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"Papa, I feel so pretty!" Bai cheered. Bai was wearing a traditional red and white kimono dress with red flats to match. Gramma even added a red flower head piece to match and give her already beautiful outfit some magic. Bai has never gotten so dolled up before and she feels like a true princess.

"Well, that's because you are pretty! You're pretty when you're all dressed up like this or when you're dressed in your training clothes. Never forget that Bai." Yao replied to his young sweet.

Bai looked at her Papa with pure happiness. She's very lucky to have him in her life and to have someone who cares for her so deeply. She might have not met her actual father, but she knows that her papa is a true father to her. She grabs his big, calloused hand and gives it an "I love you squeeze".

Yao takes the child's smaller, soft hand and copies her action.

Suddenly, they are both snapped out of the moment when they hear a voice.

"Yao! Welcome." A lady annouced, bowing at Yao.

Yao returns the gesture by bowing back at the servant.

"Thank you, Liang. It's always a pleasure to see you."

Liang looks down to Bai and gives her a big bright, beautiful smile.

"And who do we have here? Is this one of Princess Azula's friend?" Liang questioned.

Bai began to grow nervous and sweaty. It didn't hit her until this very moment what exactly she was getting herself into. But, she shook off her nerves. Firelord Ozai invited me, she thought to herself. It's okay for me to be here.

"I'm Bai. And I'm not Azula's friend. Oh, that sounded mean. I mean I'm not her friend yet, but that's only because I haven't met her yet! I'm hoping we'll be very good friends though." Bai answered, unsure of herself.

Well that didn't go as planned.

Liang smiled at the young girl before looking at the guard.

"She's a cutie."

"Well, I think so. But I'm known to be a little biased." Yao answered.

Liang gave a small giggle before moving out of the door way. Bai and Yao walked in together. All of Bai's nerves were replaced with excitement.

"Have fun you two!" Liang called. She began talking to more guests, and her voice became softer as Yao and Bai walked closer to the social room.

Bai couldn't believe her pretty blue eyes. The Palace is beautiful! When you first walked in, you could see the columns standing proud and strong, much like the Fire Nation. Banners with Fire Nation insignia hung high on every corner you passed. Combinations of red, black, and gold followed you whenever you went. It was a beautiful mixture that Bai couldn't get enough of. She's never really seen so much beauty in one room. She knows that the Fire Nation can do some... questionable things, based on the way Gramma speaks, but no one can deny the fact it's beautiful. You can feel the passion, energy, and life.

"We're almost to the ballroom, Bai. We just have to cut through this walkway outside and we'll be on our way partying." Yao said, snapping Bai out of her own thoughts.

Bai thought it couldn't get more beautiful until the duo stepped outside.

When Bai looked to her right, she was greeted with a beautiful outdoor scenery. It was nighttime so Bai couldn't see the garden in it's daytime beauty, but it was just as beautiful at night; maybe even prettier. The fountain carried a beautiful, heavenly glow to it thanks to the moon. The moon even shared reflections with the pond, allowing the pond to glow brightly through the night, and if you were quiet enough, you could faintly hear the turtle ducks sing a song.

I can't believe the princess get to play out here and feed turtle ducks all the time! You could probably have so much fun on that bridge over there! Maybe Azula and I will be such good friends, and she'll invite me here all the time! I'd love to explore this area more, Bai thought to herself.

Suddenly, Bai and Yao stopped right at the ballroom doors. Yao crouched down so he could be eye level with his granddaughter.

"Now, Bai. I want you to have a good time tonight. I know Gramma and I don't get to really treat you to things like this so I want you to take complete advantage to it. And, if for some reason, you're having a bad time, come find me. We'll out-dance everyone here." Yao said with a coy smile on his face.

"Of course," Bai giggled. "Thank you, Papa. I'm going to have fun tonight."

"I know you are," Yao said, patting the young child's shoulder.

Yao had his hand on the door, ready to open it until he remembered something very important.

"Oh, and sweetie? No bending." Yao whispered. He couldn't risk anyone hearing him.

Yao then opened the door with force, and Bai felt her nerves coming back. Everyone looked at her and Yao as soon as they entered. She wondered if her Papa was feeling a little overwhelmed too, but she figured not since he began talking to one of the servants.

"Yao, what a pleasure to see you." The servant spoke while bowing down.

"As well to you." Yao replied, coping her motions.

Yao knew Bai was a little nervous so he took her hand and guided her through the large crowd of people.

As Bai was following her Papa, she noticed that there wasn't many children here. She could only spot three girls in the crowd, one of them being Azula, she figures.

I thought this party was going to be filled with children? Where are they?

Suddenly, Yao came to a halt, causing Bai to bump into her papa since she was behind him.

"Firelord Ozai," Yao started. "It is with great pleasure to be in your presence."

"Yes. Thank you for that. Thank you for coming as well. You know you are my most trusted guard."

Bai peeked from behind to get a look of the man full of power. When she glanced up at the Firelord, she began to grow afraid.

He was wearing a sinister smile and he towered of Bai and Yao. He had is hair up in a half up half down style and was being hold by a crown- shaped like a flame. He was wearing layers of red and gold that made him look very strong. Bai expected to be in awe when she saw the Fire Lord, but she was. He looked like power, and she didn't like the look of it on this man. Bai didn't know much about him, but she knew that he could destroy someone with a snap of his fingers.

He then looked down and locked eyes with the young child. When he saw her, his smile grew even bigger- making him look wickedly evil.

"And is this the famous, Bai, I've heard about?" The Firelord questioned. His voice sounded vile and it made the hair on Bai's arm stand.

Bai became nervous with the Firelord's attention on her. However, she knew better than to ignore him. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves before answering.

"Yes," she started, bowing like Papa did. "I'm Bai. Thank you so much, Firelord Ozai, for inviting me to suck a luxurious party."

"You are welcome, little one. I should be saying the honor is mine."

Bai couldn't understand why, but there was something about this man that made her want to scream. Papa has always told her that she must show reverence to the Firelord. Especially, considering how kind they've been to the Shang family.

But Bai couldn't find anything to respect about this man. She could only find reasons to fear him.

"Bai," Firelord Ozai utteted, stopping Bai's train of thought. "I have a special someone I'd like you to meet."

Suddenly, a young girl came from behind the Fire Lord.

"Bai, I would like for you to meet my daughter and princess to our nation, Azula."

Azula held a nasty smirk on her face. She had fair skin and shared the same golden eyes just as of her father. Her hair was pulled back, out of her way with the exception of two pieces hanging from her face.

"Princess, it is a pleasure to be here. I'm Bai and it is wonderful to meet you." Bai said cheerfully.

"Well of course it is! It is my party after all. It's probably the most fun you'll have in your life."

"Yeah, you're probably right, Princess. I never really get to do things like this!" Bai spoke, innocently. She didn't even realize Azula was attempting to speak down upon her.

And Azula loved that.

"Yes, well, why don't you two girls run along. Bai's grandfather and I have serious business to attend to." Firelord Ozai insisted.

Azula immediately took Bai's hand and ran towards the two other girls she saw earlier. One of the girls was wearing pink outfit and had her hair pulled back into a braid. The other girl was wearing maroon and black robes and had her hair pulled back with two little buns on her head. Bai had a feeling this was a close group of girls and wasn't sure how they would feel adding another addition.

I just hope they'll want to be friends with me too.

"Ty Lee, Mai- I want you to meet, Bai. She's the guard's granddaughter I was telling you about."

Ty Lee gave Bai a big smile while Mai looked as if she couldn't care less about what Azula just said.

"Hi there! I'm Ty Lee! It's so nice to meet you! It's nice to have another girl to add to the gang, right Mai?"

Mai took a long, exasperating sigh before answering. Does she always seem so.... gloomy, Bai thought to herself.

"Yeah," Mai responded flatly. "More people I'm forced to talk to."

"Oh, lighten up Mai," Azula said. "Bai is our new friend here and we must treat her as so. Or I know... are you scared she'll take away Zuko from you?"

Mai's emotionless face turned into anger very quickly, upon hearing this name.

"Yeah," Ty Lee joined in. "You better watch out, Mai. You have some competition!"

Ty Lee and Azula giggled like hyenas, Mai looked like she wanted to destroy Bai, and Bai just felt very uncomfortable.

"Um- who's Zuko?" Bai questioned.

"Oh, it's just the boy Mai's been after for ever." Ty Lee explained.

"Oh," Bai replied awkwardly. She didn't know how to feel about being pulled into the middle of all this. She just wanted to make friends and eat some Fire gummies. She wasn't expecting to be stuck in some love struck war only 30 seconds after meeting these girls. "Well, where is he? I don't think I've met him yet?"

"No... you haven't." Azula said, looking of Bai's shoulder with a wicked smile on her face. It was the same smile her father carried and it made Bai's skin crawl. "But you're about to."

Suddenly, Azula shoved Bai without warning. She didn't use enough force to cause Bai to fall on her bottom, but it was just enough force to cause Bai to run into a stranger who must've been trying to walk past her.

Oh no! I'm in trouble. It's over for me! My 11 years are about to end in this moment. This person will be furious with me.

Bai immediately began apologizing to the victim of Azula's sneak attack, hoping she wouldn't get in trouble. She didn't known why, but she knew she would probably get blamed for the whole incident. Especially since it's Azula's birthday and she's the princess.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to! It was an accident! Please don't be mad at me!" Bai pleaded.

When the stranger turned around, she was greeted with a young boy. He didn't look much older than her; maybe a year older than herself. He only towered a couple inches over her, but she still managed to feel slightly intimidated by this boy. Not the same way she did with Azula, but just enough for Bai to understand this boy is important.

He had jet black hair that was tied up in a slick ponytail. He golden amber eyes and a twinkle to them and they looked very inviting. His skin was free from any imprecations and had a slight glow.

Bai's stomach began turning into knots.

"It's no problem!" The boy replied. His voice was raspy, but still sounded a little young. His voice probably hasn't changed all the way yet, Bai thought to herself. Yet, it didn't stop the butterflies dancing in Bai's stomach.

What's wrong with me? Get it together, Bai.

"Ugh!" Azula screamed. "Zuko! What are you doing with my friend? Sorry about my dumb-dumb of a brother."

Bai was shocked about hearing Azula had a brother. No one has spoke about Zuko this whole night, not even his father.

Shouldn't the prince be a special guest that I also should meet? Why wouldn't the Firelord let me meet his son?

Pink started to color Zuko's cheeks out of anger and embarrassment. Bai understood that Azula may give Zuko a hard time. She figured she should step in to defend the prince and save him from embarrassment. After all, Bai was the one to bump into the prince.

"N-no! He's fine. It was my fault. I'm just clumsy." Bai replied with a breathless giggle.

Zuko smiled shyly at Bai. He let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding in. A small part of him felt glad that she would defend him. No one has done that since his mother disappeared. Azula is perfect, and never does anything wrong. So, it felt nice having someone make him feel like he isn' a constant screw-up. Zuko suddenly wanted to know more about this girl.Why would someone who seems so sweet want to hang out with someone as icky as Azula.

"Oh! Where are my manners? I'm Bai. It is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Zuko." She said while bowing.

"Oh," Zuko awkwardly started. He didn't realize she would make him feel so nervous. Her voice sounded soft and sweet, and her smile was pure. She must've been the type of girl everyone wanted to be friends with.

Play it cool Zuko, he thought to himself. She's just a girl- a nice one at that.

"Um, hello! Zuko here. But I-I guess you already knew that since Azula already said my name."

Nice, he thought to himself proudly.

"Oh, Zuzu!" Azula interrupted. "Why must you always get so weird around girls?"

"Not funny, Azula!" Zuko growled.

"Yeah," Ty Lee giggled. "I don't even see you get this awkward around Mai!"

Ty Lee must've struck a nerve with Mai because upon hearing this, Mai ran off into a different part of the room.

"Oops! Better go get her!"

Ty Lee then stood on her hands and walked over to Mai, leaving Bai with the royal siblings.

"Well," Bai chimed in. "I don't think he's weird. And I also don't think he was being weird! Your bother seems very sweet, Azula. Would you like to hang out with us?"

Zuko was about to answer until Azula butted in.

"Sorry, Bai. But we have more important things to do."

Bai looked at Zuko with disappointment. She wanted to get to know the prince. That's what tonight was all about anyways- making new friends. Yes, she's getting to know Mai and Ty Lee, but she was more curious about Zuko. She didn't know why, but she wanted to know everything about him.

"Oh... okay. Um, sorry Zuko. Maybe we'll run into each other again." Bai suggested.

The young prince smiled at the possibility of running into Bai again. He didn't know much about her, but he knew he wanted to. He wanted to be around Bai all the time.

Azula grabbed Bai's hand, leading her to the direction of Mai and Ty Lee. Bai turned around and saw the prince holding a small smile on his face while waving "goodbye" to Bai.

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"Well, did you enjoy yourself?" Yao asked. "I noticed that the princess really enjoyed your company."

Bai thought about the time she spent with Azula. She liked her of course. Bai doesn't hate anyone. But, some of the things Azula said and did tonight didn't sit right with Bai. Maybe it was just an exciting night for her and she got carried away, Bai thought to herself.

"I did! I really enjoyed the party. There was so much dancing and life! I ate so much fire gummies tonight! I'm surprised I'm not sick, Papa."

Yao laughed deeply. He hoped Bai would have a wonderful night and he was glad that he was able to do this for her.

"Well, I'm glad, sweetie. I've got something else I want to ask you. How do you feel about that prince? I saw you two smiling at each other and awful lot."

Pink washed over Bai's face while heat was slowly crawling over. She remembered how gentle and sweet he was-  the complete opposite of Azula. Of course, she couldn't tell Papa the full truth; she'd never hear the end of it!

"Um, he's alright, Papa." Bai awkwardly spoke. "I didn't get to really talk to him tonight that much. I don't really no how I feel about him."

Yao looked at his granddaughter. He knew she was lying. But, he didn't say anything. He did know, however, she was about to be a little more embarrassed.

"Oh, I see. Well, I hope you don't mind him too much because you'll probably be seeing him and the princess in the days to come."

"What?" Bai squealed.

Yao smiled at his sweet's reaction. He knew she'd freak out about that.

"When the Firelord said he and I had matters do discuss, it was about Gramma. I wanted to see if he'd let me take some time off because... well, you know that Gramma hasn't been feeling herself for the past few days." Yao started.

Bai disappointingly nodded her head. She hasn't tried thinking of it too much, but she knows it's true. Gramma hasn't been herself at all. She's not sick; she's in perfect health. But there was something off about her. Her eyes didn't hold the same warmth they used to. She doesn't smile like she used to. Gramma tries her best to be strong for Bai, but it's still hard.

"Well," Yao started. "He wasn't pleased with that idea."

Of course he wasn't, Bai said to herself.

"However, we came up with a compromise. Firelord Ozai is aware that Gramma isn't feeling well, and she probably needs to have some personal time alone."

"So....." Bai questioned. She wasn't sure she was following her Papa's trail.

"So, he thinks it's best that she takes care of herself for a few days. At first, I didn't think it was a good idea. I had to explain that someone had to watch you, Bai. But apparently, you made quite the impression on the Firelord. And, his daughter seems to take a liking to you. So, while Gramma is taking time to heal, you can come with me."

Bai was in shock. The Firelord really is allowing me into his home, she thought to herself.  Willingly?

"Really? So, I could hang out with Zuko and Azula!"

"Yes, child. However, he did tell me this. Since, he is being so gracious to you, then you must start working in the palace. You will be the prince and princess' personal maid. He couldn't allow you to just do nothing around the palace. But, that still lets you spend time with them."

Normally, that would sound like a dealbreaker to most people but not for Bai. She was excited at the fact she would get to be in the palace! She'll get to be with her Papa! She doesn't get to spend time with him often since he's always at the palace. So, it'll be nice being with him. Not to mention she'll get to become even better friends with Azula.

And get to spend time with Zuko as well.

"Papa, that sounds wonderful! Me? Getting to work at the royal palace! That is a huge blessing. The spirits really are good to us!" Bai cheered.

"I thought so too, Bai." Yao exclaimed. He was very lucky to have such an understanding, sweet granddaughter. I hope you always stay like this, he said to to himself. "You start tomorrow so I hope you're ready to wake up early."

This guy Trump is a complete a******. You're sitting there demanding to be the devil and people know their mutants and he is considered to be a huge loser and you just let him sit there and stink up our son's life and it's really the max and they're intolerant of Trump's behavior and our son and they just make it worse we said this morning we need to stop the max we went in there and got information this way too many of them and it's just like the clones if they get out we're all in trouble they have five areas like the Eastern seaboard each of them are way too big and there are clones on Australia and New Zealand that are half as big as the max they're way too big and it has got to stop we can't stand the phones at all and these idiots don't know what they're doing they're getting killed by them and it's going to be a nightmare but we have huge numbers of clones on the ships and they're going to fight they're discovering each other and the ships have to be theirs giant armies of Max are going to descend on the ships up north and they're going to go via tunnel and the phones are going to meet them and stop them it is a huge conflict that is going to occur down there they have giant numbers of vehicles huge numbers of small ships and they're getting ready now and also the morlocks are going down they have huge numbers of clones and built tons of armament and they're going to try and take the ships and that's today the clones have the huge bases too and people are going to the basis to try and take stuff massive armies today in the eastern hemisphere they are down to 50% capacity and 25% are damaged heavily summer on fire about 5% of those and they will probably be gone we expect the 20% to be gone today and they'll be down to 25% by the end of the day. The Western hemisphere they're at 40% capacity believe it or not it's very low but it's still very huge half of them are damaged badly and they're still rating and heavily and we anticipate about 10 of them to be out by the end of the day and 20 will be massively damaged so they'll only be 10 that are intact someone they're defending them fiercely cuz they're near the ships once these clones come out those bases will be gone and it's going to be a big war and it's ugly it's like just really an odd thing it's like junk versus junk and people are messing around with ours while it's happening that was their plan we have it covered and we have a lot of things to do that people are seeing it too but we're stopping them from building in the upper Midwest and middle Midwest and middle areas and upper areas everywhere and we're pushing them back we're going to hold them back and hold the line they can go north or they can fight the clones over the Midwest below the only intermittently and we want to reduce their cloning and reduce the clones cloning and corks it's ridiculous milk can breathe with these idiots around this war should be over in about a week no but it's going to be going roughly because of all these clones and we need much much more strict controls and a lot more power so he's got his shirt on this is this is an easy way to do it they meet up with these guys in their tunnel in their smoke and Ash and there's no report made and there's other monsters too that go in the tunnels and we're getting those ready it's a huge war down there and we have to watch out for devices everywhere and scan and we need tons of kg the way behind but they're working the two are and they're going to get the bosses up and they're going to make sure those keys are activated and they're going to do it soon and he wants us to meet we have not done this we're going to do it not fully dressed but we know it's appropriate and we're going to wear the same thing an insignia and States who we are as the priest and we're going to meet and discuss how to get done to see you having a tough time doing it he's asking for us for our help and she is too and she's proud of him right now

Thor Freya

Olympus there's usually nobody here proud of our son at all in any way and a bunch of mooches who think that's just going to keep coming to him but we're proud of him and we know that he's kicking ass and right now and things are going to change for the better for him

I'm extremely proud this is a great thing and we need to publish but I really am proud

Hera

so this is love — annie leonhart

— annie leonhart x female reader

— request by anon: I kinda have a request. How about royal au? Where 2 kingdoms are at war with each other, and reader is the heir of the throne of one kingdom (but they’re not the spoiled type of heir, more like the solider one?) and then the kingdoms decided a truce. Reader will have to marry the heir of the other kingdom which is Annie. Idk maybe those arranged marriages that they never get along at first? Kinda like they were enemies bc they never get along until some development of feelings happen along the way. Maybe Annie will realize that she has feelings when reader got injured since they’re a soldier

— warnings: mentions of war, slight angst if you squint, just two idiots falling in love with each other :))

— summary: you were sent off to another kingdom as a sign of a truce, promising to yourself that the engagement is close to death at how you got off on the wrong foot with your betrothed. it was hell at first but who knows? maybe, unbeknownst to you, the two of you are a match made by the gods.

— word count: 7.5k

— author’s notes: i am so sorry this came out so long :((( we just finished our exams and we have a case study to write as our midterm for a subject. i hope this will still quench your annie fic cravings. and by the way, i fashioned the kingdom of idylle to mondstadt because genshin impact is my stress reliever right now and a kingdom built upon freedom sounds like a gem. plus, the glass castle of the reader is based off of the castle of cinderella, which is the reason for the title hhhhhh happy reading !!!

so this didn’t appear in the tags so i reposted it :”(((

Corsets were abominations that needed to be burned.

The girl with your features staring at you from the mirror was someone you couldn’t recognize from all the preparations your chambermaid did on your figure. The make-up was appalling and thick that you could see a smear on the back of your hand when you tried rubbing your itching nose. Your hair was done in a half up-do with too many decorative pins sticking out, creating a makeshift crown of silver roses, one of the symbols of your kingdom. The dress your mother expected you in was straight-up ridiculous, you couldn’t move from the tightness of the corset and the heaviness of your skirts was hindering you from moving freely. You couldn’t even deny that it was a lovely gown but its inconvenience was irking you at the slightest turn or stretch.

Dressing up this lavishly was rare for you, the Crown Princess of the kingdom boring flags of silver and lilac. You very much preferred the heaviness of your armor and your title as one of your kingdom’s Commendatore rather than the ladylike image your mother has been forcing you on the past few weeks.

You were livid when your parents renounced from the ten-year war that was purging the continent with just a sign on a piece of paper — one that included your name and your honor. Everything was brutal, carnage dotting every town and village of the two kingdoms throwing spears and fire cannons, and you witnessed it all firsthand when you started being one of your kingdom’s soldiers four years ago — a sixteen-year-old girl throwing orders that gave you an advantage from your enemies wearing the crest of the kingdom that painted your lands a heart-wrenching red. Of all solutions that your parents and the other kingdom could come up with, it involved you in the most unacceptable way possible. Officially entering your twenties this year, your parents thought it necessary to offer you as a bride that signified peace to the warring nation right beyond the border. The idea made your vision red, an outburst coming out of your mouth mere seconds after the proposal was announced in the council meeting.

A soldier, a knight, a commander — that’s what you are.

Not some forsaken young woman ready to be shipped off to your rival nation because it was the only way out of this bloody mess.

You had no choice.

The only way for you to grasp the final moments in your kingdom was relishing the touches of the chambermaid and taking in the décor of your room — the small trinkets scattered on your nightstands, the books you escaped to, the jewelry that boasted the colors of your family, and the stuffed animals your nanny sewed for you when you were a toddler. You closed your eyes and let the feathery fingers of the people around you lull you into a prayer for the gods in their celestial thrones, asking for their blessing in this far travel. In the middle of reciting an ode dedicated to the goddess of divine bravery, you felt a cool pendant carefully slide over your collarbones.

Your mother’s face appeared beside the watery princess of the mirror, a forced smile pulling on the corners of her lips. Your distinctly colored irises flickered down on the necklace your mother placed upon the exposed parts of your body. It was a flower-pressed necklace, the gold plate carefully protecting the flower representing your birth. The golden chain holding the necklace together was so thin that you worried for a moment that the fragile piece of jewelry might break in less than an hour while you meet your partner-to-be. You met your mother’s gaze in the mirror — from a chivalrous princess of armor to a dignified queen ruling within a land of eternal spring.

