sighs. “Unsteady. Like I’m not sure what’s real.”
“This is real, Scully.” He says into her hair. “We’re home, we’re safe.”
“But are we?” She lifts her head to look at him properly. “Mulder, we’ve been manipulated and abducted, there have been attempts on both of our lives. I’m not certain we’ll ever be safe, much less feel it.”
“You’re right that it’s possible that this will go on forever.” He replies. “But it’s also possible that that’s not the case. It’s possible the Smoking Man will be dead on our doorstep tomorrow morning, and we won’t have to worry about him anymore. It’s possible that we’ll get a tip about Samantha’s tomorrow. If we worry about every horrible possibility, we also have to let ourselves dream about the wonderful ones.”
If only you knew, Scully thinks. She does daydream about peaceful and happy futures, and every single one of them involves him.
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The Dork Legacy 1.0 part 1
Yeah...me too. legacy_writers challenge. I actually started playing as SOON as the founder was uploaded, but I haven't had time to post until now. So I'm late to the bandwagon. Hopefully you guys aren't too sick of our dear elfin friend.
Right on, dude. I hope you brought some Mountain Dew, cuz the pizza's all ready on the way! But we're not chillin' in my mom's basement this time, because it just so happens that our dear founder got his OWN place.
It's rocking. But hey...it's above ground level. That's a plus, right?
Anyway, I guess I better introduce you to your new DM founder, Caedmon Dork.
He's a Leo with who just loves the ladies. He has 10 outgoing points, and 4 or 5 in everything else. His dream is to become a Celebrity Chef, just like Chairman Kaga.
You can't name a legacy Dork and NOT have a computer in the house. This is his ghetto-rigged machine. Right off the bat he finds a job in the slacker career (not his LTW but he rolled a want for it, it'll do for now).
And then starts playing video games. Of course.
Caedmon, shouldn't you ease off the computer games a little?
"Lay off, would you? I'm reading The Culinary Art of Star Wars."
But...you're sitting at your computer. And it's on.
"I just like to be close to it. Feel the cool glow of the screen."
...Right.
GET OUT OF MY YARD. LEAVE MY PAPER ALONE.
I must have been slacking, these days legacy founders are all ready pregnant with Gen 2 by the time the Welcome Wagon arrives. Well, here's Caed's: Mink Feisty, CAS.
Jane Doe, co-founder of an alien legacy I probably won't post.
And the one horned one eyed flying purple paper stealer! Caedmon sends them all packing.
*reads 1up.com* "Oh my God...how many video game companies can EA BUY?"
Are you just going to leave it there?
Yeah, didn't think so. You might not be a neat sim by points, but I can see in it your soul.
This guy just stared at Caed's door with his arms crossed for like a half hour. Whatcha waitin' for, buddy? Christmas?
Caedmon's old school. He does the crosswords. Forget that Sudoku crap! Stick it to the...man, I guess.
To avoid a visit from the Social Bunny before the first EVENING of a legacy, I sent Caedmon to call a taxi. When I came back from the bathroom, he was chatting to some guy named Joe over the internet.
...Sigh.
HAWT. Caedmon is going to LEAVE this HOUSE, and he's going to LEAVE it PRESENTABLY.
Originally posted at katu_sims.
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"Argh!"
Can't focus on your games?
"I said I'm fine. Now go away and just leave me alone!"
...
Remember that Potion of Life I gave you? I have another I'm willing to give you.
"...Huh?"
Its called the Re-Traiting Potion. It allows a sim to change ANY of the traits they currently have. It can't give you special traits of course...
...But if you want to remove your Noncommittal trait once and for all, maybe you'd be interested in it?
"...You'd really get me one of those?"
Well I can't just give it to you. You have to earn it. I'm only able to net you these things if I keep doing things you want to do. Whims, wants, wishes, whatever you want to call them, they all grant me points I can use like money for these things. Your LTW does too.
"Huh. Didn't realize you had your own currency too."
Yeah its weird huh? I used a big chunk for your Potion of Life, and this new potion costs a lot more but if we work hard I can probably snag one for you...
But that's only if you really want it. I'm happy to do as many of your whims as you wants right now. And you're close to your LTW already so that'll be a big boost on its own. But you really need to think on whether or not you're really ok with changing this part of yourself.
"I mean, this trait really has been stressing me out a lot lately..."
And its fair if you want to change it. Its also fair if you don't want to change at all. Being Noncommittal isn't necessarily a bad thing. Wanting to leave the Legacy House is also not a bad thing. But its also something that you personally have to decide for yourself. Not me, not Blue Belle, not any of your kids.