“You look so beautiful,” your mother breathed your name, holding your arms tightly against her ring-adorned hands. Tears blossomed her eyes, trickling down her cheeks akin to the lavender flowers’ petals of the large white tree in your backyard. “You look like the queen you were supposed to be.”

You tried smiling but your wobbly lips made you falter. You can only purse your lips in a tight, flat smile as you face your mother, face set in a kind expression. “Please don’t cry, Mother,” you murmured, placing your palm on top of hers, squeezing it for reassurance. “They wouldn’t do anything to me.”

They, meaning the kingdom you were at war with, the nation that claimed they needed a bride for their Crown Heir. In your world, there was freedom even in marriage — with the kingdoms pairing their sons with the sons of their enemies all for the sake of a truce, especially if the two of them were firstborns. This is very much your situation at the moment. The kingdom of Idylle was a beautiful haven of songs dedicated to the god of the winds, very contrasting to their military power that could take down a good number of your soldiers. You heard stories from some villages in your nation that Idylle was a hoax, that they were bloodthirsty warmongers hungry for the spilled blood of the people of Glaieul, your kingdom. You couldn’t help but believe their words. That was the only addition to your knowledge of Idylle except for their battle tactics and placement of soldiers on the battlefield.

“We’ll pray to the deities that they will do just that,” your mother laughed a little despite the tears. “Or else your father will wage war if they so much scratched you.”

“He wouldn’t do that, Mother,” you shook your head with a slight smile. “You two have worked so hard for this peace treaty. If I ever scratched myself in Idyllic lands, trust me that it would most likely be my fault. Not theirs.”

Your mother’s laugh twinkled in the room, painting everything in a light that erased the heaviness shrouding in every corner of your chambers. “I suppose so. You and your love for your sword are unrivaled. I can still remember the time when you first got the weapon, you were so thrilled for a six-year-old that one would think you were born in the barracks. I have to admit, you looked adorable swinging your sword until the greeting of the night and its stars.” She wistfully sighed, looking down at the necklace she gave you. “Your father was so proud when you came back for dinner that night.”

“My sword has always been a lifelong companion. I will even bring it to their castle.”

Your mother placed a hand on top of her chest, over her heart. “I hope you don’t unsheathe it in front of their royal family.”

You breathed a laugh. “No promises.”

The two of you talk about all the things that happened in your childhood, your laughs echoing through the hallways. The maids and the butlers bade you goodbye and safe travels as you passed by, never forgetting to nod in their direction in acknowledgment. You will miss their company for they saw you grow up before you decided to partake in the war. Almost all of them fussed over the mess you made while practicing your swordplay, cleaning up the broken vases and the mud on the carpeted floors. Even one of the apprentices of the Keeper of Books residing in the palace, Armin, enthusiastically waved at you, his friends flanking him for a visit in the kitchens. You didn’t miss how Eren directed an incredulous stare towards the blonde man, with Mikasa looking shocked at how easily the apprentice interacted with you in a public setting since your times with them only happened behind prying eyes.

You gave the three of them a huge smile that gave their faces a pretty rose shade.

Upon reaching the foyer, your father stood at the foot of the stairs along with the soldiers you acquainted in your time on the battlefield, sending a wave of warmth through your chest. His silver coat lined with gold details was a beacon and his white breeches were tucked in a pair of knee-length boots. His chest was decorated with his sash full of medallions, the kingdom insignia of lilac gladioluses and silver roses pinned on top of his heart. The king of Glaieul softened his eyes, crinkles appearing at the corners, at the sight of you and your mother descending on the stairs.

“My little flower,” was his greeting to you when you reached him.

“Father,” you breathed, picking up your skirts to settle in the embrace of waiting arms. You buried your figure against him, inhaling his scent of pine and rosewater, creating the last memory you will have of him. The two of you pulled away for a moment, your eyes watering at the sad visage your father sported. You felt the lightest brush of his kiss on your forehead. 

“Now I’m becoming reluctant in sending you off,” he told you. “I felt guilty when I saw you fight against this during the council meeting. But it is what they offered and I have no say in the matter.”

“I know.”

“May the eternal spring never waver in your soul.”

You nodded before taking a step back, bowing with your knees on the marble floors. Your crown glinted against the light from the stained-glass windows, your hair forming a curtain around your face as you replied, “I will let it fester among the ballads and idylls they will offer. I will carry the name of Glaieul with faithfulness, honor, and grace.” You raised your head to meet your father’s eyes. “I promise to never deter the eternal spring.”

It would be that way until your last years in that kingdom. And as you rode the carriage with the soldiers you fought with guarding the vehicle with their lives on the line, you could only sigh and offer another round of prayers that this swerves in a more positive direction than what you were expecting. After a hefty journey across the bustling capital (people stopped by and waved your carriage goodbye, offering you flowers that one of the captains of the fleet, Levi, scowled at — you coaxed him that it was alright, though) to the hectares of meadows in the countryside, the sight of flowers mixed with emerald turned into a sea of teal as you entered the outskirts of Idylle, your betrothed’s home. Everything was bathed with the endemic species of grass solely blessed by the god of the winds on Idylle — legends say that it was because He wanted the kingdom that worshipped him to look different than the rest. No matter how much you deny it, it was beautiful.

“How are you faring, princess?”

Your daze was interrupted by a baritone voice, deep enough to alert some of the men around the carriage. His gray eyes provided you support during the war. You couldn’t help but smile at the onyx-haired man riding by your right window. “Hello, Captain Levi.”

“Tch. Drop the title, brat. You and I both know that the war made us friends somewhat.”

You let out a small laugh. “Well, Levi, to answer your question, I’m quite fine even though my parents just sold me to gain peace.”

Levi rose an eyebrow at the remark. “I am not one to have the capabilities to comfort someone but think of this as a way for you to help the kingdom without sacrificing your life for once. A nation without its heir is just like losing its king. I’ve seen you train when you’re starting as a squire and to the point when you got the position you deserve. This would be like a small walk in the gardens of your mother.” He fixated his stare on you, eyes dull yet determined to get his point across. “You have a role in every part of your life and this time, this is what the gods crafted for you. Do not fret, princess, you have more chances of being on the battlefield again.”

The words Levi spoke settled in you until you reached the capital of Idylle, a small island in the middle of a clear azure lake with walls resembling a huge castle. The bridge leading to the gates was lined with guards bearing the kingdom’s crest, all of them standing under the flapping flags bearing the symbol and colors of the royal family they serve — a harp surrounded by the colors of gold and blue. Their eyes warily followed the series of carriages, postures becoming stiff in the realization that the entourage holds the visitor their rivaling country sent. That was still the scenario when the series of carriages and horses passed by the marketplace, the vicinity on the lowest part of the walled capital, as if the wind even ceased to let the people gawk at the brightly-colored entourage making its way to the highest tier depicting mansions and the main plaza where their patron god stood tall and proud in front of the palace’s gates.

Everything looked magnificent.

It was a breath of fresh air from the glass castle you grew up in. Whereas your kingdom built a white, blinding home that withstood for hundreds of years, Idylle’s palace blended with the brick walls with its leveled mansard roofs and turrets. The gates were made of gold, welcoming you into a huge square of maze-like hedges, a fountain sitting in the middle of the labyrinth. Some gardeners stopped their daily chores to greet the carriages with a wave of their hat, seeing as you were going to be an addition to the royal family after the wedding in a few months. The steps leading to the main doors loomed in front of you with only a few servants waiting for you to step out of the carriage.

You took in a deep breath, nodding at Levi to open the door. When it swung open, you placed your hand on top of Levi’s as he guided you down the propped steps on the side of the carriage.

“Well,” Levi hummed from behind you, making you glance at him with a curious eye. “May the eternal spring never waver in your soul, Your Highness.” He bowed in front of you, only a dip of his head, a firm hand on his heart, and yet that was enough for you to reciprocate it with a kind smile.  

“Safe travels back, Captain Levi. May the gods protect you.”

The servant boys standing on top of the stairs jumped an inch in the air, going down in fleeting steps to get your luggage when they realized they were staring too long at you. You smiled at them in gratitude before stepping inside the palace as the guards opened the huge, gilded double doors in front of you.

The inside was just elegant as the exterior appearance of the entire capital. Everything was bathed in gold that seemed to rival the Sun and it made you look away for a moment. The grand hall followed the kingdom’s colors, from the turquoise carpets leading towards two winding staircases to the golden ceilings decorated with paintings of cherubs and the story of how their god of the winds came to be. One of the servant boys slightly cleared his throat, snapping you out of your curiosity of the myths laid on the ceiling. You turned to him with raised eyebrows, spurring him to whisper a faint, “Follow us, Your Highness.” They led you through hallways hung with tapestries and paintings, drawing rooms where the queen hosted her tea parties (Levi would have loved it), and ballrooms that have the same aesthetic as the foyer. Finally, you stopped in front of one of the apartments in the palace, the servant boy who told you to follow them brightened at the guard stationed there.

“Reiner!”

You waited patiently and let your eyes roam across the hallway.

“Hello, Falco, Udo.” The man, Reiner, smiled at the young boys before turning to you. He placed a hand on his heart and bowed. “Welcome to Gale, the capital of Idylle, Your Highness.”

“Thank you for the welcome,” you replied, motioning for him that it was quite alright to straighten his posture. “The palace looks lovely.”

“Indeed, it is.” Reiner opened the doors of your room and once again bowed with an outstretched hand towards the room. “Here are your chambers and I will be your guard for the entirety of your stay here in the palace, Your Highness.” You muttered a faint ‘thank you’ as you entered a drawing room with a door to the private chambers on the left and the bathrooms to the right. There was a table fit for two people, armchairs, and drawers with vases on top. A huge floor-to-ceiling window illuminated the room, your feet carrying you there to open them, and letting the wind caress the curtains as they danced in the breeze. “If you ever need anything, you can call for my name and I will be here in an instant. Your chambermaid will be up here in a moment to help you prepare for the family dinner. For now, rest well, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, Reiner, Falco, Udo,” you smiled, retreating towards the private chambers.

You let out a sigh and stared at nothing for a few moments. It came down to this. To think that you were in enemy lands and was treated so well without any degradation came as a shock to you. The people so far that radiated negativity at your arrival were the guards stationed at the bridge and some of the townsfolk and nobles parading in the streets. As you think about the servant boys and Reiner’s calmness in receiving you in the palace, you immediately thought that it would be better than you expected.

You took off your heels under your dress, mind racing that this wouldn’t be so bad, and plopped on top of your canopied bed, its baby blue curtains protecting you from unknown disturbances and drowning you in a rapid of dreams.

-

The dinner didn’t go so well as you expected.

You donned a more suitable dress for indoor use, something that doesn’t include forcing your figure in a tight corset and yet presentable enough to be shown in the family dinner. You even placed a circlet of silver flowers on your head to compensate for the dull dress you chose, the description fitting after one of the chambermaids expressed their perplexity at how simple regarding design your dress has. Your light blue skirts fanned out around you as you made your way to one of the grand dining rooms reserved for family use. The choice of the color of the dress should be enough to express that you are willing to be on good terms with the family of the person you will marry.

But your first meeting with Annie Leonhart was interestingly disappointing.

Before departing from your kingdom, you learned the royal family and even Idylle’s customs. You learned how they always valued freedom and expression above all else, compared to your home that valued their ties with the gods more than the idea of getting rid of the shackles placed by your deities. You learned how they have this festival dedicated to celebrating the love they share with their patron god and how it spanned for half a month.

Finally, you learned about the indifferent Crown Heir of Idylle, the young woman with the piercing blue oceanic eyes sitting in front of you at the dinner table. She was known for building up walls that discouraged some of her engagements with other royalties across the continent. She was so closed off that she didn’t even glance in your direction for one second. Her hair was done in an elaborate bun wrapping around her head in a braid, her small, thin diadem resting against her golden hair. Annie kept her gaze on her plate, even playing with her food mindlessly for a couple of minutes before sighing and taking a bite of the chicken the maids served. No conversation was exchanged and the dinner ultimately became one of the most awkward meals you had. The king even tried to engage his daughter for casual talk but Annie dismissed them with a hum.

The queen had to apologize to you several times after the dinner, with Annie huffing at the back and eager to get out of the room. Despite how much she was against this engagement, you still bowed at her before you retreated to your room.

Now dressed in your nightgown, you stared at the canopy of your bed, already missing your home the more you fixed your attention on the bundled-up curtains. You badly needed to hit a straw dummy with your sword to let out your frustrations. Of all the royalties present in your continent, why did it have to be you that was shipped to this measly forced marriage? There were still so many solutions that could lead to a peace treaty but why was this the only one the kings and queens could present to their courts? A sigh escaped your chest once again at the thought of actually getting to know Annie. You laid on your side, curling your legs towards your chest and prayed that the god of dreams will visit you sooner than expected.

A knock reverberated through your chambers, the sound making you sit up.

You went to the receiving room and opened the door. You kept the small hitch of your breath in your chest at the sight of Annie and her half-lidded eyes. There was no one in the hallways. You figured that she sent Reiner away for some privacy, meeting the blue irises you likened to brilliant sapphires. 

“What brings you here, Your Highness?” you asked, opening the door wider.

“Annie.” She saw how your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Call me Annie, we’re betrothed after all.”

“Of course.” You smiled. “Annie,” you tested her name softly, missing the way she inhaled too sharply at your voice. 

Annie reciprocated the gesture by saying your name. The two of you stared at each other and it felt like an eternity before she looked away to focus on the receiving room behind you. She noticed how your eyes held kindness underneath the star-like shine even though she showed hostility during your first dinner with her family. Your hair was disheveled and it didn’t take her a minute to realize she might have woken you up from a good night’s rest. The journey from Glaieul to Idylle was a long one. You deserve all the rest you can get, “I apologize if I woke you up but I feel like I should do this before dragging it out.” You once again raised an eyebrow so she took out a leather box, opening it to reveal a ring with a holographic gem showing teal and pink in the middle. The Leonhart family ring. “Here.”

“Oh.”

You were gawking at the beautiful piece of jewelry, with Annie taking the matter in her own hands. She took the ring out of the box and pocketed the container. Her hand reached out to hold your palm against hers, sliding the ring in your ring finger. Your hand still hovered in front of you after Annie retracted hers to find their place by her side. She continued to eye your mesmerized visage with a half-lidded gaze, clearing her throat to catch your attention. You turned to her with a small apology for spacing out.

“It’s fine,” Annie waved off. “It’s yours starting today.” She turned away from you and went down the hallways but not before saying a “Good night, [Name].”

-

The entire week of your stay in Idylle was uneventful, to say the least.

Annie kept her distance from you after that night she gave you their family ring. It left you thinking that you should also gift her the [Last Name] ring your family treasured for centuries. The ring was placed in a small cushioned jewelry box that you opened and propped on one of your night tables. Your conscience was telling you to give it to her but there wasn’t exactly any moment alone with her let alone just passing by her in the hallways. The blonde princess made it her mission to never let your fates meet the more time you spent in the capital. You then decided that she probably didn’t want this engagement to happen.

But she gave you the ring. Wasn’t that a strong signal that Annie accepted you as her betrothed, unlike the others before you?

You shook that thought as you focused on giving consecutive hits on the dummy in front of you. Two days before, you proposed to the king to let you have a moment alone in the training grounds for about two hours or so to keep you in shape. He reluctantly agreed, but not without a side stare at the queen. They heard of your glorious feats during the war, how you managed to become one of the Commanders of a battalion of soldiers tasked with being in the frontlines and how you won constant ambushes against Idylle’s numbers. Two hours of training became three until here you are, still not stopping as you finished every single dummy in the private training grounds. With your day spent outside, you thought it would be nice to have a nice dip in the bathtub before dinner.

In your walk towards your chambers, you spotted Annie in one of the drawing rooms, sitting in the window seats with a book of war tactics in hand. You recognized the author as one of the revolutionaries mentioned to you by your tutor. 

“That’s a nice book,” you couldn’t help but mention. Annie turned to you unfazed by your interruption though there was a glint of interest in her eyes. “The book mostly describes battle formations but I think the author likened it to every situation on the battlefield. For instance, the phalanx was native to the empire of Great Findara and it was great for preventing casualties until it was overpowered by the infantry tactic of the city nation of Khisfire where every man has a role and a weapon depending on their group. The latter was more on the long-range yet melee way of taking back the territory.”

Annie hummed. “Do royal tutors of Glaieul teach this to their students?”

“Oh, no. I learned it while taking on the role of a squire.”

She once again hummed. “It completely slipped my mind that you are one of the Commanders in your military. You were ruthless as the folks in the noble plaza say, blood tainting your hands from doing raids in the border villages of Idylle.” Her tone was like a jab to your side, like an arrow tearing through your skin. “I know it was a time of war and desperate times call for desperate measures but our people didn’t deserve to experience the massacres.”

“They were far from being massacres,” you gritted your teeth.

Annie scoffed. “Then what were they? Because that’s what it looks like to me. I can still remember the story two years ago of a young girl wearing her lilac cape in the bloodbath, eyes so dull that you can see your reflection on it. What’s to say that this engagement is a hoax plotted by your parents to assassinate my family for you to win a territory you greatly needed because of the resources?” She closed her book with too much force, bitterly spitting out the next words, “The apple doesn’t fall from the tree as the saying goes.”

“If you question my being here then why did you give me your family ring, Annie?” you asked, your body now facing the tense young woman by the window. You cursed at how the light made her look angelic like the girl the god of the winds sacrificed his life to before he ascended to the heavens. “This peace treaty is everything my family wanted even though hundreds of our soldiers died in vain for not meeting the ends of what they fought for. If you’re saying that my parents placed me in an undercover predicament to add to the weight of deaths on my shoulders, I suggest you tell your father to put a stop to our betrothal. Because I don’t even want to be here, Your Highness, and it would do me such a huge honor. I would rather spend my time out with my fellow soldiers than pretending I’m some dainty princess my family sheltered when in fact, I was anything but that.

“Have a good day and I hope you enjoy the rest of the book. Chapter ten was a personal favorite of mine,” you dismissed, turning towards the direction of the apartments.

Once you reached your door, Reiner straightened his posture, faltering for a second when he noticed the cross look on your face. He chose not to say anything as he opened the door for you. You took off your boots right beside one of the armchairs of the receiving room and immediately went inside your private chambers. The glint of the ring on your night table mocked you. You stomped over the furniture and forcefully closed the small jewelry box, throwing the container inside one of the drawers.

Maybe sleep will be much kinder to you, the sheets enveloping you in an embrace you wish your mother can only give in this time of need.

-

You were radiant under the harsh heat of the Sun.

Annie was scheduled to have a free slot in her timetable after being included in one of the court meetings regarding the resiliency plan of some of the villages in the borders that managed to survive the Glaieulian raids. She suggested that the villages should be moved to one of the more remote villages nearer the capital, where the terrain is suitable for growing crops and starting small farms. There wouldn’t be an issue with overpopulation because the recommended village was home to the elderly and children. The newly situated families will also aid the old people as they go about their mundane activities. It was a sound suggestion and her father was also considering it. Annie hoped that would be the case as she scribbled a small note on a piece of paper. After the meeting, she stopped by one of the windows overlooking the training grounds, and there you are.

Your small argument that happened a few days before stirred some guilt in Annie’s stomach. 

You weren’t even part of the raids she was talking about. They were led by a commander by the name of Erwin Smith. The stories about you that she heard were from Idyllic soldiers that suffered a lot during the war, not from the people of the villages Erwin raided. Annie couldn’t deny it but she did step out of the line by accusing you of being an assassin. That was too far-fetched. She was just stuck in her suspicions when she was supposed to be getting to know you.

All she knew about you was that you were adept with a sword and can name any tactic written in books about wars.

Annie saw a maid cleaning one of the vases in the hallway. “Miranda.”

The maid turned around, curtsying in a haste before patting her uniform. “What can I do for you, Your Highness?”

“Can you prepare a tray of iced apple juice and some cakes?”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Annie nodded. “And can you place this note on the tray and deliver it to [Name]’s room?”

The maid was taken aback. “Well, it would be my pleasure, Princess.”

“Thank you.” With that, Annie walked away without a glance back.

Curious eyes followed the princess’ form, the maid finding herself looking at your figure sparring with Reiner and a smile instantly greeted her face. This could be a turning point in the betrothal because she could’ve sworn Annie had a small blush on her cheeks at the mention of the other princess. 

After your training, a tray of sweets and a pitcher with glasses of apple juice awaited you in your receiving room. You wanted to ask Reiner if he asked some of the chambermaids to prepare the afternoon snack but a folded note caught your eye. With one hand gripping the towel around your shoulders, you read the note, your face warming up at the short yet endearing sentence.

Indulge in these, they taste better after a good training session.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all, you thought as you munched on a sprinkled cookie.

-

Her eyes kept following a trail of gold tulle, silks, and laces, never looking away the moment her blue eyes laid themselves upon a beauty that rivaled the goddess of oneiric realms, the most ethereal goddess of the heavens. You were dressed in an off-shoulder gown with loose sleeves reaching your elbow, the bodice carefully wrapping around your torso in the most flattering way possible, and skirts adorned with silver gems. In a sea of aristocrats with fabulous dresses, you were a sight to behold in this ball dedicated to commemorate the truce between Glaieul and Idylle as well as announce the engagement between the two countries. You were starlight personified, shining in Annie’s eyes under the lights of tens of chandeliers in the ballroom. 

You were on the other side of the ballroom, laughing with your friends from your home kingdom. There was a tall brunette that seemed to be star-struck because of you just like Annie, a black-haired young woman who was smiling slightly, and a blonde who was engaged in an animated conversation with you. Your smiles were refreshing, to say the least, Annie seeing it for the first time since you came to their palace. Your laughs are genuine and it came out of you so easily when in the company of your friends.

Annie visibly stiffened when you turned around and smiled at her, gesturing for her to come to join the small huddle. Your three friends tensed noticeably at her half-lidded stare, with you reassuring them that she’s not that indifferent all the time. 

As if sensing Annie’s hesitance, Reiner chuckled behind her. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to introduce yourself to them, Your Highness.”

“I’m getting to that, Reiner.”

A laugh came from the blonde man. “She’s good for you. That much I can tell. The kindest soul I’ve ever met in my life.”

Again, guilt pooled in Annie’s chest. Those words are the opposite of what she spewed out to you the last time you talked. She called you a power-hungry monster who ravaged the war with no care on your shoulders. She didn’t even apologize yet. Annie sighed, “I know.” Then, she pulled up her skirts, navigated the ballroom, and stopped directly beside you. Her blue eyes scrutinized the three people you grew up with, with the brunette and black-haired woman stepping a small step forward to assert their dominance while the blonde pinched their backs to warn them not to step out of line in another kingdom. “Hello.” She transferred her eyes on you afterward, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back and rubbing it in a comforting motion. “I hope you enjoyed the ball so far.” Those words were directed to you.

You only nodded with a smile. “Annie, this is Eren, Mikasa, and Armin. They’re my friends when I was growing up in the glass castle.” Annie nodded. “Everyone, this is Annie, my fiancé.”

“We know,” Eren, the long-haired man in a low ponytail murmured with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Eren,” Armin reprimanded. He smiled at a stone-faced Annie. “Thank you for making [Name] happy! I can sense that she has a different air around her while we talked. It must be because of you.”

Annie stayed quiet, her hand coming into a still on the small of your back. It was a good thing her left hand was hidden away because they would immediately think that you didn’t accept the engagement. She glanced at the ring nestling in your finger, a perfect match against the golden train of your dress. Realizing that she created an awkward stretch of silence, Annie could only nod wordlessly before shifting her attention to you again. It seems like you’re the only one who can calm her nerves down inside the vast ballroom. She never took her gaze on you even as you continued the conversation between your friends.

Her mind was fogged with thoughts of only you throughout the ball.

The two of you excused yourself from the trio when Annie’s father called for everyone’s attention from the front of the huge chambers. “Everyone, kind souls and pure-hearted people of the continent, since tonight is all for enjoyment, the waltz of the ball will now commence.” His blue eyes went to his daughter, standing at the side of his throne. “The moment everyone is waiting for — the first waltz.”

She rehearsed this too many times for when a proper betrothal comes into play but why is her hand shaking when she outstretched it in front of you? You must have felt it because you flashed a comforting smile her way. The two of you went to the middle of the ballroom, the guests staring expectantly at the birth of a romance. They were wrong because you hate her and she hates you. Right? Her hatred for you will never waver for killing her people even though you look like a descended goddess with the lights of the chandeliers raining on you. Hatred must be fueling her heart to beat faster than ever, why she seemed to trip over her skirts and how her words stumbled in her tongue. That must be it.

The dance slowly made its way to the part where she struggled, dipping you as gracefully as she can. Before it happened, you whispered to her, “Please don’t make me fall.”

Annie’s voice was soft, for your ears only. “I promise, my princess.”

It truly was a birth of a romance, the two of you unaware of it all.

-

“Come on, Reiner!” You shouted at him from across the training field. “Come at me with all you’ve got.”

The blonde man hesitantly shifted into position as he eyed you. “Are you sure, princess? I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” He remembered the threatening look he received from Annie before this training session and he would like all of his limbs intact, thank you very much. “I just don’t want your chambermaid to nag me again after last time.” He managed a cut on your arm your previous session and you had to wear a long-sleeved dress in such stifling weather.

You scoffed lightheartedly. “I can handle it, Reiner. You don’t have to worry about it. Plus, I can dress my wounds perfectly.”

Reiner didn’t believe that. Your skills in covering up your wounds were lacking despite being a soldier. The most you could do was apply some salve on your bruises, that was it. He had no choice because the past month he spent his days with you, you were like a persistent little child that reminded him of his younger cousin. He hoped that you two wouldn’t meet. “Alright, here I go, Your Highness.”

Parry after parry could be heard in the private training field. You were doing fine in deflecting Reiner’s sword but your ankle immediately ached after shifting your body, leaning back to avoid the sharp edge of the knight’s weapon. You let out a huff as you dropped on the ground, jolting when Reiner called for you to stay alert. Seeing the glint of his sword, you rolled away and the pain on your ankle flared, even more, traveling through your calf. It also didn’t help that you received a cut on the side of your bandaged arm. You picked yourself up despite the throbbing pain on your ankle and arm, now being on the defensive as Reiner continuously struck you with his sword. He then circled his weapon around yours, throwing your sword on the side and pushing you to the ground with the tip of his weapon. That was the time where your ankle finally twisted into a sprain.

“Ah!”

“Princess?” Reiner’s tone became alarmed, dropping to your level and taking off your boots in an instant. His hands ghosted around your swollen ankle, not knowing what to do. “Gods, Annie’s going to kill me!”

“Annie?” You asked between pants. “What does this have to do with her?”

He only shook his head, carrying you in his arms and into the palace. His steps were hurried and the maids gasped at the sight of your red ankle. “Please prepare a bucket of ice and bring it to Princess [Name]’s private chambers.” He turned to you. “Hang on for a moment, Your Highness, we’re nearing your room. Just a little bit more.” Reiner entered your room and gently placed you on your bed. “I’m going to be taking off your other shoe, Your Highness.”

“Reiner, I think I’ll take it from here.”

Reiner stiffened, slowly turning his head to the entrance of your private chambers. Annie was impatiently standing with a bucket of ice in both hands, eyes glacially set on the blonde man kneeling on the floor in front of your confused form. She didn’t care if Reiner trembled in front of her. She vividly remembered telling the knight to never hurt you (she didn’t see the cut you had last training session because Annie was in another court meeting involving the incoming tax collection of various villages). Annie glanced at your ankle, barely grimacing at the state of it before gesturing for Reiner to get out of the room. The large blonde man took his leave, bowing at the two of your hastily and closing the doors with finality.

Annie mimicked Reiner’s position, kneeling in one knee to place your injured foot on her thigh. She didn’t wear any dresses for the day and it made her look dashing. The image implanted itself in your brain. Her hands are gentle against your skin, your cheeks flaring at the contact. Her features were contorted in a downturned one that showed how bothered she was. 

“How did this happen?”

Your eyes settled on the top drawer of your nightstand. “I dodged Reiner’s blow and I twisted my ankle in the process.”

“You should be more careful.”

“I’m always careful.”

Annie scoffed. “That’s clearly obvious.” She said nothing more while dipping your foot in the ice bath. She lifted her head too fast when you winced at the coldness of the water. “Deal with it. We wouldn’t want this to be worse than it already is.”

“Thanks for the concern,” you dryly mentioned.

“What makes you think that my being worried is all fake?” You’re silent, Annie choosing the moment to continue the words she didn’t have any control over. “When the maids prepared this bucket of ice in the kitchens, I was out of the council meeting. When I saw then bringing this up to your chambers, I was alarmed and my mind was a mess of thoughts concerning what happened to you.” At each word, her face held a multitude of emotions that you never saw on her. Her lips became pursed whilst you wordlessly stared at her. “I am not pretending to care for you. How could I pretend when I’m already feeling foreign emotions when it comes to you? It’s my first time feeling this way so I don’t know if I can categorize this as falling in love. But it feels like it. So, for the love of the gods, can’t you see that I’m rambling because of you?”

You didn’t reply, instead, you reached out to the drawer where you kept that ring.

“What are you doing? You should be still right now.”

You pulled out the jewelry box and flipped it open, showing the blonde the ring fashioned in a vine, the centerpiece being a group of small gladiolus flowers with diamonds in their centers. 

Annie’s cheeks reddened, flustered at the pretty jewelry. “What?”

Words never came out of you as you took Annie’s left hand. The ring looked pretty on her, the two of you admiring it after you slid the engagement jewelry in her ring finger.

“I now accept you as my fiancé, my future lover, and holder of my heart. Annie Leonhart, may our eternal spring bloom for centuries, and may your god of the winds bless us with his idyllic ballads.” Annie’s eyes were wide and you can see your reflection on them, along with constellations that lit up her irises. You placed your forehead against hers, looking straight into her flushed face. “They were right, this is the birth of a romance.”

And as you two kissed for the first time, the gods were rejoicing in their thrones, each of your prayers answered — your love finally etched in a whimsical melody. 

WIP Wednesday! 7/14/2021

Here is an excerpt from chapter 2 of the Yullen soulmate AU that I'm working on. Enjoy!

“I can’t believe you can drink something so boring.” Allen says as he watches Kanda sip the warm green tea that he brought for him. Kanda sits in his chair at his desk and Allen had pulled over an extra chair to sit with him.

“Not my fault that you can’t appreciate something unless its syrup.” Kanda throws back eyeing the drink in Allen’s hand. He’s wearing gloves again. He’s curious, but not enough to ask about it. When Allen takes a drink, he fully turns away from Kanda to raise his mask just enough to drink from it. It’s making Kanda feel like a spring being wound tighter and tighter.

“I can appreciate things!” Allen says. “It’s you who’s too stupid and pretentious, stupid Kanda.”

“Me?” Kanda scoffs.

Just then there’s a loud crash from the Chief’s office. Lieutenant Reever comes running out of Komui’s office chased by a drone.

“Chief, stop! I didn’t mean it!” Reever yells, covering his head with his arms from the drones whizzing blades. Komui comes out of his office with a proud grin and the controller held firmly in his hands.

“You can’t take my drones away!” Komui laughs after his cowering Trigger. His beret is slightly skewed on his head. “They’re too strong, Reever!”

“Komui, that’s dangerous inside the office!”

“What the hell is going on?” Allen looks on the scene with wide eyes. Kanda sighs and puts his cup down on his desk. Then he grabs a pen. Turning to the drone as it menacingly nose dives down at Lieutenant Reever, Kanda lines up the shot. He throws the pen like a spear right into the spinning blades of the drone. The thing shakes in the air for a second, before falling to the ground right next to Reever. The man scoops up the drone and runs off.

“Reever wait! Bring back my baby!” Komui wails. Then the Chief turns to Kanda. “How dare you injure my child, Kanda”

“Don’t terrorize your soulmate, Chief.” Lavi pipes up from his desk. He doesn’t look up from their files he’s already working on. Hopefully they can finish editing the hundreds of pages long file by the end of the day. Komui pouts till his eyes land on Allen watching the whole thing unfold.

“Allen Walker? Is that you?” Komui says, coming over to Kanda’s desk.

“Yes, I’m just visiting, sir.” Allen says so politely that it makes Kanda’s head snap to the Beansprout.

“Really? What’s with the mask? Are you sick?” Komui asks in rapid fire succession.

“Oh, it’s because…” Allen starts, looking over to Kanda shyly. This sudden change in Allen is so jarring to Kanda he almost drops the cup of tea he’d just picked back up. Allen clasps his own drink in front of him with two hands and looks up at Komui with respect.

“He’s Yuu’s Trigger.” Lavi leans over his desk, files abandoned now in order to join in the conversation, obviously finding far more entertainment in this than their work. This reveal doesn’t stun Komui, no doubt because Lenalee told him already. Instead, he turns to Kanda then with a look on his face like he’s trying to solve an intricate puzzle or win a difficult game of chess.

“He is, huh?” Komui says. “That certainly is interesting.”

“Lenalee already told you. Stop giving me that look.” Kanda says sharply. Komui calmly holds Kanda’s glare for a second before checking his watch.

“Oh, look at the time! Allen, don’t you have a class to teach soon? Do you need a ride to campus?” Komui asks. Allen whips out his phone from the pocket of his pants to check the time.

“Oh my god, you’re right!” Allen starts to gather his bag from it’s spot on the floor next to Kanda’s. “No, thank you for the ride, sir, I’ll just catch the bus from here!”

Kanda sits up stiffly. Bus? The Beansprout doesn’t drive?

“Will you make it in time?”

“Yeah, yes, sir. I will.” Allen says, getting up from the chair. He waves to Lavi before turning to Kanda once more. His eyes lock with Allen’s under his mop of white hair, and colors start to bloom in a halo around his head. The blue of the police insignia on the wall behind him, the bright yellow of his shirt, the pink of Allen’s ears, the red of his scar. Allen breathlessly says, “Bye.”

Once again, Kanda is left to watch him go, fingers itching with touch, want, keep. The colors that had so briefly been in view, fade out of sight as Allen gets on the elevator. When he’s left in just the black and the gray, he barely feels the warmth of the cup of tea in his hand.

“So,” Komui turns to him inquisitively. “You have another soulmate.”

“Komui.” Kanda warns, the alarms in his head warning him that Komui might say something that’s too far, too much.

“Does he know?” Komui continues despite Kanda’s warning. “Have you told him about Alma?”

The name coming out of his superior’s mouth sets his blood on fire.

“Allen doesn’t know, and he doesn’t need to know. He’s not my fucking soulmate.” Kanda seethes. He slams his cup down onto his desk. Some of the tea splashes past the lid and onto his hand. He ignores how it burns on his skin.

“Oh, Kanda…” Komui stares at him with sadness brewing in his eyes.

“If you don’t mind, Chief,” He emphasizes Komui’s title. “Go back to your office so I can get to work.”

Komui makes the smart decision to leave back to his office. Kanda goes back to the pile of papers on his desk, stewing in his anger.

“You’re really not gonna tell Allen?” Lavi says. Kanda cuts a glare up at his partner. “He deserves to know, you know.”

No. No he doesn’t. He doesn’t need to know anything.

ᴛʀᴀɴꜱꜰᴏʀᴍᴇʀꜱ ᴘʀɪᴍᴇ || ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ

Prompt: 

What if a Cyborg was thrown into a different universe where the Autobots reside, and when they do cross paths would they be friend or foe?

        Everything seemed fine, or so you thought. One moment you were helping out your comrades and the next thing you knew you had suddenly awoken out outdoors in the middle of the night. You stood up, dusting off the dirt from the sleeves of your black trench coat and inspected the new terrain. It was a dense forest, owls were hooting above the trees, and the sounds of wild wolves could be heard from afar.

You weren’t certain how you got there and attempted to contact the professor but was met with radio silence. Wasting no time as you began to wander the area in hopes of finding civilization. There, you stumbled upon a town, however, upon further inspection you noted that it had been abandoned for quite some time. Any hopes of finding any sort of communication in this particular area is meaningless.

When you were about to turn around to leave is when you heard heavy footsteps which caught your attention. You followed the sound and hid behind a tree, peeking your head out the corner to see a green robot organism running on the path of the railroad tracks to which lead to a rail tunnel. When the robot entered the tunnel that’s when you followed making sure to keep a low profile.

Halfway inside the dim tunnel is when you find a door where you approach it and twist the handle. Conveniently, it was open as you made your way inside the hidden facility. Along the way you had encountered a few men in suits and easily dispatched them with ease, without killing them of course. Upon arrival, you can see through the crack of the door that there were monitors displayed to your left and moved your gaze to see various suited men taking apart another robot, who was fully conscious. The sight caused you to build up the anger within you, it irked you at how these humans treated other lifeforms like guinea pigs.

One of the men in suits approached the door before you slammed it open with your feet sending the man hurtling towards the monitors. The sudden commotion caused everyone in the room to stop and turn towards you.

“A civilian? How did she infiltrate our base of operations?!” Yelled a man in annoyance.

Two suited men attempted to grab you, in return, you knocked them down with little effort. This caused the men to open fire at you and dodging every bullet that was fired and disarming them in the process. Then you jumped to avoid being grabbed and landed perfectly on the opposite side of the platform. You raised your head and realized that the man with a scar over the bridge of his nose had thrown a grenade towards you. Instantly, you raised your left arm and grab the grenade before crushing it within your grasp which caused it to explode.

The man chuckled. “Foolish girl.”

However, the victory was short-lived when the smoke had dissipated revealing your figure completely unscathed by the close ranged detonation.

 His dark eyes traveled down to your forearm and was taken back by what he was seeing. The sleeve of your trench coat had been torn off where it revealed your mechanical arm, its glistening dark blue hue with a skin-like silicone and metal plating cover both the exterior and interior of your limb. This newfound discovery about what you are certainly intrigued him and the malicious smirk said it all.  

Suddenly, there was a loud and continuous banging coming from further down the tunnel. The monitors were airing a live video feed and it showed the green robot making his way towards where you were.

“More crisp for the mill.” Muttered the man in displeasure as he fled with the rest of his men.

By the time you ripped your gaze away from the video feed, the man had disappeared from the scene along with his henchmen. 

There were heavy footsteps approaching and you simply watched as the green robot finally came into view, with his blaster out ready to aim on sight. Yet, he hadn’t really noticed your presence since his attention was purely directed towards the other unfortunate robot that was strapped on the table. 

“It must be your lucky day.” 

Then he proceeded to rip off the restraints and walk around the table to where his feet were and tears off the others. 

“What are you doing?” He inquired.

Perhaps they’re friends? You thought to yourself and continued to watch silently as the green robot offered his hand for him to take.

“Getting you outta here. Yeah, I don’t believe it either.”

She watched the exchange as they now stood beside each other. Then other robot, who was missing his right eye, turned to her.

“And you, human, thank you for… for saving my tailpipe earlier.” He muttered out through much hesitance, but was undoubtedly grateful for your assistance.

The green one turns to you in disbelief, finally taking notice of your presence. “What—wait, you saved him?!”

Suddenly the alarms blared out and both robots ran towards the exit with you trailing right behind them. Along the way, you encountered more soldiers, however, their focus were directed at the two robots. Since you were fairly hidden in the dark, wearing dark clothing and all. Either way, you made sure not to be seen by them. Once you were out in the open, the two robots were surrounded by green military vehicles, as well as, helicopters flying above them and were rapidly firing at them.

You on the other hand remained out of sight, not really wanting to partake in the event as you watched the scene unfold. Eventually they fled the scene for unknown reasons which left only the robots behind. The sound of jets soaring across the skies can be heard followed by the sounds of metal shifting in the air; five new robots had landed. The exchange was short and the green robot took on the enemies alone, including the one that he just rescued which he tossed around like a rag doll towards the others. 

“Come on, I’ll scrap all of you!” He yelled, summoning his mace on his left forearm preparing to take them all at once.

The adversaries didn’t get the chance to fire when another pair of robots entered the scene. You watched as the jets retreated, transforming and soaring high into the night sky whilst the other drove off from the scene. 

“Engaging the enemy on your own was even more foolish this time, Bulkhead. But I am honored that you saw fit to rescue your rival. You have truly risen above yourself.” The baritone voice said, which belonged to a red and blue robot, fairly taller than the rest.

“Did you see? I beat Breakdown and bashed him all with his own hammer! I won the rematch!”  The green robot, known as Bulkhead exclaimed enthusiastically.

“I’m sure Miko would be proud.” The two-wheeler said, with her arms folded in front of her chest.

You took this opportunity to approach them.

“Excuse me,”

Their heads turn towards you where stand right before them, although far enough so that your head wouldn’t cramp up from their tremendous height. You can faintly hear Bulkhead cursing under his breath, seemingly forgetting that you had existed.

“I apologize for my unannounced visit, but I seemed to have lost my way. Can you help me?” 

The other robots exchanged suspicious glances to one another. It was only natural for them to feel wary of you, in fact, this outcome didn't really surprise you. But this was the only logical way. They were the only ones that could help and no human could help in your predicament in fear of turning you in because of your uniqueness. 

“You allowed a human to see you?!” Whispered yelled the white and orange robot, looking furiously at Bulkhead.

Bulkhead averted his gaze elsewhere and was rubbing the side of his head. “Ratchet, if it weren’t for her, Breakdown would’ve been long gone before I got there.”

This earned a couple of gasps from the group, except for the taller robot,  who merely stared at you through curiosity.

You stepped forward, “Please, don’t hold him responsible. He did what was necessary. I should be the one to take blame.” You argued, motioning with your right hand towards yourself to secretly hid the exposed one.

Bulkhead was taken back from you defending him that it made his stagger from where he stood. No one has ever done that before except for his human charge. 

“What is it that you want in return?” The taller one gestures his hand towards you.

“All I ask for is for you to take me with you, maybe even allow me to seek shelter. If that is alright with the rest.” You glance over to the others who stared at you cautiously. Then the female robot stepped forward pointing an accusing finger at you.

“How do we know you’re not some sort of MECH agent?”

“Is that what they are called? Interesting… Then explain to me, how can I be speaking to you all instead of attacking you? Shouldn’t I have retreated with the rest of those MECH people?” 

No one seemed to catch your genuine reaction, it was made quite clear, however the only one that truly noticed the change in your tone was the to the red and blue robot. He quickly knew that you were telling the truth.

“Very well.”

The others didn’t argue further with his decision before contacting someone. 

Suddenly a green vortex appeared just behind them and proceeded to enter it. With that you followed behind as you entered the vortex, it left a pins and needle kind of sensation throughout your body. On the other side, you arrived inside a missile silo with platforms throughout and with monitors nearby. Staring down you can make out a strange insignia embedded in the middle of the room. Your mind wandered off until a young voice spoke.

“Bulkhead, you’re back! Did you beat Breakdown?” Based on her features and her accent. You concluded that she was of Japanese descent. 

While the girl spoke to Bulkhead, you proceeded to walk up the flight of stairs where you were met with the girl who was ecstatic in seeing you. Her nose nearly touching yours. She clearly didn’t understand what personal space was, that or she really didn’t care. You can feel the others' intense gaze on you, seeing that you're a stranger in their base. They had every right to be defensive when the girl was ogling you so closely.

“No way… another human! Sweet!” She exclaimed before bombarding you with questions. “Who are you — where are you from — how did you meet the bots?” 

The list went on until you decided to extend your left hand and then pressed your index finger against her lips.

“You’re an energetic one.” She pulls back as you lower your arm back to your side.

“Actually I consider myself an adrenaline junkie.” She points her thumb to her chest with a grin.

You went to say something but was interrupted by a new voice, an angry one too.

“What in the name of Sam hills is going on here?!”

You turned to see a tall man with dark skin as he pushed himself off the couch where he undoubtedly slept on judging by the wrinkles in his shirt. He narrowed his gaze at you for a while before moving his gaze towards the group of robots.

“Prime, you better have a good explanation why there’s another human here.” The man demanded at the red and blue robot, being displeased to see they had brought a newcomer into their base.

“Human? Is that what you think I am?” You noted with a raised brow towards the man, then your attention was focused on the group. Might as well reveal your true self before any assumptions were made.

“I can assure you,” 

Then you proceed to unwrap the belt from her trench coat and then peel off the coat, allowing it to fall on the floor. Underneath, you wore a black turtleneck crop top, long jeans and black combat boots. It’s true that you do resemble that of a human because of your features, however, from the collar bone below you had a body that was purely made out of silicone and metal. Strapped around your waist was a curved short sword tucked away on the right side of your waist. 

“That I am in no way shape or form considered human.”

Everyone stared at you with a mixture of awe and utter disbelief, however,  girl didn’t seemed bothered, in fact, she was thrilled! She takes your wrist and inspects your left forearm with interest where she then begins to trace your skin. It tickled at first but the feeling had adjusted to the foreign touch, noting that the girls fingertips were rough and calloused. Possibly from doing manual labor or something else entirely?

“Whoa, your skin is soft… freaky.” She mused as she continued to examine your arm.

“Miko,” The tone in Bulkhead’s voice was stern, it’s only natural for him to be protective of the human girl.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind being handled.” You assured him, by glancing over to him from the corner of your eye and then back at Miko. Once again being bombarded with quite a few amusing questions to say the least.

“Does your arm turn into a blaster just like the Autobots — what about a sword — whoa, so you do have a sword! And—”

You proceeded to interrupt her, “You ask far too many questions. But wouldn’t it be fitting if you let me explain first and ask questions later? I promise to answer them fully.” 

Miko couldn’t contain her smile as she furiously nods before stepping away from you, eagerly waiting for you to start. With that out of the way, you turned to face the group of robots and began to explain.

“As I stated before, I am not human. I’m a Cyborg, a being with both biological and artificial parts. In order to function as I am, the only part that’s human within me is my brain, nothing else.”

“My sudden arrival here was uncalled for and I have yet to find the main cause of it. I was unable to contact the professor leaving me no choice but to wander. Then I stumbled upon an abandoned town where I encountered your friend here. I knew that if I had any chance to contact anyone from home it would be with him, and this happily led me to all of you.”

“How come you weren't able to contact anyone? Aren’t you Cyborgs’ capable of communicating off-world?” The dark skinned man asked. 

You turned to meet his gaze, only showing a side view of your frame to him. “Yes, however, we still require a main communication hub to be able to do so. The equipment which I currently lack. All I ask for is to be allowed to take sanctuary here until I am able to communicate with the professor.”

His face hardened before crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Fine. But I have to talk to the boys back at the pentagon. They’re gonna have a hard time having you around, especially for what you are. Which means that they’ll have to debrief you to make sure you don’t cause any trouble.”

“Do what you must. I will graciously comply to whatever they ask.” 

The Prime stepped forward, where he stood right in front of you the only thing that separated them was the metal railing between them. You moved your gaze away from the man and towards the larger robot before you. His azure eyes studying you from head-to-toe, not in a suspicious way, it was more out of genuine curiosity.