"...."
I've thrown open all the doors I can. If you end up deciding to leave even after we earn that Re-Traiting Potion, I won't stop you. Take your time and think about it as much as possible.
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#12: Whimsy
- [whimsy]: noun; "capricious humor or disposition; extravagant, fanciful, or excessively playful expression;" "an odd or fanciful notion;" or "a product of playful or capricious fancy."
- References to the level 50-60 LTW and BSM job quests, the moogle beast tribe story line up to level 7 reputation and the side quests available after completion of the New Nest in the Firmament.
- shameless use of writing prompt to introduce a new OC complimentary to my WoL that will be featured in future pieces, Rayne "Echoes" Cowen.
[May or may not have gotten carried away with this one. Hope you enjoy! ^_^”]
AO3 ver.
-
“I beg your pardon?” Aymeric answered aghast.
Ser Handeloup enjoyed the expression the lord commander gave, for it certainly mirrored the one that he certainly had made when he made his own discovery.
“Indeed, Ser Aymeric,” the second commander responded. “To think, the vaunted Warrior of Light and savior of Ishgard had not only treated with the moogles and House Dzaemel to restore Bahrr Lehs to its former glory, but she single-handedly brought honor to House Jervaint by crafting the equipment she uses to this day. Not to mention that she had worked together with Mistress Elde of the Mercantile association in the Crozier to bring about the case of the leather armor-”
“That was Aria, as well?” the lord commander gaped, his eyes wide with surprise.
“An unexpected development, is it not?” Handeloup answered with a bellow of laughter.
Aymeric leaned back against his seat at the war table in the middle of the Congregation of Knights Most Holy. He had wondered how in Halone’s name the quality of equipment fashioned had increased exponentially, thus increasing the morale of the Temple Knights overall. Moreover, he expected the restoration of the Firmament to take a miserly length of time to complete - only to find that the ideal checkpoint drafted and proposed by Lord Francel had reached completion in the matter of a few moons. Then, there was the young miss from House Jervaint that Handeloup was speaking of, an unpolished gem with such prodigious skill that would have gone unnoticed had it not been for an unknown sponsor fashioning the tools she needed to attend their scouting event.
“She seems to be quite a number of steps ahead of even you, my lord,” Aymeric heard Lucia tease at his opposite side.
“Indeed…”
The doors to the Congregation had opened and the three lifted their attentions upward to find a rather tall Hyuran male with hair like red wine and heterochromatic eyes the colors of night and day. When the man found that he was being stared at, he raised a brow in their direction and approached them.
“Greetings, Master Echoes,” Aymeric welcomed him with a kind smile. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
The man known as ‘Echoes’ bowed politely in the lord commander’s direction.
“Greetings, Lord Aymeric. I have come to deliver something to Ser Handeloup on behalf of my lady.”
The company was quite aware of this man’s relationship to the Warrior of Light - rather, Rayne "Echoes" Cowen was an outcast found in the middle of nowhere, fighting to survive, when Aria had run into him. Treated him with the respect that any living individual deserves to be treated, as well as cure him of mortal wounds that would have otherwise ended his life.
Thus did the man pledge his loyalties to her, allowing only her the use of his true name, and was stationed in Ishgard at her behest, working on behalf of Aria’s birthright and to ensure that Aymeric was taking care of himself. Lucia was eternally grateful.
So, they watched the respected man as he procured a pouch from his pockets, placed it on the wooden war table and slid it towards the second commander. When it reached him, Handeloup retrieved it, mildly startled by its weight, before peering inside.
“Why, this is-!” the man exclaimed, then ogled the man.
Echoes inclined his head. “My lady wishes to invest in Lady Jervaint’s talents. As such, she requests that all of her arms and weaponry needs are to be billed to House Lukos. That is, until the day she completes her training and obtains knighthood. She hopes that the amount withheld in that coinpurse is enough for the course of a moon-”
“Never you mind a moon, Master Echoes, this is enough to last half a year!” Handeloup exclaimed, then shifted to present the pouch to the lord- and first commander.
Echoes raised a brow lazily. “Is that so? Then I have utmost faith that it will be used efficiently.”
Echoes bowed once more and turned to leave, but Aymeric rushed to his feet.
“Please, wait a moment, Master Echoes!”
Stopping in his tracks, Echoes turned back to the man.
“Simply ‘Echoes’ is fine, my lord. I could not possibly accept such honorable words from the one my lady finds favor in.”
Aymeric flinched, startled by the man’s fervent fealty to his beloved. “Th-then, Echoes, please tell me - do you happen to know if Aria is returned to the city?”
Echoes smiled. “Indeed, my lord. However, she urged me not to bring the matter up as she was sure you and yours would be rather occupied at this moment.”
“Do you know where she is at this moment?”
“Yes. She is currently entertaining the children within the Firmament. She will most likely remain there until the sun sets.”
Aymeric shifted his gaze towards Lucia and the woman sighed heavily.
“You do not have an appointment important enough that it cannot wait until the 'morrow,” she answered.
Aymeric’s eyes beamed. “Wonderful! Then, let us pay our dear warrior a visit, shall we?”
The lord commander turned towards Echoes expectantly and the man bowed once more.
“Very good, my lord. Now, if you would.”
The three commanders followed the man out of the Congregation and through the Brume. Eyes followed them, curious to why the renowned Ser Aymeric was strolling about and even Thomelin, the gatekeeper of the Firmament, was startled by the esteemed personage entering. The sight of Echoes did well to keep him from panicking, allowing a rather smooth entry.
Aymeric’s eyes widened. He had heard the New Nest had been completed, but he hadn’t imagined just how beautiful its designs were. As he followed Echoes, he couldn't help but gawk at every building, every staircase and railing that he could, committing it all to memory. Every now and then, he would spy the excited expressions of the inhabitants and the cheers that marked both happiness and hope. The fruit of all their labor - by the Fury, it was all falling to place.
“Here we are, Rolanberry Field,” Echoes announced.
Aymeric, Lucia and Handeloup admired the artistry of the estate. The walls were built on such evenly cut stone and the structure wastes no space on the plot it rested on. Even through the closed doors, the company could hear laughs of glee and delight emanating from it and it made their hearts feel so full.
“Ah, Master Echoes is back,” a voice called out.
The group turned and found a small Elezen girl carrying bolts of cloth in an assortment of colors, as well as find a wicker basket hanging from her arm besides. Upon further inspection, Aymeric and Lucia recognized the small girl to be Maelie, the child that had been tossed off the roof of the Vault during the dreadful day the Brothers of True Faith had held poor citizens hostage within its walls.
“Oh, and so is Ser Aymeric and Ser Lucia!” the girl exclaimed, becoming panicked and yet excitable.
Echoes didn’t hesitate to step towards the girl and stretch his arms out to gather half that the girl was carrying. Maelie smiled wide, grateful for the help.
“Do not be alarmed, Miss Maelie. They are also here to see the lady.”
“Oh!” Maelie turned towards the lord commander and quickly stepped towards him. “Then you’re just in time! Lady Aria is inside and teaching us arts and crafts!”
Aymeric’s smile grew all the fonder. “Is she now? Would you bring us to her? We do not wish to interrupt the class - we simply wish to welcome her home.”
“In that case, we should hurry! We ran out of materials, so Lady Aria had given us coin to purchase more. Everyone’s waiting!”
The girl bounced in her heel and rushed inside the building. Aymeric turned to Echoes and the Hyur male only gave a satisfied grin before he followed the small girl inside. The others mirrored his movements.
The moment the four entered, there was a sudden quiet that was quite opposite of what they had originally heard. That was, until they heard Maelie’s voice echoing against the walls and the subsequent bellows of gratitude from other children at the sight of her haul. There was the sound of rummaging, of children dividing the materials between themselves and when they had crossed the hall into the room they were residing in, they found children gathered before the Warrior of light, watching intently as the woman held an embroidery hoop in her hands, along with a needle and thread.
“Be careful as you stitch the patterns, everyone,” Aria reminded them. “It will not do for you to harm yourselves while practicing. If you are not confident, we have thimbles to protect your fingers.”
“Miss Aria, can you show me how to do this pattern again?” a small boy asked of her.
“Oh, Peyraquile, of course. You do it like this.”
The boy named Peyraquile, as well as two others - a girl wearing a blue winter coat and a boy wearing a grey urban coat - leaned in. Everyone, even children that hadn’t asked the question, watched as the woman weaved the needle in and out of the cloth that Peyraquile presented to her - slow enough for them to pay careful attention, but not as slow as to make them dreadfully bored. When she was finished, she turned back to the child.
“Does that help, my dear?” she asked.
Peyraquile nodded quickly and took the hoop back. “Yes, it does! Thank you, Miss Aria!”