He kindly introduced himself to you and then presented the others to you. As he then began to the entire story of their race even including their ongoing war with the Decepticons. Once he was done with his explanation, Miko had purposely nudged your shoulder to get your full attention.

“So, what’s your name, Cyborg girl?” 

Those brown eyes that showed so much curiosity that it reminded you of  yourself. The memories of when you were just as curious to explore and learn about the world that you were created in. That curiosity and excitement that was written across her eyes, Miko deeply represented your younger self. So it was no surprised that neither Miko or Optimus could’ve noticed a ghost of a smile appearing on your normally neutral features.

Perhaps being stationed on this planet for an extended period of time wouldn’t be so severe, as long as you had company. Maybe even make new friends along the wall as well.

 “Ariel.”

(2,882 Words)

Death Of The Lie  ||  Chapter 27: Jotunheim

AUTHORS: @fandom-and-feminism & @fadingcoast

Summary: Odin and his daughter Hela are the perfect conquerors of the universe. The nine realms fall one after the other into their clutch. After Odin takes a second wife and has a son with her, he doesn’t need Hela anymore. Hela abandons her father and ends up marrying Laufey, a sworn enemy of the Aesir people. Not long after, she becomes pregnant with Laufey’s child. Odin cannot let that son be born, but against all odds, the boy survives. Odin is forced to bring him back to Asgard to be raised as his own until he could make further use of him. The half-Jotun-half-Aesir boy grows up to look and act a lot like his mother, which disturbs Odin, and makes him treat the boy horribly. Odin’s lies are deep and complex, but one day the boy will find out the truth about everything he is.

PAIRING: Multi RATING: Teen

MASTERLIST

Feedback is always appreciated and reblogs are encouraged!!

.-

Chapter 27: Jotunheim

With the first light of dawn came a renewed sense of purpose for Loki. He hadn’t slept a wink but he found himself buzzing with energy, and when he ventured out to the lush castle grounds he saw Hela gazing up at the sunrise. He wondered if she, too, had stayed up all night thinking about their next move.

A slight breeze brushed Hela’s hair across her gaunt shoulders, carrying the scent of honeysuckle and the nearby river, and when she turned her head toward Loki she was smiling. After a moment her smile faded, however, and a somber mood settled over the garden. It was then that Loki sensed her restless energy, and he could tell she was itching to do something, and whatever it was wasn’t going to be easy.

“You must know as well as I do that Asgard isn’t going to just hand me the throne,” Hela said, rubbing her hands together as she began to pace. “Mages or not, the Alfar are outnumbered. I will not lead them into slaughter.”

Loki had had the same thought the night before. As grateful as he was to have Sigyn and Freyr’s support, their army was no match in numbers to Asgard’s. “I’m glad you agree,” he confessed.  “I take it you have another plan?”

Conflicted thoughts warred in Hela’s dark eyes. Determined as she was, something was still holding her back, fear or apprehension or perhaps regret. Slowly she nodded her head. “I do.”

“Am I allowed to know this plan, or am I to follow blindly?” Loki didn’t intend to come across so harshly, but every second passed meant another opportunity wasted, and it wouldn’t be long before the King and Princess would wake. 

Hela looked toward the sky once more, the sun’s rays casting her pale face in a warm light that almost seemed to turn her cheeks pink. For a moment Loki regretted his words; after all he had been through his tongue was often sharp enough to hurt others when he wasn’t careful, and though he barely knew her, she was his mother.

Almost if he hadn’t spoken at all, Hela continued. “We must return to Asgard. Odin’s Vault. There’s an army beneath its floors, long buried, waiting for someone to give them life. With them I - we - can secure the palace. But we can’t just walk in and do what we like. My power is somewhat weakened outside of Asgard, and you can teleport. What is the closest you can get us to the Vault?”

“My- my chambers,” Loki said, slightly stunned. Doubt crept in his mind but there was no time to give in to it. “They have been sealed with a spell since-” The memory choked him, so he moved on. “It will be safe to teleport there.”

“This is the only way,” Hela assured him. “The only way to right all the wrongs, to make up for the sins of the Allfather. You can stop running. We can stop running.”

Loki turned to look at the castle that had once been his home. Yet again he had to leave, to fight that part of him that longed to stay. And now he had reason to doubt that, once all was said and done, he would even be welcomed back. When he turned toward her again Hela had her long arm outstretched to him, waiting for his hand. With a final nod he placed his hand in hers, and in a flash of green, they left Alfheim behind.

.-

Loki had spent so much of his life traveling these halls without being seen that he could venture through them now with little effort, even with Hela in tow. It wasn’t an easy feat, as they could barely fit through some of his hiding places, but it took them straight to the vaults unnoticed by the several Einherjar that patrolled the corridors. As soon as they were inside the Vault, Loki sealed the room with a spell.

Hela looked around and couldn’t help but smirk dryly at the garish displays of brute force, left largely untouched over the centuries. War trophies from Odin’s reign - some from even before she was born - sat proudly on pedestals all over the room like they were altars to a past that should be revered. Imagining the lies he must have sold to the people about how he won these stolen goods felt like someone had spat in her face.

Loki stood to the side of the center pathway, watching his mother closely as she examined some of the newer items she hadn’t seen before, such as the Warlock’s Eye which had been acquired by Thor and his lackeys many years ago. He wondered what was going through her head, the complicated rush of emotions she was doubtlessly experiencing seeing the fruits of her father’s tyranny again as if no time had passed. A knot formed in his stomach as he remembered that he was one of them. 

Hela walked resolutely to the end of the corridor and knelt to the floor, pressing her fingertips to a decorative stone circle just before the gate where the Destroyer used to be kept. She murmured a brief spell and the stones fell away, revealing a massive dark cavern beneath the floor. Loki swore in surprise and ran closer as Hela stood back up and went over to the pedestal that held the Eternal Flame. With no hesitation she placed her hand in the fire and pulled it back out unharmed, with a small piece of the Flame flickering in her palm. 

The bright flame lit up the crypt below just enough for Loki to see. The floor at the bottom was covered with hundreds of rows of long-dead soldiers in their place of honor, skeletons still in their armor, all with their heads facing the empty space in the middle where the King’s insignia was carved into the floor.

A battalion waiting for their King’s command.

Once again Hela knelt, gently placing her palm - and the Flame - to the edge of the circle at their feet.

“Ennösta.”

The entire crypt lit up, glowing dark orange, as the flames spread through the cracks. Loki was unsure what to expect, so he took a few steps away from the circle. Hela rose to her feet and waited patiently, the sound of voices growing louder by the second. At last, one ghoul rose from the crypt and stood tall and proud in front of Hela, silently waiting for her command.

Loki didn’t dare move as he observed the creature.

The ghost was surrounded by a green eerie light, the same that glowed brightly in his eyes. His body seemed transparent, but not quite. As it moved, sometimes you could see flesh, and in other places bones showed through. Loki could recognize what he was wearing as Asgardian armor, but not the one he remembered seeing his whole life. The winged helmet reminded him of Odin’s, but the knots and swirls and symbols that covered the rest of the armor were entirely unfamiliar.

This was old. Likely older than Odin himself. Did Odin even know this was here?

Hela crossed her wrists in an ancient Aesir greeting. “You know my blood, Hersir. I am your Queen. Asgard is threatened. Take your men and secure the castle. Kill none that are unarmed.”

The ghoul nodded once and marched toward the Vault door. Hundreds of soldiers rose from the crypt and followed him in a perfect line, their feet making no sound as they went. Loki didn’t even have to lift his spell on the door - they simply went through it. Hela watched proudly as each one passed and sighed with relief.

Loki tore his eyes away from the risen army and he saw the Casket Of Ancient Winters. Guilt swelled in his chest. He killed their king, he tried to destroy their planet. If he could only do one thing to repair the damage…

“I have to take it back.”

Hela followed Loki’s gaze and frowned. “How, exactly, are we going to do that? I believe your teleportation won’t work all the way to Jotunheim.”

Loki was surprised at noticing Hela’s choice of words. But he didn’t have time to ask. A plan formulated in his head, and a smile spread across his face.

“We’re going to steal a ship.”

.-

With the castle secured by the army of the dead, Loki and Hela had little trouble sneaking to the hangar and stealing one of the skiffs. Loki had discovered several ways in and out of Asgard when he was a teenager, and remembered with shame and regret the first time he used the one leading to Jotunheim, not even imagining how his life would be completely torn to pieces by his actions.

It was a stupid joke!

They rode the small ship through a path in the forests around the castle to a portal in the side of a mountain, and with a flash of white, they landed on Jotunheim. It was nearing dusk, in the middle of a fierce snow storm, but Loki tried not to draw attention to the fact that he didn’t need to bundle up like Hela did.

Hela sighed deeply and clutched her cloak to her chest. “It’s worse than I thought,” she muttered.

Loki said nothing. He remembered Hela telling him Jotunheim was dying, and had been dying for over a millenia already. It was hard to imagine how the planet could ever have been any different to the frozen wasteland that laid before them.

Looking around, Hela tried to recognize the landscape, searching for a glimpse of anything familiar. It was difficult to see through the blinding winds, but she looked up at the sky and told Loki they would need to head in the direction of the setting sun. Not wanting to alert anyone of their presence, they decided to abandon the skiff and go on foot.

“Princess Sigyn, then,” Hela said out of the blue only a few minutes later, with a smirk Loki didn’t see.

Loki couldn’t help but blush all the way down his neck. Small talk, we are doing small talk. He took a moment to decide how to answer her. None of the options he thought of was a short way to explain.

“My inherited powers were out of control when I was a kid,” Loki began. “Frigga thought it was best for me to learn Seidr, and control it. She said--” He sighed. “She said so many things…” He decided to leave out the bullying, the years of self harm and wanting to end it all, just to make the pain stop. It didn’t exactly make for pleasant conversation. “They sent me to the sanctum in Alfheim, to train and learn how to harness the power of my magic. I stayed with King Freyr and the Princess, and I suppose we became rather close.”

Loki couldn’t exactly pinpoint why it was so easy to tell Hela everything, even things he hadn’t shared with anyone else. The more he said, the more he wanted to keep talking. He told her about Erik, and Gwyn, and how Sigyn became more to him than just a friend. Freyr’s offer to let Sigyn marry him. The pain he experienced having to come back to Asgard indefinitely, forced to fall into his royal duties and once again become second best to Thor. He confessed his original plan to thwart and postpone Thor’s coronation, and how it led to the discovery of his true identity, or at least part of it.

Hela listened to him in silence, somehow enjoying Loki’s recounts, and hurt for having missed it. Every day during her pregnancy she had imagined what his life would have been like, dreamed of watching him grow into a strong Jotun prince, away from the corrupt influence of Odin’s tyranny and his endless obsession with becoming the fiercest Allfather the nine realms had ever seen. Instead Loki was raised as an unwanted son, learned to hate himself from a young age because he was different. Though she had been the one to take Odin’s last breath, it still would never make up for what he did to her son.

The crumbling ruins of the Jotnar Temple were clearer and closer now. The blizzard had slowed down, and the fresh snow piled up against the walls. Loki and Hela looked around, trying to catch any signs of movement, but there was none. No soldiers, no guards. The temple was empty and void of life.

Hela’s footsteps made no sound on the fallen snow as she entered the foyer. She looked up, noticing the massive hole in the ceiling and the crumbling columns that barely still held up the whole structure. She realized the only reason the temple was still standing was the rock being frozen solid to the ground.

Loki moved as quietly as possible as he followed Hela. The tiniest flutter of recognition hovered at the far reaches of his mind, but he couldn’t place it yet. Hela walked solemnly to the middle of the temple, where the altar stood. She knelt behind it and pushed on the huge flagstone. The concealed door opened to a small dark space.

“This is where I sent you, after you were born, when Odin came for me. I had hoped you would be safe, protected by the Casket.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I was wrong.”

At her words, a flashback of a dream, or a dream within a dream, came over Loki. An image of a dark room and a bright blue light. He never knew what it meant, or why it was so ingrained in his brain. Now, it made sense.

Without a word, he summoned the Casket in his hands. As the cold spread his skin turned blue, with distinct markings on his hands and forearms.

Hela replaced the flagstone altar, and Loki lowered the casket and placed it inside, locking it to the rectangular space where it belonged. The casket emitted a brighter, bluer light that seemed to spread through the frozen foundations of the temple. Somehow, it knew it had come home. Hela let out a sigh of relief and stood up, smiling at Loki as she took in his blue skin and red eyes.

“There you are,” she said quietly, folding her hands together. “That’s how you looked the last time I saw you. You take after your father.”

A small measure of heat rising in his cheeks, Loki looked away, back at the Casket. He had so many questions about that night, but he wasn’t sure where to begin, and the emotional weight of letting someone see him like this was too much at once. “So,” he changed the subject, “what happened after that?”

Hela’s expression darkened. “I would realize too late that Odin would come here to steal the Casket. Once he found it, he found you.”

“Why didn’t he kill me?” Loki muttered, staring at his hands as they came back to their regular color.

“The old fool could never.” Hela half smiled. “Just as he didn’t kill me, he wasn’t going to murder his own lineage. He was too proud to spill a drop of his blood. It doesn’t matter if you were-”

“-A mistake.”

“You were not a mistake.” Hela turned and gave Loki a hard glare. “Listen to me, you were not a mistake. Never. You were conceived by love, and loved from the very moment we knew you existed.”

Loki felt a tightness in his throat. Love. The one and only thing that he craved to get from his family. But instead he got lies and rejection. He clenched his fists. Yet another thing that was stolen from me.

Hela sighed deeply. “I spent a thousand years going over everything,” she explained. “Trying to figure out how to escape. What I could have done differently to make it work. I regret many things that I did and many more that I didn’t. The one thing I never regretted was you.”

Loki stared blankly, not quite sure how to process that. Hela shook her head and looked down.

“I know I’m asking for something seemingly impossible,” she continued. “If it were up to me I would erase everything Odin ever told you, everything he ever did to you. But I can’t.” As much as Hela tried to hide it, Loki could see how much it pained her. “All I can give you is the truth. I have no reasons to lie to you.”

That’s so much more than anything anyone in my family ever did for me.

A distant rumble distracted them, and the ground began to shake.

“The Jotuns have noticed us,” Hela said, and ran to the archway. “They will be here soon. We must go.”

Loki took her hand and they fled the temple to a safe distance, where the magic from the Casket didn’t interfere with his own. Before the Frost Giants could find them, he teleported them together back to his chambers in the palace.

.-

<< Chapter 26  –  Chapter 28 >>

.-

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Andromeda’s Origin Fic

Hydra...

They were hydra…

Andromeda put a hand over her mouth to keep herself from gasping. She was only a wall and an open door away from the discussion taking place. Her parents were just beyond that wall. They were Hydra… They didn’t work for NASA or for some new space department of the government, no. They worked for the secret Nazi organization that had fallen into obscurity so long ago. 

The facility was makeshift and thus not heavily guarded or under heavy surveillance. It was why she wasn’t caught yet. She had just been exploring while she thought her parents were doing something boring. She didn’t plan to find some deeply hidden government secret. She didn’t plan to find anything at all. She just wanted to catch a glance at the newest spacecraft that her parents talked about. 

She didn’t plan on her world crumbling. 

Her parents were the bad guys. Her mother, a tall proud Indian woman, who refused to wear anything other than a full saree and a pound of jewelry, wasn’t an astrophysicist for NASA… no, she was part of a deeply embedded part of the government made up of Nazis. Her father wasn’t the head engineer in charge of the most recent space-traveling equipment, he was a lead Hydra scientist. 

Andromeda couldn’t believe it. Her parents weren’t evil. They were Indian immigrants with genius-level IQs that she just happened not to inherit. They spoke rapid-fire Hindi and their English was spoken with a heavy accent. They argued about music and food and wanted Andromeda to have more of a dating life, they had favorite movies and collected little things from everywhere they went. They weren’t evil. 

She was spiraling. The room was shrinking in on her. That was before the alarms went off. Red lights and screeching sirens filled the concrete halls. 

Andromeda didn’t think, she just ran. She didn’t know where she was going, the only direction she recognized was ‘away from here’. Her heart was beating in her throat so loudly that she could feel it even with the sirens. 

There were too many halls that looked the same, she made so many random turns. She only stopped to avoid a heavily armed squadron of hydra security guards. After an eternity of running and hiding, she got to a room. It wasn’t a research room, it wasn’t filled with computers or partially finished machinery. It was a hanger with a single aircraft in the center. 

It was like a rocket and an airplane fused together, it was like it was straight out of Star Wars. It had massive wings and almost just as massive thrusters on the top. It was white with an insignia of an eagle of the side. 

She heard rapid footsteps behind her. She ran to the only place she thought she’d be safe. Into the aircraft. The room was already a dead end, there was only one exit. The yelling got closer. She could recognize her father’s pleading voice in the chaos. 

She had just enough time to slip into the ship before the men entered the room. The ship was big enough to fit a few dozen people but what really piqued Andromeda’s interest was the cockpit. It was too familiar. But she had never been in an aircraft like this before, she had only piloted a simulator at the Junior NASA camp. 

The simulator. It was modeled after this aircraft. Every detail was the same. Had she been secretly being trained to fly this thing? The only thing different was the guns. It had them. The simulator was just for a fusion spaceship that she thought was completely theoretical. It was meant for exploration, it wouldn’t need guns. But this one did.

Loud pounding on the metal door interrupted her train of thought and reminded her of her pure panic. There was muffled yelling, some from her parents, pleading with her to get out of the spaceship and that it’s okay and that she’ll be safe if she did but there was more yelling that directly contradicted that. 

She wasn’t going to give herself up, she didn’t exactly have a choice. Hydra was so bent on not getting discovered that they wouldn’t hesitate to kill some teenage girl that got in their way. 

So instead of surrendering, she started the spaceship up and sat in the pilot’s seat with the co-pilots seat empty. There was several empty spacesuits in the back, but she wasn’t prepared for an intergalactic flight. She didn’t even know where she’d go. Where would she even get help? From what she heard, Hydra was everywhere. 

She decided to figure that out later. Once she was out of Hydras tentacles. She methodically flipped switches and pressed buttons that she was trained to press. The massive turbines started to spin and she could feel the rumble of the rocket engines. She put on the headset and adjusted the little microphone over her mouth. She pressed the button to open the sky door. She could barely hear the angry screaming from outside. 

She had to take a breath and control her heartbeat before she pulled the lever back to do more than hover a dozen feet in the air. Before she managed to blast off into the sky, a transmission echoed through her display. 

“You can land the plane and surrender yourself or we won’t hesitate to blow you out of the sky.” A calm but grumpy male voice said through the intercom. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I don’t exactly believe any of you would be nice to me at this point and I don’t feel comfortable in a world where Hydra is pulling the strings.” Andromeda said, her voice shaking a little as she pulled up a GPS system on a touchscreen monitor. The entire earth was displayed with dozens of glowing points for secret bases and government places to land. 

“There is no place on this earth where you can run from us, you can make this easier and make your sentence much lighter if you give up now.” The voice on the other said sounded frustrated. Andromeda noticed a little button on the side of the screen that seemed to be a little magnifying glass. She pressed it and grinned as instead of zooming in on the planet, the diagram zoomed out. Earth was a tiny speck with a handful of planets named on the screen. One pointed out an entire star system, ‘Skrull Refugee System’. Well, Andromeda is kind of a refugee now… she’s definitely not safe on her own planet. Hopefully, these Skrull guys didn’t mind her joining the party. 

“Well, then it’s a good thing that I’m not planning on landing on this earth.” She set her targeting system to the main planet in the star system. At least she had a chance out there in the stars if she stayed on earth, there was no guarantee she would be able to avoid hydra. 

“You brought this upon yourself.” The voice said gravely as a video message popped up on her main screen. 

“You have one more chance, Ms. Starling.” A burly man said in the center of the screen. “Land the aircraft or consequences will be thrust upon you.” 

“Consequences come for us all. And they’ll come for you guys when the good guys in the government realize that they’re being run by fucking Nazis.” She growled. 

“There’s no more Captain America Ms. Starling. Stop living on fantasies. We already run the world, we just have the mercy to let you live in it. Your parents, however, must pay for your crimes.” The camera panned out to show a dozen armed people around her parents who were now being forced to kneel on the ground with guns to their heads. 

Andromeda’s blood went cold. She didn’t even have time to beg before the shots made her ears ring and her parents collapsed on the floor in a pool of their own blood. The video cut out and she couldn’t move. She had to force herself to activate the thrusters. She was still in shock when she exited the atmosphere minutes letter.

She shook for thousands of miles after she left the earth. She was in shock and had to push herself physically to take the steps that she needed to take to survive in space. She sluggishly put on a spacesuit and tucked her long black braid into the helmet. 

She desperately tried to control her hyperventilating as she now had limited oxygen and wasn’t quite sure of the readiness of her spacecraft. It wasn’t even near fully stocked besides a full fuel tank, likely for test flights. There was no food, the water was at a minimum and had no circulating filtration. The bed didn’t have a pillow or a blanket and Andromeda only had what she came with which was the clothes off of her back and whatever was in the pockets of her silver jacket.

To avoid confronting what had just happened, Andromeda looked at the schematics of the ship, apparently, the engine was powered off of the stolen power from some cube thing called a tesseract that was in the custody of some government agency that Hydra had already infiltrated. 

It was hours later when she completely broke down. Everything collided with her all at once and it felt like it was crushing her. But that could also be contributed to the rapidly decreasing stabilization of the spacecraft. As she plummeted towards her destination, the structural integrity of the ship was decreasing drastically, the pressure and the destabilization of the oxygen made Andromeda’s vision go dark long before impact. Her last thought before it happened was a brief moment of thankfulness that she would die with her own choices and that she might be able to see her parents again. 

Fortunately or unfortunately, she woke up after an indeterminant amount of time. There were hours of barely reaching consciousness for a moment before the darkness overtook her again. There were only moments, images. Laying on the ceiling of the spaceship, covered in blood. Being carried away by green hairless humanoids. Talking in some language unlike anything she had ever heard on earth. A soft bed. Strange lights. Purple fluid being pumped into her bloodstream with a clear tube. Pain… lots of pain, burning pain, electrifying pain, blinding pain.  She just wanted it to be over. 

She fully woke up in what seemed like a medical bed. It was much different than what she had experienced on earth, but it wasn’t that different. Her head ached and her vision was fuzzy. Her body just felt strange and off. She couldn’t figure out why or what was specifically off. 

As her vision cleared, she began to recognize what was going on around her. There was a green, almost reptilian figure working on a hologram of what seemed like an image of Andromeda’s body with glowing purple starting to color her veins and incomprehensible information on the side. There was a machine to her side pumping opaque purple fluid into a clear pipe going into the skin in her arm. 

The room was clean but not excessively complex, there were no windows or curtains, just a gray metal door, and the medical console being manned by the alien figure. It wasn’t like she wasn’t expecting to see aliens but it was still a pretty strange sight. Strange in a fascinating way, Andromeda definitely thought it was super cool to be likely one of the only humans to be in contact with aliens. And the aliens seemed to be nice as she was still alive even after crashlanding into their planet and seemed to be receiving medical attention. 

Suddenly, her situation collapsed back on her like a mountain being dropped from the sky. She wheezed in a breath as tears filled her eyes. The alien (woman?) at the glowing hologram turned around as she noticed Andromeda awake and struggling to breathe. 

“You are safe terran. You do not have to worry.” The Alien woman said calmly, surprisingly enough, in English. 

“I’m sorry, I had nowhere to go…” Andromeda whispered, for some reason, her voice was hoarse and scratchy. 

“You have no reason to apologize. You are not the only one like that here. Now rest. You still have thirty-seven percent of your blood fusion to go. You will feel better when it’s finished.” The alien woman messed with the machinery currently injecting purple liquid into her. She suddenly felt very light-headed and tired. It only took a moment for her to fall back into comfortable darkness. 

The alien woman was right, the next time she woke up, she felt better than she had ever felt. She felt strong and refreshed. She felt new. Her head was lighter, which turned out to be partially because her long hair had been cut to implant what the alien doctor said was a translation chip or something. This wasn’t the only change though. 

It turned out that the purple liquid which was now coursing through Andromeda’s veins changed her in more physical ways. All of her hair on her body turned a bright white and when she looked into the mirror, she saw that her once dark brown eyes turned violet. Her skin tone was even slightly cooler as the color of her blood had completely changed. The little veins in her eyes were shades of purple instead of red or pink. 

The alien woman told her that they had gotten to her after she had lost a lot of blood and they had to adjust their own to be compatible enough to be transfused. Apparently she reacted strangely with the blood formula and it physically changed her in unforeseen ways. This left alien scientists and doctors mystified and incredibly interested. 

The Skrulls, whose enhanced blood was now coursing through Andromeda’s veins, were a shapeshifting race of aliens who were constantly under attack by blue humanoid aliens called the Kree. This was why they had several refuge planets. The system of planets was shared with other survivors of the Kree, including humanoids of all neon colors and even aliens who could pass as human.  

Andromeda was given a makeshift shelter with a handful of other aliens, some feminine, some masculine, some gender non-conforming. Mostly green reptilian Skrulls, but also an androgynous alien with bright pink skin.

It took her a while to get used to her new life, thank goodness aliens were a good distraction from major trauma. Life was simple, everyone worked together to survive. There were hunters who went into the wild planet and brought back strange alien creatures for food, there were farmers who grew crops and saved them up to ration them out every day. There were shelter builders and doctors and cooks and caregivers for children and dozens of other essential jobs that everyone wordlessly participated in. Andromeda tended to drift towards hunting and assisting the medical team. She had several first aid courses under her belt and alien physiology was fascinating to her. 

She was also being considered as a co-pilot for rescue missions. They didn’t have too many people who could fly a ship and who was willing to leave stability to willingly risk their life. Naturally, Andromeda volunteered for the job. Her life was exciting and different but after so many months, it had begun to be monotonous. Every day was the same. The infinite vacuum of space sounded much more fun.

It was during her first rescue mission when she realized how much she had changed. She was stalling in the co-pilots seat, ready to take off at a moment’s notice when an alert pulsed through her high tech monitor. She wasn’t supposed to get out of the ship. She was just a pilot. But if the distress signal was going off, that meant that the crew was captured or needed backup. Andromeda took the emergency gun from under her chair and stood up from her spot after putting the ship on stealth standby. 

She crept off of the ship in her adaptable uniform that was derived from a defector of the Kree Star Force. The suit changed colors to blend into the dry red environment and created a mask around her mouth to breathe the planet’s gasses. She twisted her wrist and the gauntlet of the suit activated a flickering GPS system, pointing out where her teammates were. 

She eventually made it to a small cliff in the orange rock that looked over the situation. Her teammates were surrounded by gunmen of the local oppressive government with a dozen unarmed civilians huddled in the center. There was some far away yelling but she didn’t care to hear it. She just had to think of what she needed to do. Her skin crawled with adrenaline. Or at least that’s what she thought it was. 

No one had noticed her presence. She carefully aimed her gun at the closest bad guy. She had never been great with guns and she was a little far away for comfort but she really couldn’t do much else. Of course, even with the most advanced targeting system she had ever worked with, she missed. At least it caused a bit of chaos. 

The bad guys in bright blue uniforms looked around wildly for her but she had already ducked back behind the rock. The bad guys yelled and one of them called for someone to find the ‘idiot slug-fucker’. Andromeda wasn’t sure about the accuracy of that translation but she didn’t like the sound of it. Her skin crawled even more as a dominant yell echoed through the valley of rock.  

“Show yourself or they’re all going to be shot down!” She froze. She couldn’t just sit there and ruin the mission and be the reason even more people are dying. She stood up from behind the scarlet stone and held her arms up in surrender. For some reason, her skin only crawled more. It was too bad humans weren’t the most interesting beings in the universe, if she had wings like Nidaviliir Demons or durable and able to take out technology like a Remorath but she was only human. The most basic boring creature in the universe. 

But she wasn’t quite human anymore. After she was saved by the Skrulls, she became something else entirely. And it took this long for her to know the true effects of what had happened to her. 

The feeling of her skin crawling went up her spine and stopped in between her shoulder blades. A strange feeling emerged from her back, not painful, not uncomfortable, in fact, it felt right. Behind her, flesh and feathers grew from her back and her spacesuit merged with her new growing limbs. Massive bright white iridescent wings expanded from her back, taller than she was and several times wider. She test flapped them once and was thrust about a foot off of the ground with barely any effort. 

The strangest part was how natural it felt. It was like she was born with the wings that she had only just barely grown herself. 

“Take it down!” the main bad guy screeched. Andromeda automatically shielded her body with her wings. She didn’t know if it would do anything to whatever type of weapons they had but it was a purely instinctual reaction. To her surprise, the energy blasts bounced off of her wings like lasers off of a mirror. 

Once the shooting stopped, she unfurled her wings and thoughtlessly dove off the cliff. She glided low to the ground and took out a handful of guys just by ramming into them. This was when all hell broke loose. Her teammates went after the bad guys who were focused on her and she reflected energy blasts with her wings so that they would avoid the people who were in harm’s way.

It only took a minute for the fight to be over, blue military uniformed bad guys lied motionless on the ground, most of the civilians were safe. There were injuries but the mission was a success. 

“Since when have you been able to do that Starling?” Her Skrull co-pilot exclaimed.

“Since like, uh, three minutes ago?” She shrugged. She didn’t really know how to undo the shapeshifting and her back had taken a hit or two in the fight. The wings felt heavier and more in the way than natural limbs at this point. She wanted them gone but she wasn’t sure how to do that.

“Maybe you should be out here instead of just in the ship!”

“Maybe…” Andromeda considered as they headed back towards the spaceship. 

Everything else went off without a hitch. They left the planet without being attacked again, no one died on the way back to the refugee planet, everything was fine. Andromeda had to have her wings half-open as there was no other way to sit, she still couldn’t figure out how to reverse it and was hoping that she could figure it out. 

After helping the new refugees with their injuries and having a meal or two, she passed out, back and wings up, on her bunk. Surprisingly enough, her wings were gone by morning. 

This was just the beginning of her journey. She wasn’t just a refugee from earth, she wasn’t a science experiment anymore. For the first time in a while, she felt hope that she could be more than what was expected of her.

THE BASIC & COSMETICS

Full name: Donovan Blackwood 

Nickname (and who gave it to them?): Don is the way most people call him. Some of his army friends called him D.  

Date of Birth: January 25th, 1985

Age: 35

Gender/Pronouns: Male | He / Him

Place of Birth: Sevilla, Spain

Eye color: Blue

Ethnicity/Nationality: He has English, Scottish and Irish roots, but is American but also is proud that he was born in Spain and tries to feel attached to the culture and the language. 

Accent (if any): Due to how many places he had been, he has a mix of accent, making it a little hard to say what part of the country he is.

Height: 6'2"

Tattoos/Piercings: So far has 5 tattoos: 1.- Arm band to remember his place of birth on his forearm 2.- A four quadrant tattoo with the initials of the members of his family on his left side 3.- One that looks like sammy’s paws is pressed against his skin on his right side 4.- Master EOD insignia on his arm.   5.-  A firefighter flag tattoo on his left bicep 

Disfigurements/Scars/Birthmarks: Has several scars due to his time in combat, he also has one on his wrist from a car crash during a race when he was 17.

Hair color: Blonde

PARENTS’ NAMES & BACKGROUND:

Father: Patton Blackwood

Mother: Lauren Blackwood

Number of Siblings (if any): 1 brother, Spencer

Relationship with Family: Very close

Do they have a significant other?: Not a romantic one that he knows of at the moment, but has a lot of important people in his life, his brother, and his fire family being the ones he could die for.

LOOKS

How do they usually dress? He is a casual guy, and has like a half lumberjack / half biker style that looks kind of like this or this.  

What do they wear to sleep? Boxers or shorts

Do they wear jewelry? I don't think it's considered jewelry but he never leaves home without his watch or a small replica of his grandfather's tag pendant

Is there anything about their appearance they wish they could change? He’s okay with his looks but he wouldn’t mind gaining little more muscle on his arms.

How would they look as the opposite sex? No idea, but probably a little like this 

What do they smell like? Why (do they wear the scent or does it occur naturally)? He likes to smell good, always, and uses Hugo by Hugo Boss cologne, not too much just enough. Is either that or smoke, if he is on a call.

Do they have an accurate mental picture of their appearance (how they see themselves versus how the world sees them)? Yeah, he thinks he does.

PERSONAL BACKGROUND:

Children of Your Own?: No

If so, relationship with their mother/father?: N/A

Age he/she gave birth/became a father/mother: N/A

Happiest Memory: The first time his grandfather let him drove his 66 Chevy Impala when he was around 12, it’s still a secret to his parents, but it was the happiest and most exciting memory.

Key Childhood Experiences: The first time he got into a fight with a much older kid, to protect his brother.

Key Teenage Experiences: Getting away with stealing his dad’s car and winning his first car race with it.

Key Adult Experiences (if applicable): Getting send away without saying any goodbye’s as a consequence to his actions and bad behavior.

RELATIONSHIPS & HISTORY:

What is their family history like? How does it affect them? How do they feel about their family? How does their family feel about them?: Is a very close family, but they are also very reserved, they don’t talk much about their demons, especially his war demons, since almost every member of the family has been a part of the military history of the country, they know a lot about them, but don’t share them much. But his family is the most important thing in his life.

What were they like as a child? What was their favorite toy? Favorite game? Playmates? What did they want to be when they grew up?: He was a very hyperactive kid that usually loved to play outside, his favorite toy was a Michelangelo, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, his soccer ball and his bike. And he always dreamed to be an Astronaut. Don didn’t have many close friends since his family was moving around, but he was always friendly.

MORE

Where does your character live? Why did they choose it, and how did they acquire it? Describe the space. He got a cheap place on Eris, when he first got into Asteria he wasn’t really thinking about staying much, so he went for the cheapest, is not the most impressive but he made a good job make it feel like a home even if it is on the lest impressive area of Asteria. Now he had been thinking about moving to an apartment Downtown cause are much as he like the house, he feels is too big for him.

What are some of your character’s more notable merits and flaws (including physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, etc.)? How did they develop? How has this helped or hindered them in the past?

How are they with technology? Good, thanks to his training on the army, he’s really skilled with technology or electronic.    

Are they specially qualified in any particular field? Would they be considered at the top of the field? He was a Sargent of the explosive ordnance disposal, so you can say so. 

Have they ever been publicly acknowledged for anything? Several for his service in the army.  One of two for his work as a firefighter.

Is there anything they’ve deliberately sought to improve at? He wants to be the firefighter he could get, cause he enjoys it a lot. 

Do they speak more than one language? English, Spanish, German, French, and Arabic.

Pactborn - Part II

NOTE #1: This is a chapter-long post of a character’s backstory, so hit your Keurig for a warm cuppa and curl up under a blanket, cuz this isn’t a quick scroll sort of post.

NOTE #2: I’m changing this submission up from the second person tense of the previous post (the one I used when talking to my PC during her zero level session) to the first person tense, just to shake things up and try on different styles. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed experiencing it!

I wake up to the warmth of the morning sun on my face and the smell of bread baking downstairs: normally, this would feel like any other morning here in Khaadeehava, but this morning feels different. Maybe it’s because today the annual celebration of Al’adwa, the festival of Solune where everyone eats street food, plays games, and watches the solar eclipse; or maybe it’s because of the amazing dream I had again of the nice man with the shield who takes me flying over the city and the ocean (sometimes, I like to pretend that the big ships I see in my dreams are Papa’s); or maybe it was the weird feeling in my stomach when I woke up: I thought – no, felt – like someone was watching me…

Regardless, I throw my legs over the side of the bed, glancing over at my outfit for later, as Mama calls up to me, “Kal’ya, darling, a letter is just in – I think you know who sent it!” With my gangly form, I sprint like a whirlwind down the stairs to see Mama fixing breakfast in the kitchen and a letter waiting for me on the supper table – on it is the seal I’ve come to recognize and love: the insignia of the Felgran Fleet, the royal navy of the next region over from Ghaan. Papa joined the navy when I was five years old, and his work has kept him away at sea for sometimes months at a time for the last three years. It’s so exciting to read his notes when he can write though! He tells me stories of all sorts of different people, different types of weather, and strange sea creatures he’s had to encounter. I carefully tear along the side of the envelope to pull out his message to me – it reads:

                                              ~ Wayfarer’s Tavern ~

Savita 22nd, 410

My little cinnamon stick,

I hope this letter finds you well - my journey has taken me around the coast again into the frigid waters of the Gheaţă Ocean to a region known as Chladny (have you read about this place in your studies?). It never ceases to amaze me how we are only a mere 30 days apart and yet, where hot sand lies beneath your feet at home, frozen snow lies beneath mine as I stand here on the Zamuerzat Wharf. How I wish I could bring you with me! Perhaps when you are 10, then we will sail around the entire continent of Baenomir. Until then, I hope you will enjoy this trinket (called a “compass”) I picked up in one of the shops in the port - it is Dwarven made and is said to be able to tell you which direction you travel. May it direct your paths until mine direct me home to you. I know I have been gone longer than usual, but I may be home within the next month.

Give your mother my love and save the best of it for yourself,

Papa

I miss Papa so much! And I want to go sailing so badly! Sometimes, when Mama sends me on errands, I’ll go to the docks down in the Lahira Marina just to watch the ships go in and out of the port. I’d give anything to sail a great big ship like one of those.

Before my mind can wander far, I remember the part in the letter where Papa mentioned a trinket – my eyes scan the table for a package and quickly find it and unwrap it: it’s a…metal box? I study it more closely. Dad has told me before about dwarves – that they’re a little shorter than most humans but are very, very smart and can make the most incredible things out of metal! As I turn the “compass” over in my hands, I see that the bronze casing holds some notches and a couple dials behind a thick piece of glass. I spin around the room and watch the needles whirl around, and it makes me giggle. Rubbing my thumbs over the front of the compass, I feel the cold, shaped metal shaped into the four points on the device – they are of four faces, and all have tiny little red gems fitted into their eyes, ears, and foreheads. A couple of the faces look a little creepy, but one looks like a tiger and another looks like a grumpy version of Sultan Hunab! The top face, nearest the “N,” has a large hat like the sultan wears, and it’s around this hat that the cord of the compass is wrapped and tied.

Excited to show Mama, I run into the kitchen with my letter and trinket. “Look, Mama! Look what Papa sent!” I slap both down onto the table, eager for her to read the letter and to marvel at my new treasure. “Papa says he got this for me and that it shows me where I’m going! Look!” I shove the compass closer towards her face, obscuring her vision for a moment as her head jerks backwards in surprise.

“Hold on, Ka’lya, hold on, let me read your letter first!” she says as she chuckles warmly with shared enthusiasm. She finishes reading the letter then extends her hand to examine my gift before laying eyes on the grimacing faces, letting out a short gasp, and nearly throwing the compass as she recoils from it. I scramble clumsily to catch it before it hits the ground, barely getting a grip on it before it clambers to the floor. I know the look I give her is one of confusion and frustration, and she quickly tries to regain control of herself. “I’m sorry, I—I don’t know what came over me…” she says as she wipes her hands on her apron and goes back to scrubbing out a bread pan.

Mama is usually a pretty tough lady: she does everything for Jida, Jido, and me. She might not be an adventurer like some of the people in the stories Papa tells me, but she still is kind of like a hero – she cooks and cleans and makes things for Jida and Jido’s stall down in the bazaar sometimes. Mama told me once that she even saw a dragon, but she doesn’t like to talk about it; she said it makes her sad when she thinks about it. Maybe this reminded her of something that made her sad once…

I don’t bring up the compass again as I quickly gulp down the delicious breakfast Mama made and, after putting my plate in the sink, I run upstairs to get ready for the day. Mama saved up some extra silver to buy me a new outfit for the Al’adwa celebration tonight – a new pair of pants with a nice tangerine and turquoise shirt. When Papa comes home, he brings home lots of coin to help support us while he’s gone; but the longer he’s gone, the more we have to do what Mama calls “cut corners.” She says that sometimes you have to do difficult things to get by. But for tonight, she must have put that aside, because as I look in the mirror, holding the sleeveless, silky-soft shirt up to my torso, I feel like it is much too nice for me to ever wear out of the house.

Carefully pulling the shirt over my head as though it could tear at any moment, I smooth it down over my long waist then begin to brush my long, tangled black hair. I look up for a moment to comb out a knot, and I meet my own glance in the reflection – I’m not much for prettying myself up, so looking in the mirror is a rare occurrence and seeing my two different color eyes always catches me off guard. My right eye is a dark brown just like Mama and Papa’s; but my left eye is a pale blue. Jida says that that is where an angel must have kissed me before I was born. Mama tells me that it’s unique and something to be proud of, but the other kids in town usually just make fun of me over it.

I must have been upstairs for a while now, because I’m surprised when Mama yells up to me that it’s time to head into the market district for the festivities. Before leaving my room, I brush a long section of hair down over my left eye. Joining Mama on the veranda, we walk hand in hand to the bazaar. “Your cousins Ravi and Baru will probably be here, you know – you’ll have to try to find them so that you can play together,” Mama encourages me, “just be sure to meet me back and Jida and Jido’s stall before the eclipse makes it get too dark, alright?”

“Don’t worry,” I assure her. Even though the nice man that visits me in my dreams tells me that my blue eye is a gift, I still don’t know if I like it. I wish sometimes that I were just a normal kid, nothing special. Then maybe I would fit in better.

We meander slowly down the dusty downward slopes of the residential district to the Central Bazaar, and Mama coaxes me to run off while she visits with her friends. I wander aimlessly through the sandy streets for a while, picking up a few dropped pieces of copper and finding myself a food vendor where I buy a kabob – I eat it cautiously, almost leaning forward with each bite, careful not to drip any of the spicy sauce on my new outfit.

As I continue my half-hearted search for my cousins, a foot shoots out from behind a street booth, tripping me and causing the rest of my kabob to go rolling down the path, getting coated in dirt and dust. I look up, surprised, to find two other children pointing and laughing at me – Sai and Danikka. Sai, a scarlet-skinned fire genasi, is a notorious bully, and Danikka, a blue dragonborn, simply runs with him because she’s the tallest girl in our small little school and all the other kids are afraid of her.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going, weird eyes?” Sai goads me.

“AAAAWWWWWW, you gonna cry?” Danikka whines as she chimes in, making me feel that much smaller as she towers over my body, now covered in dirt and kabob sauce. A fire begins to burn deep within me, and my ears and neck start to flush with anger as I pick myself up off the ground. “If you can’t watch your step with those eyes, then maybe you only need one of them!” Danikka threatens, and I barely get my fists up in front of my face in time to deflect her right fist as it comes sailing towards my left eye. Relief floods my system for a moment, and I let my guard down too soon as her opposite hand shoots out with a parry, hitting me square in the eye socket. I stumble backwards in pain, holding my left eye and trying not to cry; disoriented by the thumping of blood as my face begins to swell, I trip again – this time on myself – and fall backwards into a vacant market booth.

I scramble, nearly bear-crawling part of the way until I can properly erect myself, as I watch Sai closing in on me, a cruel grin on his face. He grabs for my ankle as I right myself, only catching the fabric on my loose, baggy new pant leg instead, causing the seam to split as I wriggle out of his grip. I dart off into the streets, my left eye wet with eye-watering pain, and I can hear the two of them giving chase as I dart like a gazelle in and out of alcoves and alleyways, trying to lose them.

After toppling a basket-weaver’s display stand to slow them down, I zigzag my way to a side street and duck beneath another empty booth where I crawl inside the booth’s sliding compartment door beneath the countertop. I wait here for what feels like forever, hearing them find my route, search briefly for me, then move on, still calling my name in unnatural sing-songy voices. I emerge from my hiding place, looking about feverishly for any signs of them, before an altogether different voice takes me by surprise.

“Why do you run, child?” asks a deep, velvety voice from behind me. I jump and turn with my fists raised in reactive terror. Rather than Sai or Danikka though, I see a tall tabaxi man, striped black and orange with a white neck. He stands from his stool behind the merchant booth next to mine, and I can tell there is no way he works at the bazaar: his clothing is much too fancy-looking to be a merchant. He steps forward to share my booth with me, his striped tail flitting back and forth gently from beneath his jade and gold colored brocade robe.

I keep my fists raised, mostly out of mind-numbing fear, as he walks softly on padded feline feet. “Don't allow those hooligans to cause you any despair - I can tell that you are strong and will go on to great things,” he reassures me with a wink, slowly and cautiously bringing one hand up to dust off my shoulders while the other hand lifts a pipe to his mouth. Squinting with my one good eye, I do a double-take before realizing that there is something off about this man’s hands since they look like they are on the wrong wrists. I catch myself staring and quickly – and likely obviously – try to avert my eyes. He doesn’t seem to either notice or care as he continues, “Oh, where are my manners, I suppose I should tell you my name so that I'm not a stranger: you may call me Gilgapaka. And what is yours?"

I swallow a hard, dry lump in my throat before looking up into his large, golden, vertical-slitted eyes – “My name is Ka’l,” is all I can get out. My whole head is now throbbing with pain, and I feel too dizzy to run even though my mind is telling me I should; even so, he seems kind enough to feel bad for me. My eyes, his hands…maybe we’re not all that different after all? Maybe he knows how I feel? Wishing Papa was here, I break down in tears and briefly sob into the tiger-striped man’s side before quickly pulling myself back and rubbing my eyes dry.

“My, what a lovely name that is,” the tabaxi gentleman says as he gently brushes my hair from my face, tucking some of it behind my left ear, “could you write it down for me?" He pulls from his pocket a large piece of parchment covered in lots of beautifully-written words, a lot of them pretty long. I feel bad writing on the paper as it looks important, so when he offers me his piece of charcoal, I try to squeeze my name down in the bottom section that doesn’t have any words on it. He holds it up to the waning sunlit sky as the moons begin their encroachment upon the sun, slowly closing in on both sides of it with each passing moment leading up to the midday eclipse that is to take place in a mere matter of hours. I look up at the parchment, too – I feel a small amount of shame at the sight of my penmanship, shaky with leftover adrenaline coursing through my body like a frightened mouse. He seems pleased with it though since I see him smile at it before saying, “Thank you – I hope we meet again soon, young Ka'l. If I see those nasty children again, I’ll be sure to teach them a lesson for you…and remember: you’re very special. Don’t go forgetting it."

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. He takes one more long puff from his pipe before leaving me alone in the abandoned booth and striding off into the street. I rub my eyes again, but when I look back up, he is gone altogether from the path. Suddenly curious, I rush out into the street, looking this way and that way for any sign of him among the other people milling about in the bazaar, but there is no sign of him anywhere. I don’t even hear the voice of Mama calling out to me as I look down at my clothes…there is not a stitch out of place nor stain to be found.