The three children nodded and retreated back to their spot. In that time, three gentlemen wearing red anemos long sleeves and craftsman’s pants stepped to Aymeric’s side from the other direction as they peered into the room.
“My lady, we finished the outer frame of the structure as you have instructed. Do you have the time to inspect it before we move on to the next step?”
“Ah, Rasequin, of course-”
Aria stopped mid-sentence when she followed the direction of the voice and found not only the caretakers present, but the lord speaker of Ishgard in accompaniment of the first and second commander standing by. The sight gave her slight surprise before she sighed and stood to her feet.
“I will be with you a moment, Rasequin, Gontrandoix, Pehainel. In the meantime, please prepare the materials for the next step of construction. Rayne, do you mind watching after the children for a moment?” she asked.
Echoes nodded. “As you wish, my lady.”
Aria shifted her head, motioning for the remaining three individuals to follow and she led them into the kitchen. She quickly prepared Ishgardian tea for them and set delicate teacups before them on the table.
“Please, help yourselves,” she urged.
They did just so as Aria sat at the table with them, watching the three fondly as she propped her head up with her arm, leaning against it ever so slightly.
“I assume you have no qualms with my investment in Lady Jervaint?” she questioned.
Handeloup bellowed in laughter. “Nay, my lady, none at all! Rather, we were rather bewildered on how you manage to continuously surprise us. The lord commander the most!”
Aria shifted her gaze to Aymeric and the man looked horrified hearing that his second commander sold him out almost immediately. Fighting back the burning behind his pink-dusted cheeks, he cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly at the warrior.
“Indeed. You have given so much to Ishgard already, Ia. Such things-”
Aria raised a hand to interrupt.
“Ishgard is also my home, Aym. I will have none of that. Not only is it the duty of a citizen in this beautiful nation to aid where needed, I wish to make use of my talents and knowledge as such. Plus, ‘tis not as if I am spoiling them, as you can see with the fine gentlemen you met earlier.”
“Are they perchance the caretakers of this place, my lady?” Lucia asked.
Aria nodded. “Indeed. They asked for my assistance in creating a playground of sorts for the children. I taught them how to perform basic woodwork and smithing techniques so that they could fare on their own. They only ask of me to check on their work because one cannot be too careful.”
“And the children?” Aymeric asked. “They requested they teach you embroidery?”
Aria chuckled softly at that, a playful and entertained smile stretched upon her lips. “Nay, my dear. They requested to be taught ways they can contribute to the Restoration effort. They came together beforehand and some of them decided that selling custom handkerchiefs as staples of Ishgardian artistry to be exported would be a good idea. Who am I to deny them such ambitions when they are so eager to learn?”
Handeloup hummed, markedly impressed as he leaned back on his seat and crossed his arms.
“What a splendid idea, my lady. And you say they came up with the idea of their own accord?”
Aria nodded. “Indeed.” Aria stood on her feet and offered a curt bow towards the three. “Now, pardon me for my rudeness, but I shall return soon. I mean to inspect the work the fine caretakers have done so they may continue on their project. Ah, but feel free to stay as long as you like. Rayne?”
At the call of his name, Echoes had stepped from around the corner and into the room to join them. He bowed respectively towards Aria before she departed to do as she said she would. It was then that Handeloup found courage to ask what they were all thinking.
“Speak true, Master Echoes, how is it that Lady Aria is so motivated to complete such large tasks?”
Aymeric leaned in where he sat, eager to learn the answer, as well. Echoes pondered over the question, cupping his chin thoughtfully as he had done so.
“Well, if it is my lady, I would assume she is viewing all of this as a game.”
Lucia raised a brow skeptically. “A game?”
Echoes nodded his head. “Yes, Ser Lucia. Recently, Lord Stryder had caught wind of dissenters looking to stain Lord Aymeric’s good name as lord speaker of Ishgard. When my lady heard of this, she was quite furious, you see. So, she challenged the noble houses that were against Lord Aymeric - that if certain requisites were not met within a given time, she will not interfere with any further attempt they would have if they were to put a motion forward to have him step down.”
Lucia jumped to her feet, almost slamming her fist to the table. “That is-!”
“Just as you feel, Ser Lucia,” Echoes answered with an incline of his head. “Unfortunately for them, they only see House Lukos as a middle-ranked noble house with nary a connection to the upper echelons because of their prolonged absence from the country. Moreover, my lady issued the challenge with Lord Stryder as the intermediary - therefore they are unawares that it was actually the Warrior of Light, with all the support of the four High Houses and the Mercantile association of the Jeweled Crozier, not to mention the entire realm besides, that they have challenged.