Quick credit to my amazing cousin (and - coincidentally - the person behind this PC) for helping me with the amazing photos up top.

If you’re interested in keeping up to date with posts on our story’s characters and their origins, let me know (and thank you to all who already have interest)!

Ye Olde Taglist: @serenewrites​, @mayvinwrites​

A Different Sort of Rebel

So this is a thing. @crimson-r memed at me to get me to write a story with my OCs, specifically my Hordak Species Member OC Mirak (Lady Mirak if you ask her) and this actually turned out fun for me.

It was kind of a ride because Mirak was originally an RP character and she was much more refined than this new rendition of her. This version of her is much more... kind of predatory? I started toying with the idea that Hordak’s species are a super predator and naturally kind of violent but then it spun out into this particular member is way out there even for that assumption.

Anyway there are no canon characters in this. It’s got a violent comedy flare to it though so that’s fun.

Story under the read more

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"So what exactly happened to your legs?" The large gruff lizard man's voice echos through the dead metal of the crashed ship section they're held up in.

The woman being addressed looks up from her poking at her lower legs, both are crude cybernetic prosthesis. She currently sits in nothing more than an ill fitting horde issue body glove with the legs, already short on her frame, tugged up over her knees let her tinker. The Horde insignia on the back have been painted over white.

She's a member of Hordak's species, one of the very few to be stranded Etheria, and one of the fewer still to remain alive. Tall, a pinch over seven feet, lean, and as deadly looking as any member of her species. A talon is raises up in thought, skin blueish grey and much more on the grey end of that spectrum.

Her bright lavender eyes blink as she ponders her answer. "You shouldn't just ask people questions like that. It's rude." Solid.

"Yeah? I want to know though." The lizard man is rather standard for his species. Green, green, more green. He wears the standard trooper armor of the Horde though the Insignias have again been painted white and he has a crude blue stripe running diagonally across the chest plate.

Silence now, the two stare at one another. A battle of wills, Space Vampire against Lizard Man. The Lizard Man wins due to the fact that the vampire has to break and raise the breather dangling around her neck to her mouth to get a clean breath in.

The atmosphere of this planet is less than great for her kind, and she does not have the blessing of artificial lungs like a certain someone off in the Fright Zone. No she gets a home made armored respirator. The air won't kill her but the longer she breathes it unfiltered the more uncomfortable it becomes.

"They were crushed in a lab accident." She finally admits.

"Lab accident? What, you a scientist?" He sounds incredulous.

"I could make an argument that I am." She flashes a predatory grin at him now.

"Huh..." He leans back, crossing his arms. "Here I thought you were just a murderer, Mirak."

Now she, Mirak, frowns. "You know you joined me, you do not have to be so rude. Tim." If he's going to use her name she can use his!

Lizard Man Tim shrugs, then stands up, throwing on his helmet. "We should get going. Hordak's convoys don't raid themselves. Meet you topside." And he's off. Mirak watches him go before moving to stand up herself.

Side to side she shifts her weight, and scowls. These damn lower legs. They have terrible shock absorption and weight distribution. Which makes sense since they're essentially just re-purposed bot servos with some makeshift feet. Not really made for supporting an organic frame.

That should be next on her to do list, get new legs. Maybe something with some flex.

Or talons. Big foot talons would be nice. Be able to grab people with her feet and throw them. Or climb really effectively. Yeah. That's going on the list alongside the battleship she wants to build.

For now though: convoy raiding. She moves over to her stuff pile and begins to strap the armor on over her body glove. Horde pieces, taken and modified to fit her larger that average frame. All rather cobbled together but it looks nice enough. Again the white insignia and blue strip appear. Straps of pouches are thrown on, and a cloak is pulled over her shoulders and clipped to her armor. Her armored breather is strapped on to her face proper and tight. she grabs her faithful shock prod, modified for higher output, and climbs up out of the chunk of buried ship she and Tim call home.

Then the light hits her eyes and she remembers her retina don't get along with daylight. There's a hiss of pain, and the sound of Tim laughing from above. Goggles, right. Need those. She's proud of those, salvaged the armored glass from horde helmets herself. Filed and sanded it down into two nice circular lenses and fitted it all into a frame of her own make.

And they all said those shop classes wouldn't be useful.

Who they are is of no importance.

Now she climbs up and out properly, running a hand through her floofy mohawk of deep purple gray hair then pulling her super cool hood on.

"you know you look ridiculous. Entirely too much going on." Lizard Man Tim notes as he fiddles with his two shock prods and starts walking through the flower fields.

"You're using two shock prods." She counters. "Besides, I look intimidating."

"Double the firepower. Is this a thing with your people because Hordak always has that cape on..." Tim is one of the few people on Etheria to grasp that Hordak and Mirak's species are from somewhere else. Though he hasn't put together the existence of other planets, he just assumes it's an across the ocean situation.

"We have a very appearance conscious culture."

The walk continues with some banter and some discussion of their current state of affairs. The two had gotten wind of a Horde convoy on its way to reinforce an outpost and in this territory the Princesses weren't likely to go for it.

It's not that the two don't like Princesses. It's just that they still felt like they were more horde than rebel. Soldiers of a better Horde. They also don't like Princesses.

"remember. Non-lethal." Tim was really trying to push this non-lethal angle lately. "We need recruits not corpses."

"I feel as if you're singling me out, I hope you know I'm your commanding officer and future ruler of the Horde." Mirak huffs.

"Future ruler of a graveyard if you don't stop putting that shock prod on the highest setting."

"I will take your advice as my second in command into consideration." She turns the prod down. It's just so easy to kill. Plus it makes one feel powerful. It smells nice. It's just the sort of thing a hyper predatory species enjoys.

There's no need for them to go over the plan as they walk, they've been over it plenty of times already. Get into ambush position on the hills. Hit hard and fast. Look great. If things don't get too violent maybe even try and recruit some of those wayward soldiers into their new army. Previously called 'Better Horde', currently called 'Horde United', and if Mirak has her way called 'Lady Mirak's Horde.' that last one isn't catching on with Tim though.

Mirak’s people are rulers. Dominant in the Horde. She may not officially be ‘Lady Mirak’ but she could be if she got the chance. It was her birthright to rule. Thoughts like this flit through her mind often. Alongside plans on new pieces of attire to craft, and of how to best kill the many different species wandering around this world. 

It makes the walk to their operational area feel rather short.

Of course things off without a hitch. Relatively speaking. They got into ambush positions. The convoy was exactly as described. Two skiffs, two transport craft, some foot soldiers, lightly defended overall. The first skiff went down easily, fire from Tim and Mirak pounding the soldiers riding it and sending it crashing. Mirak is certain that if that killed anyone it does not count as her fault.

The second skiff is more difficult, now that they know they’re being ambushed they start to take evasive action. Lizard Man Tim charges down from the hillside, leaping at the Skiff. Mirak can’t help but appreciate what a wild guy Tim is. For her own part she marches down, raising the shock prod in one hand and firing down upon the foot soldiers guarding the transports. Her other grabs a modified energy cell strapped to her waist, fingering a trigger on it and tossing it into the air. Setting it to short and overload. 

She hears someone yell something about Princesses and this time does not look around to see what they’re talking about, she’s learned that lesson. They think she is some princess, and they will be taught otherwise. She can’t run on her cobbled together legs but she is seven feet tall and her stride lets her close quickly, before they even have a chance to truly notice her or over the commotion of her improvised explosive and Tim hijacking their skiff. The shock prod comes down, she’s in melee now. Glee fills her, the rush of battle up close and personal. As much as she wants to kill Hordak and take his place she knows, deep down, this is where she belongs. In the thick of battle. In the feeding grounds.

The movements of a pitched battle is a difficult thing to track, but as usual Mirak come’s out on top. As she electrocutes the final resisting soldier and kicks him to the ground she cannot help herself but cackle. “A fine show! From fine soldiers!” she yells out. Immediately there is confusion in the air. She continues, the show is now on! “Know that you have been defeated not by Princesses! but by Horde soldiers! Your comrades! We do this not to harm you but to liberate you!”

The still living troopers are mostly groaning in pain and looking around confused now. Tim has set down his new skiff and is raiding the transports as Mirak monologues. 

“Hordak is a tyrant! A corruption of the Horde way of life! A life of order and martial strength! A life that belongs to soldiers like you! like me! So long as tyrants such as Hordak and the Princesses rule we will never be free! we will never know peace! So to those of you who have fallen before me know that there is another way! Join us! Join Lady Mirak’s Horde!” 

Tim suddenly pulls himself out of the transport he is raiding. “No! That’s not the name! We decided on Horde United!”

“It’s easier to understand if it’s just My Horde! It differentiates us more clearly from Hordak’s Horde!” 

“It makes it sound like you’re just another tyrant!”

“It does not!”

One of the downed soldiers now raises a hand. “Excuse me? Are you two seriously arguing right now?” 

Both Tim and Mirak look at her. Mirak speaks. “Yes, we are free to do such things in... the Horde United.”

“Thank you.” Tim notes.

The woman who actually spoke up nods slowly now, pulling off her helmet to reveal tan skin, buzzed hair that is likely black if allowed to grow, and brown eyes. “Horde United is better, that guy’s right the other one just makes you sound like Hordak.” 

Some of the other soldiers murmurs in agreement. 

Lady Mirak frowns beneath her breather, which none of them can see but she knows she’s frowning and that is enough. “Well fine. My offer still stands. Join us and make a difference, a good difference! Also you can keep all this stuff you were transporting!” 

There’s a long silence now. Finally the woman with a spine speaks again. “Do we have to do the blue stripe and white crest thing you guys have?”

Tim replies quickly. “Yes, obviously. It differentiates us. Plus we can call ourselves Blue Stripes.”

Mirak looks back and forth for a moment. “He really likes the name Blue Stripes.”

Another awkward silence fills the air, only the sound of a burning skiff behind them adds any ambiance. Which is a good ambiance, the sound of burning metal and bodies. Again the woman speaks. “Yeah sure I’ll join.”

Not only do her fellow Horde soldiers look at her in surprise but so do Mirak and Tim. “Seriously?” Tim asks.

“Ha! See Tim! I knew they would see reason!” 

“Eh. I just don’t see the point of staying under Hordak if we’re just going to get pummeled by everyone we come across with nothing to show for it. Might as well get to keep this stuff...” she shrugs. “Names Cass.”

“I am Lady Mirak!”

“Tim.” 

A grand victory for the Horde United was had this day. Mostly. Mirak was not allowed to summarily execute those that did not join. It was determined that that would undermine their message. 

Best of DC: Week of August 21st, 2019

Best of this Week: Superman: Year One - Book Two - Frank Miller, John Romita Jr., Danny Miki, Alex Sinclair and John Workman

Superman has always stood for Truth, Justice and the American Way. 

This has never been more true (arguably) than right here in Superman: Year One, where Clark Kent becomes a US Navy Sailor. I briefly touched upon it at the end of the last issue, but this one really resonated with me in a way that no comic has in a little while. Other books have made me feel feelings of fear, disgust and elation beyond compare, but this one makes me feel the bittersweet memories of my own experience.

I remembered my first haircut, carrying my seabag across the base, marching and all of the PT (physical training) that I had to endure for those grueling two months. Clark isn’t fazed by any of it. It takes a few clippers to cut his dense hair. He breezes through the PT, noting how hard it is for everyone else to do and when he has to qualify for using a pistol, he hits the mark dead center every single shot. There were a few superstars like Clark when I was in boot camp and seeing that written and excellently drawn by John Romita Jr., made me feel something of a kinship to one of my favorite heroes.

You can see the struggle in his shipmates faces as they sweat and heave with Clark monologuing in his mind that he can hear their lungs about to burst or their legs about to give out. That shit was me. Every single PT test leaving me winded, marching at a double time… I hated every second of it. But through all of it, I felt proud. I wanted to get through, to push myself harder than I ever could. 

Clark doesn’t feel that. How could he? He’s an alien from another planet with abilities beyond compare and he could do anything he set his mind to. But what does he choose to instead? He answers the call of duty, he chooses to serve his country and his fellow man. It’s ridiculous, but at the same time absolutely commendable and inspiring. If I were to level criticism at the first two acts of this book, however, it would definitely be the lack of real feeling of camaraderie that Sailors feel together in Boot Camp. Never once do we see Clark interact with his shipmates in any meaningful way, aside from his Captain later on. The feeling of pride is there, but the friendships and relationships that come with it does leave a little bit of the story feeling hollow in favor of a less than great, but still good subplot later.

Another problem I have is… I don’t know how accurate print media and comics are allowed to be with military rank and titles, but Kurtzberg is supposed to be a Captain, but wears the insignia of a Petty Officer Second Class and Chief Petty Officer at two separate points. It’s a mildly irritating and nitpicky thing, but what can you do?

Of course, Clark's path diverges greatly from my own. A little bit before the pistol qualification section, he gains the attention of a Captain Kurtzberg and after his perfect scores, he's allowed to try out his skills further with an assault rifle, which he also excels at. Kurtzberg recommends him for more advanced training and soon after, he trains to become a Navy SEAL. I don’t have a singular clue as to what the SEAL lifestyle is like, but training he’s made to endure is even worse, though you wouldn’t know it from how he reacts to it all.

It’s here at SEAL training that the first seeds of the subplot, later becoming the hook of Act Three are sewn. Clark begins to hear the calling of the sea. It’s something that some deployed Sailors still feel to this day, the Siren Song or Mermaid Call that drives most men mad with how beautiful their voices are. Kurtzberg calls Clark out during one evening of PT and makes him to push ups on the shore of the beach after Clark tells him that the Captain should see how pretty “they” are. Unable to sleep during the night, Clark sneaks out of his barracks to watch the beings on the coast when Kurtzber appears next to him, warning him to not tell anyone about what they’ve seen as Kurzberg too knows of their beauty and the world of wonders that they live in. 

If you’ve been reading Superman stories for a long period of time, things may start to click as what or who may be calling Clark. After our hero accidentally starts a bar fight while trying to defend the honor of a woman, he’s punished by having to use his toothbrush to clean the head (bathroom) and garbage cans. After finishing his chores way into the night, he makes a dummy in his rack (bed) and sets off to explore the sea, taking to the water like a fish since he doesn’t actually need oxygen. 

He follows the sounds of the voices calling and finally see them, Mermaids, laughing at this strange human. One in particular catches his eye, Lori Lemaris, one of Superman’s original love interests from the late 1950s. He follows her as she laughs, until her voice turns to tears, seeing a submarine having crashed into their city. In one of his first of many acts of heroism, Clark lifts the sub off of the city, saves the people and helps them rebuild just before Morning Colors. Lori begs him to stay, to become her husband and King, but he tells her that the people up there need him, but that he will be back. As always, Clark is torn between two worlds, but his first thought is always to honor his commitments because he’s such a good guy.

Romita Jrs art shines best in these few pages for me. Lori is absolutely beautiful, playful and the visuals of the underside of the ocean are stunning. Everything’s a beautiful hue of blue except for the vegetation and Lori, who’s colored with yellow and purple clothing. Clark looks amazingly strong and happily curious as he saves the people of Atlantis. Romita Jrs. lines are amazingly crisp and he makes great use of only a few hatch lines to shade things. Everything is thoroughly enjoyable to look at, even the way that everything flows under the water is awesome.

Clark manages to return back to the barracks just in time as Kurtzberg watches on, knowing where Clark’s been and thinking to himself that the young SEAL better keep those memories clean and pure because he’s witnessed something amazing. He swam with the angels. There’s a three page long training montage where Clark shows just how efficient he can be in combat, embarrassing one of his shipmates so hard that he’s pulled aside and given his first assignment.

Things take a dark turn as Clark and his team are made to infiltrate a ship that’s been hijacked by pirates. During the training, as Clark thought to himself just how easy it would be to kill, he started to get a pit in his stomach. Things weren’t sitting right, especially as Kurtzberg egged him on by saying, “That there is how to kill a man good!” This stuck with Clark as he did his bet to avoid killing any of the hijackers. He saw how monstrously they murdered the crew of the ship and he felt himself getting more angry, but he still couldn’t bring himself to take a life. 

Things reach a head as the team reaches the control deck and Clark still refuses to kill any of the enemies. Kurtzberg lambasts Clark and orders to give him some corpses, until one of the hijackers pulls out a grenade. Everyone starts to panic as the mission goes FUBAR, but Clark utilizes his strength to stop the grenade, subtly, making it seem like it was a dud. 

While he ended up saving the lives of his fellowsailors, his reckless actions reward him with an honorable discharge. Kurtzberg advocates for him, but ultimately Clark has to pack his sea bag and say goodbye to his friends. Before he departs, he has something of a heart to heart with Kurtzberg. The Captain tells him to hone his skills, that he could do amazing things with his gifts and Clark salutes him, walking into the ocean to find his destiny.

The way this scene is framed, with the lighting indicating an early morning, makes everything seem like the future is absolutely bright for Clark. Having Kurtzberg abandon his badass attitude of authority and strength to give Clark advice while shaking his hand like a man is an amazing and heartfelt sight. For the first time, Clark doesn't have to try to lower his strength, it just comes naturally.

All of this is bittersweet. Clark Kent wanted something different than his life in Smallville. He knew that he would have to hide his abilities if he stayed, he knew that he could do so much more for the world. He chose to serve his country, one of the best things a Patriot can do, but his heart was too good for it. His skill and power raised him to a position that did not align with his own moral code. Clark would never kill, but no good deed goes unpunished.

The third and final act of this book comes with Clark returning to Atlantis, seeking out his new love, Lori. She reacts happily once she sees him again, calling him the love of her life and saying that he should meet her family. Then they… frolic in their special hiding place until the next day. She tells him to wear his best as he is to finally meet her father, Lord Poseidon. He emerges from the shadows in his iconic red and blue with fish swimming all around him and the flora lighting up in his presence. 

Poseidon isn't amused, seeing Clark as a little standing frog and proceeds to put Clark through impossible tasks to win his daughters hand. Clark begins to find the true scope of his powers as he concentrates and releases his heat vision on one of the enemies. It's a stellar display of power and control as Clark monologues that this fire inside of him was his and his alone. Alex Sinclair did an amazing job of portraying the ability and powerful it is with intense and vibrant reds.

Poseidon pulls out every stop that he can to try and crush Superman. He sends his best warriors, but Clark doesn't even acknowledge them trying to crush him. Stone automatons fall to his might. A giant squid swallows him whole and vomits him back up, unfettered by the stomach acid. Becoming increasingly enraged, Poseidon summons the Kraken and uses the fabled beast to try and crush Superman to death. 

As the tentacle lifts and Lori cries, thinking her one true love has died, Clark stands right back up with a smile. Lori jumps for joy, the people are stunned and in a silent rage, Poseidon calls off the Kraken and plots revenge on the frog that he couldn't crush.

Throughout this entire act, Poseidon monologues to himself about the bug that wouldn't be crushed or burned or destroyed in any way. Clark just smiled, snickered and mocked Poseidon the entire time. There was no malice in his smirk, just the boyish exuberance of love and youth. Poseidon though Clark wanted his crown, but really he just wanted Lori, a place to finally be himself and a peace of mind that he's never truly had.

Superman: Year One has been amazing thus far. While it's only a few peoples take on what would happen if Superman joined the military, I feel like it's a great and accurate one in line with who Superman would be as a man. Given the lessons that he'd learned from Pa Kent, how could we expect him to be ready to kill at any moment? Instead, we see his compassion for humanity shine through as he's even willing to preserve the lives of absolute monsters. 

John Romita Jr. captures the apathy of an effortless Clark in his early career, the wonder when hears the beautiful call of love from the sea and the conflict of a man caught between duty and morality. To say that this is some of his best art in years would be an understatement when it concerns this entire story. While the last issue focused heavily on the vast normality of the midwestern United States, this issue feels more tight and focused on the inner turmoil of Superman. The locales feel more linear, allowing us to explore more of Clark's own inner thought processes. He is surrounded by other strong men, but he is in a league of his own until he meets Lori.

Superman: Year One is a great journey of self-discovery. Other Superman stories have tried similar themes with varying degrees of success. Superman: Earth One went in the hard direction of Superman being an apathetic douche that knows he's a God and lowers himself to the level of men until someone bigger makes him want to protect the citizens of Earth. Superman: American Alien grounded Superman near as much as this book does, but what makes them different is the journey Clark takes to find himself.

This book warmed my heart something fierce with it's incredible storytelling and art. With issue two being this good, I can only hope that the next one will be nearly as amazing. Given that the preview of the next one shows Superman holding up the Daily Planet globe, we are absolutely going to be in for a treat. 

Highest of recommends.

My abandoned TF story.

So this was a tale lost to the einds of time I created many a moon ago. It's Grabuge (transformers pun YEAH!). So without further ado here it is.......... Millions of years ago on a distant planet………… “-eports indicate that the Decepticon movement is gaining more popular-*click*WE NEED TO STOP THESE UPSTARTS AND PUNISH THEM FOR WHAT THEY'VE DON-*beow*” “Hey, Flameflash why the frag’d you turn it off? I was watching that!” A brown & magenta bot in front of a giant multi screen monitor asked his comrade, scrunching up his blue visor and trying best he could to frown through his mouthplate. He couldn't. “Because,Horse-Power, Delta wants us to report to his quarters for some reason. I don't know” A orange & reddish bot with highlights of green responded to Horse-Power, his yellow optics shining brightly as he shrugged. “B'sides you were just skipping through channels not actually watching anything” “Fine, *sigh* let's go” Horse-Power said as he got up scooting his chair in. The two bots began walking down hallways of their base,Grandus Maximus,it was an old one built years before the war, before the Senate even. The prime from then,Nova,built it in preparation of a threat that never actually came to fruition. There were rumors of it being alive with it occasionally being said to speak (yet no one's heard it if so), high energy readings in it not to dissimilar from spark readings, the two northern towers rotary cannons appearing to be fingers and the towers having joints similar to the ones found in elbows along with the southern ramps looking like legs with metal attached, and last but not least the main command hub looks like a giant head with a helmet on and visor pulled over it's optics. If it has any. “Ey.” “Huh.” “So what do you think of the ‘Cons ideals starting to gain traction with more people and them attacking our territories more?” “To be honest with you, it's…a bit terrifying”,Flameflash responded as a chill went down his spine,”Well here's Deltas office.” He said after moments of silence when they arrived at a small room in the center of Grandus’ inner square. “NO! This isn't working! AAAGGGHHH!!!” Everyone around it stopped what they were doing and stared for a few seconds with the only sounds being (non sentient) machinery working away. Flameflash and Horse-Power gave each other looks of worry as they walked in. “Hey boss are you alright?”Horse-Power asked in a low voice as he tried to put his hand on Delta's lengthy shoulders.”Ya need some help?” Delta sighed as he sat back in his chair.”No. It's fine. I just don't understand how to work this STUPID computer!” He shouted as he slammed his fist into the little indentation from his previous meltdowns on his desk.”So I'm trying to turn on the whatchamacallit… ‘Autonet’”, snapping his fingers when he realized what it was,”but it isn't working!” “Well what you do is take the mouse here and move it to the the little insignia icon and double click. See not so hard.”Horse-Power told him as he demonstrated. “Need any more-”,AHEM. Horse-Power looked up with the look of ‘The frag man’ splayed across his face as Flameflash interrupted. “Yes, Flash?”,Delta responded.”What do you want?” “You called us in for a meeting sir.” Flameflash answered as matter of factly as he could which wasn't very much. “Aw yes. I almost forgot, thanks.” The green and red bot muttered through his mouthplate as he turned and reached into a filing cabinet almost hitting Horse-Power with his shoulders. He then for a few minutes looked through all of the files, looked back,and checked a few more times before finally pulling out a giant folder and slamming it down. “This here is the file about the team you two are going to be put on with me leading.” He told them as he handed the file over sounding proud of himself. The two bots in front of him both reached for it with Flash grabbing it after a couple seconds of confusion between them. “Let's meet your squadmates and you can read that as we go.” Delta said firmly as he passed them by into the hallway. Delta Squad DELTA MAGNUS Function: Squad leader . Alt Mode:Heavy assault missile carrier Appearance: Operative has the same basic silhouette as those in the Magnus line. Operative is predominantly green with red on his torso,chest,shoulder edges,joints,knee pads,hands,and armor. Operatives frame has his alt mode missile launchers on his shoulders impeding him when walking in corridors or doorways, he can make them erect yet this has its own set of problems. Operative has a mouthplate that covers most of his face with his green optics unobstructed. Weapons: Operative has high energy nucleon rifles built into his arms capable of paralyzing those shot or terminating them with enough power. Operative has a solar powered mace that has replaced his left hand but can also function as a cannon. Operatives alt mode cryo-missile launchers work in both modes. Mental Profile: Operative is the archetypal Autobot general, being kind and caring but making sure to be commanding when he has to be. QUICKFIRE Function: Tech whiz Alt Mode: High flying scout aircraft Appearance: Operative is very small compared to the rest of his squadmates. Operatives alt mode kibble is very prominent with his wings hanging off his legs but being small enough to not impede locomotion. Operative is a black with pink highlights lining his joints,limbs,cockpit,wings,and face. Operatives head has a helmet on it providing him with improved audio receptors and instant access to any nearby machinery to control remotely,courtesy of Wheeljack,but it does short out with prolonged usage. Operatives face has bright glowing pink optics,a very pointy smell receiver,and a constant grin plastered across his face. Weapons: Operative has a very small Plasma Musket and a combat knife for close quarters. Mental Profile: Operative is always trying to make new and better software applications and patches for his teammates against their insistence because of his need to help no matter what. Operative has a deep seated hatred of all Decepticons and has been having random panic attacks, with worse problems showing through despite his claims nothing's wrong. BOOMPOWER Function: Explosives specialist Alt Mode: Zero G energon mining vehicle Appearance: Operative is dark blue with a slightly lighter shade in a camo pattern. Operative has a scar across the front side of his torso from a mining accident. Operative still wears his old mining equipment for armor and has been adding extra holsters and pockets to his frame for his explosives. Operatives head has very prominent audio receptors that give him improved hearing. He has blue optics and a perpetual frown Weapons: Operative has a ununtrium covered drill used to pierce the heavens. Operative uses this in his interrogations and to bludgeon enemies. Operative uses a launcher that fires shells of superheated engex. Mental Profile: Operative usually speaks in a gruff imposing tone. Operative drinks to forget his problems, but when he drinks to much his gruff voice becomes a quick mumble with no one understanding him besides his Conjunx,Casket. Operatives rough attitude is just a ploy covering up the bot who just wants to stop fighting and rest. CASKET Function:Medic Alt Mode: 6 Wheeled medical ATV Appearance: Operative is a light golden color with a warm red on his hands,feet,knees, various crosses, and forehead chevron. Operative is a medium sized bot with a upgraded version of the basic medic frame. Operatives kibble is stored in a backpack that can turn into a medical tent and shield. Operatives head has a small chevron that curves around their head. Operatives face has a visor attached to the chevron that can slide down to cover his optics and gives him various forms of enhanced vision. Operative has blue optics. Weapons: Operative uses a syringe launcher that has various forms of ammo. Operative also uses a stun gun. Operatives melee weapon is a highly brutal bonesaw. Mental Profile: Operative has a caring personality yet the patients he's lost over the years takes a toll on his psyche making him pessimistic at best and nihilistic at worse. Operatives philosophy is “Medics can't stop death, they just make it a bit more bearable”. Operative sometimes goes into cycles of isolation and usually the only thing that gets him out is his Conjunx. They soon arrived at Grandus’ ship bay. With Delta leading the two bots down some stairs they soon arrived at their ship the Boson Bomber. “Everyone, these are the newest additions to Delta Squad. I want you all to tell them congratulations.” Delta commanded of the squad. “Nice job mates.” Quickfire said enthusiastically. “Great. More bots for me to fix.”Casket said as he shined his saw. “Just try not to die and you'll be fine.” Boompower told the new recruits, extending his arms for a handshake. They grabbed his hands and as he began the shake Flameflash could've sworn he heard something crunch. “Now that everyone's met we should get on the ship and start briefing for the mission.” Delta told his men as the ramp into the ship opened up letting everyone walk in. The ship was an old supply carrier that had been outfitted with fusion cannons and explosive payload capabilities. “So what's our mission chief?” Flameflash blurted to his commander from across the briefing room. “Yes. Without further ado I shall introduce JadeRaven,” Delta said as he turned on the holo screen in the center of the room showing a Decepticon with an avian alt mode who was a sickly green in color with some dark brown here and there.”Our intel has said he is trying to take the lower Tagan Heights manufacturing facilities for some unknown reason. Our mission is to find him and capture him if possible and find out his plan. Any questions...yes. Quickfire?” Quickfire put his hand down.”What the frag kind of a name is JadeRaven?!” ……………………………………………………….. Anger. Disappointment. These were the thoughts going through JadeRaven’s head as was standing in his CenCom Facility. The Autobots were in his troops sewing dissent towards him and leaking intel, and now an Autobot SpecOps team was close to ringing on his doorbell. “RubyWolf report to quadrant 3 sector 4.6”,he said as turned his wrist comm,”I need my logistics officer at my side to help command.” “At once my sire.” The con on the other end responded. JadeRaven had some of the most loyal lieutenants and troops out of all the Decepticon generals. He was once a part of a exploratory crew that crash landed in a unexplored part of space and was stranded there. He and the crew tried for solar cycles and solar cycles to get off the planet until they eventually gave up and tried living there. Overtime they found a source of energy that transformed them into mineral/beast hybrids. They were soon after able to call Decepticons that were passing by, with the mineral fueling their ships radio equipment. When he arrived at the ship he converted almost all the crew and troops of the ship into “Minanimals”, and when doing so it made those he transformed extremely loyal. “Yes, my leige, what do you need?” RubyWolf asked his commander. “I need you run defense program alpha 86. We're going to blow these intruders out of the sky.” After he said that his mobile fortress transformed with panels opening up and turrets popping out and started firing into the sky. Happiness. Relief. These were the feelings going through his head. ……………………………………………………….“H-Hold o-on every-ybod-dy this is g-goin-ng to be-e a b-bump-py rid-de”,Flameflash stuttered as he was piloting the best he could through the constant barrage of laser fire,”the l-lan-nding zone is up ahead.” It had been a long night for the crew of the Boson Bomber with them leaving at 5 breems after 6 PS, which left them flying through the Rust Sea for about 7 groons with a storm taking up almost half that time. 4 groons later they found a Autobot convoy heading to the lower Tagan Heights to try and take the area from Jade’s control. At around 12 groons after the start of their flight they arrived. “For Primus sake can you try and not get us killed ‘Flamer’!”Casket shouted over the blasts going on around the ship. “First, my nickname is Flash,and second,I'm trying best I can alright? So just sit back and let the pilot do his work!”,Flameflash said with a slight hint of annoyance in his voice,”See. We're landing right now. I told you I was good at this.” “As soon as we land get out and find cover! We'll move up through quadrant 3 and try to get to JadeRaven that way! Ready?” Delta asked as they finally landed. “Ready!” The squad repeated while they ran out of the aircraft before it even touched down, with Casket grabbing fistfuls of medical supplies and stashing them away, Quickfire putting on his helmet trying to hack some Decepticon turrets and failing, Boompower destroying some Con encampments and drilling into them, Delta freezing several enemies that were running away, Horse-Power shooting some cons that were occasionally peeking out, and Flameflash running up after landing a ways away. “*huff-huff* You *huff*guys need *huff* some he-aaahhh!!!” Flash yelped as he tripped over a corpse. “You really should be more careful. I honestly don't want to fix you this early into the mission.” Casket said as he was grabbing a Con in a headlock. “Yeah yeah, whatever Doc.”Flameflash retorted as he dusted himself off and shot a Con about to knockout his brother with him hearing a faint “Thanks!” in response. “ALRIGHT! We'll move up to the Comm towers,we'll split, take them, and call for reinforcements! Let's GO!!” Delta shouted rallying his troops as he transformed and provided a small opening for them to run through, with Boompower in the back providing covering fire. “Hey Autobot”, A Decepticon shouted at Boompower as he turned to catch up, “look out below!!” and as he said that the ground beneath Boompower burst open with plasma and fire licking at him burning the Autobot, then landing with a sickening crunch. “Oh frag!!! Boomy I'm coming to help!!!” Casket shouted as he turned around and saw his Conjunx land harshly. “‘Boomy? What kind of a name is ‘Boomy?!” The Con asked through his snickering laughter. “A very nice one!”, Casket shouted in the Cons face as he pulled out his saw and punched him causing him to stumble backwards. “Now, this may hurt some but I'll try my hardest to make you suffer.” Casket told him as the saw engaged it's “amputation” mode and he lowered it with a look of maniacal satisfaction on his face. “Wait, I'm sorry please no no-aaagghghh!!!!!” The Con pleaded as the saw entered his body at the waist and slowly moved up, tearing his spark in twain. Casket then ran over to his Conjunx still covered in the Cons energon. “Alright, where is the pain?” He asked as he cradled Boompower in the middle of the battlefield. “Everywhere. But the sight of you’s making me feel better already. Ow.” Boompower said as he tried getting up and almost fell but Casket caught him. “Aw, thanks. You flatter me but nothing compares to your-” Casket tried telling him before being cut off by Flameflash, “Stop flirting and get the slag over here. We need some big booms.” He said through the radio on the other end making explosion effects with his hands to accentuate what he said even though they couldn't see him. “*sigh* We'll get there in a klik. I have to carry Boomy though.” Casket told Flash as he transformed and used his alt mode repair bay arms to pick up Boompower, racing to everyone else's locations and trying as hard as he could to not hit bumps or to shake. As they arrived they could tell taking over the towers was going to be a lot harder than once thought. Missile batteries and Gatling guns covered the external layer of the buildings with even more guns and traps inside. Delta eventually decided on a plan to drill inside from the bottom and attack that way. So they sent Boompower to drill(against Caskets argument) enough to where they can get in but not to much so the Cons notice. ……………………………………………………….. “We're in position sir, do we go now?” Quickfire queried of his commander. “Yes. Move up.” Delta told the squad on the holofeed Quickfire had installed. “Oh yeah! Take this cons.” Horse-Power shouted when he jumped out of the floor hitting two cons, knocking them out. Quickfire and Flameflash crawled out behind him. “Can you possibly be more reckless and loud?” Flameflash angrily asked as he bumped into Horse-Power on his way to the door. “I mean, you are a real soldier, right?” “Yes. I think. Maybe.” Horse-Power said as he suddenly found himself lost in thought looking extremely let down. Quickfire walked up and tried to wrap his arms around his squadmates shoulders but could only pat their backs, “C’mon we're a team guys so go easy on each other.” “I guess he's right”, Flameflash said looking away and rubbing the back of his head, “well let's take this place over.”, saying this with a hint of regret he walked into the doorway there was a small clicking noise as soon as his foot touched the ground. “Hey guys. Do you hear something?” He asked looking over his shoulder. “SILENT ALARM ACTIVATED” rang through the base as guns and soldiers appeared out of every nook and cranny. “Oh frag. Let's move!” Horse-Power shouted while he moved through the door and ran up the stairs with his teammates following behind. “What kind of a silent alarm announces it's activated?” Flameflash questioned as he pushed a random Con into the firing path of a gun that barely missed him. The Autobots gradually found their way through the base neutralizing soldiers and shutting things down. They arrived at the control room after a a few kliks of running from some Decepticon goliaths, killing them by tricking them into falling out windows handily nearby.The team walked the door as sneakily as they could and peeked inside seeing a room full of mineral covered Cons. “Alright, the plan is uhhh…”, Quickfire trailed off going blank before fear flashed across his face, “NO NO, STAY AWAY FROM ME! LEAVE!!!” “What do we do!?” Flameflash nervously asked as the team engineer spasmed on the ground while the Cons slowly strolled towards them. “I don't know! Call Casket and ask. I'll cover you while you get him out of here!” Horse-Power shouted at his brother, he then pulled out his rifle and began to fire, but a Con covered in black minerals that appeared to transform into a crustacean grabbed his gun tearing off his hand along with it. “Ah ah ah, I don't think so little bots,” He smoothly told them while his maw chittered with each word. “JadeRaven told me that there was an Autobot team heading for us but I wasn't expecting a mentally deficient technician,” looking down at the murmuring bot on the floor then turning his attention to Horse-Power, “a daredevil that listens to no one's advice,” tossing his hand to him, “and a disgrace of a soldier who's only good attribute is that he spends to many cycles playing games.”, his attention finally landing on Flameflash. Quickfires holofeed turned on, “We have the tower under our control, do you have yours?” Delta questioned. The Con leader bent down and picked up Quickfires arm in his giant claw, “Yes, in fact I've had this for many Solar Cycles, or were you talking about your men? Cause if so...no they do not. But go ahead and try to free your men, but by the time you get here they'll already be dead. Signing off, Lobsidier.” Crushing Quickfires arm afterwards with him either not caring or not noticing. “Now”, Lobsidier said with glee in his optics, “let's get on to the suffering. Um….you there. Take the them to the torture room or whatever it's called and start the working two up with a bit of, oh I don't know, Straxian acid torture, and this one”, kicking the small mech in the face leaving gashes across it, “I think he needs some shock therapy.” ……………………………………………………….. Pretty soon they arrived at the torture chamber with the screams of the suffering echoing throughout. Horse-Power was brought to a unplugged recharge slab covered in what he hoped wasn't energon where the Cons strapped him down and brought over a slowly dripping beaker of acid.”Why is there a torture room in a comm tower?” was the one of the few thoughts in his head as he could feel the acid drip down melting through his cranial structure centimeter by centimeter. He couldn't help but scream. ……………………………………………………….. In the other tower the rest of the squad was mulling over what the Con called Lobsidier said. Boompower swung around after staring out the window, “We should be rescuing them Delta, not just sitting here.” “You bring up a good point Boom, but we don't know if he was bluffing. There's the chance we could go in and our teammates are dead or there's a chance he was serious,” rubbing his mouthplate unconsciously, “what do you think?” pointing at one of their prisoners. “I don't know anything about rescuing people, but I'll help you if you let me go.” Replying with hope in his voice. “I atleast know my way around this tower so it should be easy to navigate.” Casket walked over to the Con and pulled out his saw, “How do we know you're not lying.”, raising it to his captives face. Hesitantly he pulled up a holographic schematic of the tower showing he wasn't lying. “See, I told you. Now, if I give you this will you let me go?” Casket grabbed it out of his hand before lowering the saw but not moving it away from him, resting it near his torso. “Looks like he's right boss”, telling Delta before turning to the Con, “how did you get this?” “We all got these on our first day here, it's not some giant challenge to get one.” The Con said with a great amount of snarkiness. Boompower walked over to his Conjunx grabbing the schematic to give to his leader. “Well since we have this now let's go get our squadmates.” Boompower shouted with elation, ready to go. Delta's optics scanned the schematic trying to find the most optimal location for him and his soldiers to rescue the rest of their squad. “Let's call in some reinforcements and we'll try to take it by entering through the vehicle bay.” The Decepticon was finally let go by Casket but the Autobot kept his gun trained on him. “I don't really think that's the best way bot, I would radio for more guys, which is obviously what you should do, but the vehicle bay has no tactical advantage if your going to take control of the tower. I recommend going in through the top of the tower and moving down from there but I don't know how you’d get up there. Maybe get someone to fly you up there…” lingering before covering his mouth “*cough*me*cough*.” Keeping the snarky tone from before. Casket raised the sights of his syringe blaster to his optic, “One more snarky comment and your losing your head. Ok? Primus sake.” He muttered under his breath. “Alright, we’ll call in reinforcements and get uuummm, what's your name?” “Thunderstrike.” “Ok, Thunderstrike to fly us up to the top and take the tower that way.” ……………………………………………………….. “Frag you cons!!! Let us out!!!” Flameflash screamed to the torturers. “I’d rather not. I was told to do this and I listen to my boss. Also, this is quite fun for me. It lets me get out all my rage.” ........ And that's all I ever did. If (anyone reads this) you like this or hate it tell me your thoughts. Be as harsh as possible.

I heard you do ellieXdina prompts! Please can you do one with Dina finding out about Ellie’s bite? I always wonder how she found out/reacted

Ellie had always worn long sleeves shirts since she was bitten, it was something she got used to doing, hiding the bite.

That didn’t change with her new surroundings, in face she was extra careful to make sure that no one around her seen it.

Then there was Dina.

Ellie had been friends with pretty girls before, it always ended badly, so she wasn’t looking for any kind of friendship. So Ellie was cold and short with Dina.

Dina didn’t care.

From the moment Dina came into Ellie’s life (sliding into the bench beside her while Ellie read one of the comics on the complex, a brilliant smile on her face when Ellie looked at her) Ellie knew she was screwed.

Ellie avoided Dina, but she still always managed to find her, worm her way under Ellie’s skin until it got to the point that Ellie was disappointed when Dina didn’t come find her, that she missed Dina when she wasn’t around, and Ellie hated it.

Come the age of sixteen, a year and a half of being at the complex, Ellie decided she was going to eventually get a tattoo to cover up the bite so she didn’t have to keep wearing long sleeve shirts, especially in this blistering heat.

Dina fell down on the grass beside her one day when they temperatures were pushing one-Oh-two.

Ellie glanced at the girl, dressed in short shorts and a tank top, her hair pulled up and her skin damp.

“How can you be wearing long sleeves in this weather?” Dina asked, and Ellie watched as she took a long drink of the water she had, a bead of sweat rolling down her neck.

“It’s not that bad.” Ellie shrugged, tucking her arm under her head an forcing herself to look away.

“It’s not-“ Dina frowned back at her. “It’s the hottest day in years, El.”

“I run cold,” Ellie answered.

Dina rolled her eyes, reclining back beside Ellie. “We should go to the lake when the sun cools a little.”

“Can’t swim,” Ellie answered simply, her eyes closed.

“Learn,” Dina shot back.

“No thanks,”

“You’re learning,”

Ellie felt Dina shift, and then she was being shielded from the sun, making her sigh and opened her eyes to see Dina staring down at her with a soft smile. “What?”

“Your freckles,” Dina ghosted her fingers over her cheek. “They’re cute.”

“Sweet talkin’ ain’t gonna get you anywhere, Princess.” Ellie grumbled, pushing Dina out of the way of the sun.

“Come on,” Dina batted her away, blocking the sun again. “We don’t have to go deep, just tread water, cool down a bit.”

“I’m fine here,” Ellie answered, the last thing her needed in her mind with her mess of teenage hormones was the image of Dina in a swim suit.

“Ellie,” Dina warned in a hard tone. “Please.”

“You have all your other friends to go with,” Ellie huffed, knowing her resolves were slipping. “Why not go with them?”

“None of them are my best friend,” Dina answered simply, taking Ellie by surprises, she had no idea Dina thought of her as a best friend. “I have more fun hanging out with you.”

Ellie looked up into pleading brown eyes and sighed. “Fine, but only for a little bit.”

“Great,” Dina grinned, bouncing to her feet. “Meet you at the gate in two hours.”

Dina rushed off then, and Ellie watched her go before reclining back on the grass, shaking her head at herself. “Get a grip, Ellie.”

Dina didn’t meet her at the gate, because Ellie didn’t move from the grass so she spotted her as she headed for the gate, giving Ellie’s side a little kick.

“Have you even moved?”

“Nope,” Ellie popped the ‘p’, not opening her eyes.

“You’re swimming in that?”

“Yup,” she popped the ‘p’ again, this time pushing herself up onto her elbows, squinting up at her.

Dina had only changed her top, now wearing a t-shirt and the short shorts, a towel wrapped around her shoulders.

“Are you ready to go?” Ellie asked.

“I am,”

“Then let’s go.”

The lake wasn’t far, but Ellie was on edge, she hadn’t been out of the complex much since arriving, but Dina tentatively touched the back of hand, and Ellie felt herself relaxing at the contact.  

Dina dropped her towel onto a nearby rock and kicked off her shoes, then she pulled off her her shirt, and Ellie could feel her cheeks begin to burn at the sight of the girls toned, dark skin. 

Diana grinned at her before heading straight for the water.

Ellie pulled off her own shoes and shaking her head as she followed her, until the water was up to her ankles, then she stopped.

Dina was already waist deep, the lake dropped off steeply just in front of Ellie, and she glanced back at Ellie, offering her hand when she realised she had stopped.

“It’s not fast flowing, you’ll be good.”

Ellie was unsure but took ahold of Dina’s hand and allowed her to pull her in, waist deep.

Ellie had to admit that it was nice, the cool water on her hot skin.

Dina let go of her hand in favour of grabbing her arm with the intent to move further but she stopped when her fingers landed on the bite, and Ellie tensed.

“You got a scar under there?” She asked and before Ellie could pull away she had pushed up her sleeve.

Dina faltered for a second, and Ellie braced herself for her to scream, or run away and tell everyone.

But that didn’t happen.

Dina let her fingers ghost over the raised bumps. “Tell me you aren’t turning?” She asked and Ellie was surprised to see genuine pain in the girls eyes when she looked up.

“No, I’m not.”

Dina closed her eyes a released a relieved sigh through her nose. “How old?”

“Couple of years,”

“And you haven’t turned,” Dina left her hand in Ellie’s skin and took a step closer. “How?”

“I dunno,” Ellie shrugged. “They said it evolved somehow, I have it in me but it’s not active, or some shit.”

“Or some shit,” Dina repeated with a little laugh. “Jeez, El, that’s crazy.”

“You’re not scared? Or weirded out?”

That made Dina frown. “Of course not, why would you think that?”

“I dunno, I guess all this bite has done is cause me problems.”

“Come on, we’ll sit for a bit.” Dina dragged Ellie out of the water and to the rock, both of them perching themselves on the hot rock, their shoulders and thighs pressed together.

Ellie looked down at the bite. “It’s a constant, horrible reminder of a day I want to forget.”

When Ellie looked back at Dina she was just staring, her eyes flitting over Ellie’s face. “What happened?” She whispered.

“You ever had to put a bullet in the head of someone you love?” Ellie asked.

Dina shook her head slowly. “Parent?”

“No,” Ellie licked her lips, unsure of what to call Riley at first. “First love.”

“Shit,” Dina breathed.

“We were about to start something new, you know? We were gonna take off together, me away from the military and her from the Fire-Flies.”

Dina didn’t flinch at the pronoun used, she just looked at Ellie with a soft look, not pity but protectiveness, like she was trying to figure out how to stop Ellie hurting.

Ellie wasn’t sure that was possible.

“We were kids, now I know it would never have worked but we weren’t happy, and she was leaving me so she asked me to ask her to stay.” Ellie was staring at her arm again. “I didn’t, I asked her not to go, she didn’t think twice about yanking off her tags and telling me we were leaving.”