So, she has rather taken her time ensuring that the lords would, for lack of a better way of putting it, ‘stew in their mistakes’, as Ser Estinien would say.”
Aymeric, Lucia and Handeloup stared at the man as if he had grown a second before the lord commander pressed his hand against his face and released a helpless laugh.
“Boosting our economy, putting down opposition in a way that maintains their honor as a noble house, raising the status of her own and rebuilding the city-state to a level above its former glory … and she perceives it as a game.”
Echoes smiled pleasantly at the sight of the three’s exhaustion and Aymeric was then reminded of the character of the woman that he had fallen in love with. Benevolent as Halone herself and as punishing as the Fury when angered. As astute as the most knowledgeable of academics…
...and as whimsical as the very definition of the word can get.
#ffxiv fanfiction#aymeric de borel#lucia goe junius#handeloup#seaswolchallenge#aria vitali writes#my wol has a lot of issues#she's very protective after all
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Just wanted to drop in a quick thank you esp. for the relationship mods! So nice to have commitment without having to do the whole marriage route with go steady. Likewise so much easier to have romance sims close the door on multiple old flames after they fulfil there LTW. Thanks so much! x :)
No problem, glad you like my mods! :D
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Important Dreams
(ltw pt.1) Which dreams are important to the boys and which should be replaced? A quick Kaiswell oneshot written for the lgbt tlc week! ( @lgbttlcweek ) Enjoy!
The middle of the night is apparently the perfect time for bad dreams.
Kai wakes up in cold sweat, gasping, his eyes wide as he tries to remember what’s real and what’s not. He whimpers as he can’t, shivers running through his frame and choked sobs wracking his body as he curls into himself.
He jumps at the sound of a door opening somewhere and then closing again. He practically flies backwards when his own room door opens, not knowing what’s happening, where he is, or even who he is.
But then there’s a warm arm around his shoulder, a comforting hand running through his hair, a pair of lips gently brushing against his forehead, and a warm blanket his shaking frame, acting like a shield against the nightmare that should quickly be exiled.
“Hey, hey, love, calm down, I’m with you.” A gentle whisper, the softest tone.
Kai nods and eventually his breathing steadies as he looks up to his boyfriend. It’s then that he remembers who he is and that he has the best boyfriend in all of the galaxies. He also knows that his nightmare was exactly that: A nightmare. Not real, not important. Unlike Thorne, who’s the most important dream come true Kai’s ever had.
“I love you,” Thorne murmurs.
Kai smiles and melts into his embrace, pulling Thorne down so the two of them are lying facing each other, their legs intertwined and their hands firmly locked together.
“You good?” Thorne whispers.
He’s not known to be an anxious person but he can’t help the worry that fills his heart when it comes to Kai. He can’t help how the tension spreads though each of his cells like a biological wildfire, and he has no way to remove the thoughts of Kai floating around his brain at every given moment of the day.
Kai nods. “Thank you,” he murmurs.
“My pleasure, your majesty.” Thorne winks.
Kai giggles, his copper eyes lighting up just like every other time Thorne has winked at him. He can’t help it, he just loves the casual way his boyfriend can make him feel special, important, and loved.
Thorne starts to absently draw on Kai’s arm, using his finger as a makeshift paintbrush, and smiles each time Kai shivers before relaxing again. It’s dreamy, his natural smile, it truly is.
This is something the two of them have now become familiar with, a rhythm they can enter with barely any difficulty. It’s something they cherish but can’t explain to anyone else. It’s theirs and theirs alone, but they wouldn’t have it any other way.
Today, they choose to stare out of the window, a beautiful view of the skyline glowing against the pitch black sky and acting as the perfect distraction from any nightmares.
The two of them share matching smiles and Thorne allows a small chuckles to escape him as Kai stares in awe at the bright city lights on the horizon of comfort.
He loves the way Kai’s dimples deepen when he’s with him, and he couldn’t dream of a more adorable person. If someone were to ask him who the most important person in he entire universe is, they’d expect him to reply with his own name but he’s definitely say Kai’s.
“Hey, the lights are shining like glitter.” Kai pokes Thorne’s side.
There’s something so beautiful about the way he exclaims the observation, maybe the childlike wonder in his tone or the excited way his face lifts up brighter than the lights themselves.
“So do your eyes,” Thorne comments absently, then blushes, the red a stark contrast against his cocky smirk.
Kai smiles happily, turning back to the city with wonder in his eyes and love in his heart. And this love is special because it’s been given to him, it’s not something that he automatically has because of his personality.
Thorne watches Kai watch the horizon, grinning to himself as it once again dawns on him how wonderful his boyfriend can be.
“I adore you,” Kai confesses softly, his voice velvet and precious.
Thorne interlocks their fingers and gently kisses Kai’s forehead, somehow managing to pull him even closer than he was before.
Even though it’s the dead of night and they should be sleeping in order to wake up early tomorrow, neither of them are complaining about a lack of sleep. Both of them agree that staying awake with each other is better than any rest.
Sweet dreams are great, but they’re better. Nice dreams can help you in sleep, but they can always help each other. Even memorable dreams don’t last as long as they hope their love will.
Being together is what’s important.
Their love is what’s important.
Even when the whole world turns against them and humanity makes it seem like society could function without the either of them, they stand by each other and pull one another up until it appears like they’d never fallen in the first place.
They, to each other, are the most important dream.
like/reblog but don’t repost, thanks!
#lgbttlcweek#kai#thorne#kaiswell#lgbt#the lunar chronicles#tlc#fanfiction#fluff#hurt comfort#nightmares#domestic#marissa meyer#fanifc#oneshot#my writing#emperor kaito#emperor kai#captain carswell thorne#carswell thorne#lgbt tlc week
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The party was officially called to a close at two in the afternoon, with Edwardo exclaiming his pleasure as he raced for the door.
More parties equals easier access to friendships for Tanner’s LTW.
So far there’s only been one party crasher - Great-Grandpa Drew. A paparazzi or two and one zombie got in as a result of unlocking the gate for easier access to the party for the guests.
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Home Staging Success Secrets!
Bill Rapp here with the Heartfelt and Hot in Houston Blog, and this is our newest segment: Home Staging Success Secrets!
Seven seconds. That’s all the time Leia T. Ward of LTW Design has to convince you to buy a house. And when the asking price hovers somewhere between seven and eight figures, that means she’s really got to work to make a great first impression. “Buying a home is about making an emotional connection, and most people know whether they’re interested in a house or not within seven seconds of stepping inside,” she explains. Home Staging Success Secrets!
As a home stager, Ward specializes in maximizing a home’s perceived worth, so naturally, we had to know her secrets for making spaces look their most luxurious. Even if you have zero plans to put your place on the market, these tips are worth banking. Walk through your home, and in each room ask yourself: What do I want to remember most about this space? Is it the fireplace? The view from the windows? That killer sofa you had custom covered in a banana-leaf print that would make Blanche Devereaux jealous? Whatever impression you want to leave with should be your focal point, and the best way to highlight it is to create a defined pathway toward it, Ward says. “If you have beautiful French doors, for example, you don’t want a sofa so close to them that you can’t fully open the door, and you don’t want to have to walk around the sofa to get to them,” she explains. “Lead people to what you want them to remember.” Home Staging Success Secrets!
In every room, Ward asks herself a second question: Why? “If anything in the room makes me ask, ‘Why is that there?’ it should go,” she says. A streamlined, more minimalist look can make a room appear luxe, but that doesn’t mean you have to skew stark or sterile. It’s more a matter of making sure everything has a reason behind its placement. People always talk about wanting their home to be “light, bright and airy,” and the quickest way to do that is to let in as much natural light as possible. Ward will often take down the window treatments in rooms to illuminate the space, and she’ll trade out the furniture for low-profile pieces that don’t block the view. Provided your view isn’t of a brick wall or a landfill, it’s worth playing it up to give your home that ripped-from-the-pages-of-a-magazine vibe. “When you’re selling a home, you’re really selling a lifestyle,” she explains. “‘If I buy this house, I’ll live like this’ is the mentality.” Now you can achieve it without dealing with closing costs. Home Staging Success Secrets!
That is all for today folks from the Heartfelt & Hot In Houston Blog, make it a great day!
The inspiration for today’s edition came from this original article: https://www.purewow.com/home/home-stager-secrets-increase-home-value
If you are seriously considering moving right now you need to take action right now and talk to a reputable Real Estate & Mortgage Broker today, please call 281-222-0433 or visit:
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Read the full article
#CommercialMortgageBroker#CommercialRealEstateBroker#CRE#ForSaleinHoustonHeights#HeartfeltandHotInHoustonBlog#HousesforSaleinHouston#HoustonRealEstateNews#MortgageBroker#MortgageViking#SBASpecialist#SunRealtyHouston
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