Ellie found herself playing with Riley’s dogtags she had around her neck, prompting Dina to look down at then.

“Those hers?”

“Yeah,”

Ellie expected Dina to tell her she’s sorry, give her that same pity look everyone else did, but, again, Dina didn’t fit into her expectations.

Dina took the tags from Ellie’s fingers and moving closer, too closer for the feelings Ellie had brewing for this girl.

The front of the tags had the fire-flies insignia on it, and Dina ran her thumb over the raised metal before flipping them over.

Riley Abel. 000129.

“I reckon she’d be proud of you, you know?” Dina let the dog tags fall against Ellie’s chest and looked up at her. “How you’ve fought through everything life has thrown at you, it’s incredible.”

“Yeah, if she had seen me kill all those men she would have been proud.” Ellie hummed, glancing at Dina. “Aren’t you going to say your sorry? That it will get better with time. Time heals all wounds.”

“Nah,” Dina snorted. “That stuff is total bullshit, time doesn’t heal shit. This is something you don’t get over, it’s something you get better at dealing with. It probably won’t go away, you’ll always have this hole where she used to be, but that will lessen, other people will fill that hole.”

“But never completely?”

“Never completely,” Dina hummed, glancing at Ellie. “It’s hard, it’s always gonna hurt.”

Ellie laughed, her head hanging. “Thank you, for not pussyfooting.”

“I like you too much to pull that shit,”

Ellie looked at Dina through her eyelashes, smiling when the girl nudged her shoulder.

“Swim?”

“Fine, but no deeper than my ribs.”

Dina rolled her eyes, hopping off the rock and dragging Ellie into the water.

Ellie ended up chin deep.

Cutscene: Reinforcements

Taking place on the southern outskirts of Anima.

Wherever she was, it had definitely seen better days. Was it just her or did Mistral have more abandoned and ruined towns than advertised. Violet had never been to Anima before so she didn’t really know one way or the other. Then again, given that Mistral is known for having lots of large Grimm and bandits, that didn’t surprise her. She even read about a start-up kingdom being destroyed by a single massive one though the name escaped her.

These places never had a lot of huntsmen. That couldn’t have helped.

Whatever it was that happened here charred the place. There wasn’t a single log or stone that wasn’t blackened to some capacity. That was more than likely bandits who lit a fire under the city so the Grimm would go after the chaos and the flames rather than them.

Then she heard the snapping sounds. They came from a lot of different directions. Grimm were still here. She didn’t have a lot of business fighting them. She was the only one here, wasn’t she? Violet slid her back foot into a fighting stance and winced at the jolt of pain in her stomach. She had miraculously been found out in that desert and got her wound treated, but it wasn’t fully healed yet. That would take time and better medical care than a dusty outpost could provide.

She saw the beowulves appear in one of the biggest packs she’s ever seen. Individually they weren’t a problem and even small groups were only a minor threat to a trained huntress, but she wasn’t at 100% and counted their number at far too many.

She pulled out her pistols and flared out the whip halves. She needed to keep as many of them as far away as possible. She didn’t need to guess whether or not they saw her.

They charged; so did she.

She twirled into her first strike, creating a ring of spinning metal and cable around her. Several took the blows but looked more inconvenienced than seriously injured. Dodging incoming blows wasn’t impossible, but the jolts of pain in her midsection made it harder than usual. She felt a force slam into her back, sending her right to the ground. She only had enough time to roll out of the way of a second strike, fire at a third Grimm to drop it, and try to get back into position and play keep away again.

This went on for what felt like an hour though it was certainly a lot less. She didn’t have the aura to keep herself defended and light off her semblance. No one would see it below the treeline anyway.

Not below the tree line!

She wasn’t sure if she could even do this, but she had to try. Putting all her energy into dodging the mass of claws, fangs, and terror before leaping over the swing of a particularly large one and vaulting herself upward. She aimed a shot upward and the barrel glowed with light.

Come on...

Instead of her flash ringing out right in front of her, the combination of trying to force it forward and the gunfire shot it into the sky. A extremely loud flashbang cracked into the sky. She prayed someone would see it. She wasn’t going to be able to do that again.

She landed clumsily, but thankfully wasn't harmed. She was still in the middle of a pack of angry Grimm, though.

The wind picked up out of nowhere. The gusts felt almost razor sharp. Even the Grimm were howling in pain.

Then the footsteps and the gunfire came.

Atlas troops!? There were only a few of them but that was very clearly Atlas equipment. She couldn’t count them but there were less than a dozen- and was one of them flying!?

“You okay, kid!?” The flying soldier shouted down from above. He swooped through another group of the Grimm, sending them flying- some without all of their limbs. It looked like the air itself was slicing through them. The mechanical wings on his back collapse as he skids onto the ground next to her. He makes a waving motion and the small squad he was apparently commanding started taking out the flanks. There were still a lot left.

Then he took his wings off. They folded outward like a case that could be snapped shut. He pointed the opening toward the funneling crowd of Grimm and it started to radiate energy.

“You’re going to want to stand back!” He shouts, bracing what was now a rather hefty particle cannon. 

The blast was an enormous stream of light purple light that left a large streak of dirt where ground and structures used to be. Violet had to shut her eyes tightly being so close to it. The guy using that thing was probably lucky he was wearing those goggles. After that, what was left of the pack had begun dispersing. Once things started clearing up the other soldiers began rushing about the scene, apparently looking for any hidden survivors. she wondered if they planned where their commander was going to shoot to prevent any possible casualties. No major buildings were in the way of the blast after all.

“Who else is out here?” He turns to her. “Where’s your family? Are there any other survivors? Are you a huntress on the scene?”

Violet takes a moment to right herself. She stood up straighter and tried to see what she could about this guy. She managed to recognize a rank insignia and a patch on the armor’s shoulder she wouldn’t have recognized if she didn’t see the wings. “I’m fine, Lieutenant.” She says, “There’s no one else here. I was an Atlas cadet actually. As far as I know, this place was abandoned. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“The hell’s an Atlas cadet doing all the way out here?” Morado muttered to himself but didn’t bother to disguise his volume. It wasn’t a problem if the kid heard him. “So you’re alright? Do you need medical attention? We have a medic with us.”

“I probably should get checked up.” She agreed, “What are you guys doing out here, anyway? Is the military trying to protect the other schools or something?”

“No reason not to explain it since you’ll hear it later anyway- We’re AWOL. The General demanded all Atlas forces pull back to the kingdom. Not even Mantle’s got its protection right now. We decided to compare the last ‘great idea’ the brass had to what happened and Beacon and refused orders. People out here need us,” He looks over at Violet as living proof of his point, “Obviously. Huntsmen have been disappearing, too. When one kingdom falls to terrorists, that’s a disaster. When a second one is suspiciously undermanned, there’s something else happening and I don’t think they want to admit it.”

Dad would have been proud of these guys. She prayed they weren’t a rarity in the army. She was lead to a place to sit where a medical trooper pulled out a first aid kid. Standard Atlas army suite, but it was still good. She lifted up her shirt to reveal the bandaged wound on her stomach. The winged commander looked away, shifting his focus to watching the search. After a few more moments she finally spoke up. “You’re with the Dustwing Project.”

The soldier buckled in a mild surprise and/or panic. “How do you know about that!?” He asks with more worry than anger in his voice.

“My uncle is a Major, sir.” She explains. The medical officer had undone the bandages and was inspecting the wound. She overheard the muttering of it healing well, but slowly, something about fresh bandages and mild painkillers, and wanting to meet whoever did this. There was also a question about her other scar she ignored. “By the way, I’m looking for someone, do you know if you’ve seen them? Blonde and green-eyed like me. He’d be in his early 30s, about five-ten, and has two weapons with him. A blade and a sickle. He’s-”

The soldier apparently heard enough. There was a sense of recognition on his face. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Goodfellow, Sir. Violet Goodfellow. I’m... looking for my brother.”

“Robin Goodfellow!?” Apparently they knew each other. “I graduated Atlas with that asshole!” He stopped before he said anything else. “Uh... no offense. We didn’t get along.”

Violet was more irritated by the fact that she wasn’t offended by this at all. Then again, Robin did try to kill her. Best leave that part out for now. “So... have you seen him?”

“Sorry, but we’ve been too busy playing damage control with all the missing huntsmen. I get you want to find your brother. It’s the principle of the matter, right? Still, you’re safer with us. We can’t slow down but we can keep an eye out while we’re trying to help out.”

Violet stands up now that the bandages are resecure and smooths out her shirt again. The medic gives a cue and the soldier turns around again. She manages to look him right in the... er... reflective visor. “Alright.” She had to admit this was probably going to be easier travelling with them- or at least safer. “Just be warned, I’m looking for a few people, actually. I’ve... uncovered something, something dangerous. I don’t have the full info anymore but I can give you a summary. I might know where your missing huntsmen have gone.”

The soldier smirks. “Fair enough. Give us a summary on the way out of here. I’ll introduce you to the squad soon; I’m Lieutenant Morado Amun. That over there is Medical Officer Ash Dickinson. You’ll hear a few of the guys call him ‘Doctor Dick’ so... ignore that.”

Violet chuckles. “Atlas Academy, remember? I’ve heard worse from the drill instructors.”

A soldier rushes toward them with his scroll. “Sir! S.O.S. from a nearby village. They say there’s armed bandits surrounding the area!”

“Fair enough. Anyway, welcome to the Dustwings, Cadet Goodfellow. I’d give you an introduction but we’d better get moving!”

Death and Emptiness, Hand in Hand: Part 1/2

"By god. It’s true."

Leere Dragmire walked through the construction sight of castle town. Whole buildings levelled and debris being moved away. She wasn't present in Hyrule for the recent invasion by threat whispered as Vul'kar. Her last day traveling through she had encountered an increasing presence of undead Stalfos and other monsters. They were attracted to darkness and death. And very landscapes had been torn apart. Seeing more and more destruction she only hoped her family was alive.

A guard stopped her from entering the castle. "I'm sorry. Due to recent circumstances no citizens are allowed into the castle until the bridge is fixed."

Leere raised an eyebrow and took out a locket, the Hylian Royal Family insignia on it. Just because she didn't happen to look like a princess didn't mean she wasn't one. "Princess Leere honey. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to enter my home."

The guard was confused, and on closer inspection, he wasn't Hylian. Had a darker tone and the smell of ocean. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize the royal family had another daughter. Still getting used to this. Please, follow me."

Leere nodded, grateful to see if her family was finally well. Three years was a little long.

"Zizi, you've already built nearly seventy temporary shelters today. Enough is enough, you need to go rest." Zarazu chided her younger sister gently as she held up some water. "You're exhausted. You only have so much magic to use each day and you're overexerting yourself. Several Zemljas and Kovinas are tired because of all of this. Just because you are my sister doesn't mean you have to do extra."

"Listen to her, Zi." Zolori was holding a basket full of fruits for Zizi to eat. "You've worked all day. You need a break."

"But... but some people don't have a shelter." Zizi huffed as she put her hands on her knees, sweat rolling down her forehead. "Where will they sleep?"

"It's called camping, one night under the stars won't kill them." Covarog assured his sister-in-law. "Besides, we'll have fires to keep everyone warm. Right now, they're handing out some food grown by the Zemljas for emergencies. We were able to salvage some of the fields, but not much."

"Yeah. Looked like everything was torched." Leere stepped into view. She had extremely beautiful pale skin with crimson eyes and dark flowing chocolate hair, while wearing common traveling gear. The second she laid eyes on her younger brother her composure had regained. She knew that he'd keep the rest of the family safe. "Good to see you Covarog."

"...! Leere!" Covarog internally felt a wave of relief. He never did see her among the captives when Vul'kar took so many hostages. He was hoping she was far away and safe. Hurrying to her side, he swept Leere up in a big hug. "Thank goodness you're safe!"

"...?" Zizi exchanged glances with her sisters.

"More or less obliterated by ancient monsters of the deep." Zolori wiped the soot off her hands by rubbing them together. "And you are..."

Leere hugged Covarog as he easily spun her small frame around like a ragdoll. Settling down she turned to the rather good looking blonde, arching an eyebrow after checking her out. "Leere Dragmire. Eldest daughter of Zelda and Ganondorf." She quickly winked to Covarog. "By two weeks against deer Rinku of course." She looked back at the three woman. "And might I know who you all are?"

"Oh..." Zarazu stood there, a bit confused. Covarog never mentioned another elder sister. Then again, there were extended family members and close friends that the Dragmires considered family. Maybe this term was just an endearment. "I am Queen Zarazu Slatki of the Lorleidians."

"Leere, this is my wife." Covarog gave Zarazu a small peck on a cheek. "We were married right before this disaster happened."

"These are my sisters, Zolori and Zizi." Zarazu smiled at Leere. "It is nice to meet you."

"We're just in the process of rebuilding." Zizi explained as she took a seat on a nearby rock, too tired to stand any longer. "It might take a while for Hyrule to return to normal."

"With the dragons' help, it shouldn't be too bad."

Leere processed all of that. She curiously studied them closely. From the look of mistrust in Zolori's eyes and her tight body stance, the dreadlocks in Zizi's hair and her carefree aura, to the tattoos on Zarazu.

She looked to Covarog a bit shocked. "You...you're married."

"Hitched, united, joined in holy matrimony, mated, take your pick."

"Zolori!" Zarazu blushed slightly at that last synonym.

"Just wait until you hear the story of how they met, that's one for the history books."

"Zizi, not you too!"

"What? It's a good story!"

"Actually, it is a good story, ironic too." Covarog chuckled. "What brings you back after three years?"

"You mean besides hearing that Hyrule went to hell? I was worried that Dad might have gone off the deep end or another apocalyptic evil may have hurt you guys. Sorry I was late."  

"Apocalyptic? Yeah. Evil? Definitely. Defeated and out of this realm? Check." Zolori checked off her imaginary list. "All thanks to the efforts of my sister, her buff husband and everyone else."

"Princey-Pooh went down once but came back up." Zizi munched on her snack. "It takes a lot to keep him down."

"Zizi, we talked about the nicknames." Covarog sighed in exasperation.

"What? Kingy-Kun doesn't care."

"My father doesn't care about that kind of thing."

"Still. It's cute."

"Kingy-Kun???" Leere snorted. "I like that."

She looks at Zarazu again. The Queen was indeed a fine woman. Smiling she whispers to Covarog. "Popped your cherry huh? Was it everything you imagined?"

"Leere!" Covarog turned red all the way to the tips of his ears.

Zarazu blushed as well, trying to keep her composure.

"Just asking~"

She goes to Zarazu and shakes her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you Zarazu. I'm glad to have another sister."

"And one big scaly baby to boot." Zolori added.

"Yeah, Ba'puu won't leave Zarazu alone for long." Zizi took a sip of her water.

"It's always nice to have a big family." Zarazu returned the hand shake. "I'll have some others to introduce you to later, but first, maybe we should find you something to eat."

"Thank you. Because too tell you the truth I am famished." She looked to Zolori and Zizi, moving to politely shake their hands. "Nice to meet you two as well."

"Maybe you gained three more sisters." Zizi held up a piece of tangerine. "We don't have any meat at the moment, just fruits, veggies, and some bread. Hope that's okay."

"Pumpernickel or wheat?" Zolori offered a slice. "I think we got some sourdough somewhere."

"You can camp with Zizi and Zolori if you wish." Zarazu suggested. "Covarog and I will stay with Ba'puu."

"Can I say I love your outfits. Wonderful blend of elegant, free, and a dash of sexy~" She smiles at Zolori in particular. "You keep mentioning this Ba'Puu. He a brother of yours?"

"Glad you approve and if I liked the same team, you're easily a ten, but you might be better off approaching another lady." Zolori shook her head. "No, he's Zarazu's baby. Our nephew."

"Zolori jests." Zizi told Leere. "He's Zarazu's dragon."

"An extremely clingy, sassiest of sassy, giant water baby." Covarog described Ba'puu with a roll of his eyes. "Refuses to be separated from my wife for too long."

"Now, now, Ba'puu isn't that bad. He was raised by a human, not a dragon so he's bound to be a little..." Zarazu stopped when Covarog gave her look. "... okay, he's a little attached to me at the hip."

Leere picked that up again. "Dragon? You have a baby dragon as a family member?"

"He's an adult now, I took him in as a baby." Zarazu clarified as she put a blanket on Covarog's shoulders. The night's chill was already blowing across the hills. "And growing all the time."

"More like she has an army of dragons." Covarog assured his sister. "Good dragons though. No human eaters. Actually have human riders."

"Huh...I'll go bunk with Zolori and Zizi as I'm guessing my room is probably rubble."

"Everything is rubble." Covarog sighed. "The castle, the town, even the port. It will take a lot of building and patience, but we'll get Hyrule back to its former glory."

"Zizi sleeps in a hammock, so I'll roll out a sheepskin for you." Zolori told Leere. "Unless you prefer a hammock."

"I'm fine with either. Slept in crypts before." She turns to Covarog. "I don't want to wake up being dragged out by you, Ral, or Orana into the crying arms of Kanisa or Tebby Bear."

"Better go say hi after you finish eating then." Covarog told her as he pulled his wife in closer for warmth while the two of them nibbled on food. "Make sure you don't scream if you see dragons anywhere. It will just annoy them."

"Like you screamed around the Redeads~"

"Heh, not much to be jealous of. We have more to the family for you to meet." Covarog was ready to rest for the day. After trying to clear a lot of rubble and talk to the people, he was all for some sleep. Of course, he and Zarazu had no privacy, so there would be no nocturnal fun. "Get some rest, Leere."

"Sure thing 'little' brother." She leans up on her tippy toes to give him as kiss on the cheek. Patrolling the castle she found the rest of her family relaxing with the latest grub. "Hey! How you doing!"

~

It took some explaining and a couple of laughs, but Leere was able to meet her new family members. Cass was proud to introduce little Ukuri, who was already a few months old. She was a happy baby, did not cry much unless she was wet or hungry. Ralnor seemed a bit lighter instead of the usual doom and gloom. Corsaire, the pirate captain, was less of a surprise to Leere. She always knew that Orana would seek out that pirate from the books she loved as a kid. What was surprising was how the two of them took on a kraken together and lived to tell the tale. After saying hello to Kanisa and Tebanam, it was time to sleep.

Leere dotted over little Ukuri. "Awwww. I'm your Aunt Leere. You ready for sleep? Need a sucker for the little sucker~"

"She's still on the breast, no sugar." Ralnor turned his sister away from the baby. "You can coo over her tomorrow. She has a sleep schedule and it cannot be interrupted."

"He's very strict about the sleep schedule." Cass told Leere with a brief chuckle. "No interruptions."

"Still picky over the tiniest things. Never change Ralnor."

Later that same night Leere was groaning in her sleep. She felt restless like this. Having gone to what was left of her room she was disheartened to find her favourite blanket torn in two, along with most of her possessions torn into pieces. Lucky she was able to grab fresh clothing of hers before going to bed for the morning.

Waking up she felt incredibly groggy. "Need. Caffeine...."

"Good thing I grow coffee beans." Zizi was hanging upside down outside of Leere's tent. There was a huge tree, full of swinging vines that Zizi and Skull Kid made a home in for the time being until the forest was healed. She made sure to situate it near her and Zolori just incase she needed. "Zolori can roast them for you."

"Thanks monkey girl..." Leere rubbed her eyes as she got up, putting a clean bra and shirt on. "Don't worry, I can get a kettle or something."

"Good luck finding one in the rubbish." Zizi held out a motar and pestle. "This works just as..." Her sentence trailed off when she noticed the dark magic markings on Leere's back. While Covarog's family still had hints of dark magic usage, it still unnerved her, especially since this one was dealing with necromancy. She recalled Klinge saying something about how he didn't like to be controlled. Maybe this was the person who did such a thing to him. "Well."

"Thanks, I'm pretty handy." She notices the way Zizi is looking at her. "What's up?"

"Nothing, just admiring the ink." Zizi wiggled her left leg, thinking fast. "Got some myself. Zolori is fixing some breakfast too, so help yourself."

Leere smiles to defuse the tension best she can. "Of course. Hope she good at cooking as she is good looking."

Leere gets up and heads out to have some food, waving nicely to Zolori. Too bad she wasn't gay. "Morning."

"She hasn't killed anyone with food poisoning yet, but has a tendency to burn things."

"I heard that!" Zolori yelled from the cooking site. "I like it burnt!"

"Normal people don't!"

"Says you!"

"Says everyone!"

"Oh, go kiss the pranking undead kid!"

"You go kiss Vul'kar's ass!"

"I'll burn your eggs!"

"I'll go find more!"

Zolori handed Leere a leaf, placing some eggs and bread on it.

"Coffee will be ready in a minute."

"Thank you, I'm sure it's fine." One bite into the burnt eggs and Leere's face scrunched up. She contorted a smile as she kept eating it. "V-very nice. Maybe a more rare in the future?"

"... sorry. I think it's a Vatra thing." Zolori switched the eggs out with some ones that were less burnt, taking the burnt ones for herself. "We like things burnt."

"So where's your flint?"

"Flint? Don't need it." Zolori held out her hand, and snapped her fingers. The fire appeared in her palm, swirling there. "Just like Zizi doesn't have a green thumb, she literally is the green thumb."

Leere's eyes glowed with the fire, memorized by the flame. "Elemental magic? Are all Lorliedians capable of magic?"

"Yeah, all of us are. Just appears at different ages." Zolori shrugged her shoulders as she munched on a piece of toast. When the coffee started boiling, she then took it off the flame. Pouring an amount into a clay fired cup, she offered it to Leere. "I was a teen when my flames appeared, Zizi was around seven when plants sprouted, and Zarazu was... three I think? Water first, icy talent came later." Taking a sip of the coffee herself, Zolori then counted on her fingers. "Water, fire, wind, earth, metal, lightning, and spirit. So that's Voda, Vatra, Vjetar, Zemlja, Kovina, Munja, and Dusa. Take your pick."

"That's amazing. So much life in your magic. So in tuned with the Earth." She takes the coffee and smiles. "This is damn good coffee."

"Glad you like the coffee." Zolori extungished the flames with a wave of her hand. "You think that's something, just wait until you meet an elder. Much more impressive stuff." Standing and stretching, she then said, "Might want to check with Covarog to see where you can help. I'm stuck with helping Kovinas salvage metal. If you need anything else as far as food goes, just check with Zizi. And watch out for Mask-For-Faces, he's gotten wind that you're back."

"Skull Kid? He's just mad I seduce everyone he likes~" After the coffee she sets her cup down. "Thanks. I'm going inspect the castle and later the countryside for damages."

"Well, more specifically casualties."

"Heh, let me know when you and Rinku save the date." Zolori sighed and then frowned. "We found most of the bodies, but feel free to knock yourself out and dig through rubble for any belongings."

"Yeah. I'm sure you were very precise." She walks to the castle and lays a hand out on the rubble. Concentrating she closes her eyes. The cold flesh buried underneath, alone and, for now, preserved by rock and wood and metal.

"I'll start digging. I want to talk to your sister sometime. Get a better feeling on her."

Zolori felt a chill travel up her spine. Dark magic, Lorleidians were super sensitive to it. The sole existence of the Lorleidian people was to balance the light with the dark. Still, even after all this time of combating it, the magic still gave her the creeps.

"Zizi? Or Zarazu?"

"The one who's married to my brother honey." She starts crawl around the rubble.

"Zarazu?" Zolori wondered what Leere's intentions were. "Anything you wanna ask that you think she might not answer?"

"That's for her, not you. No offence." Leere gets close to a buried body and starts digging.

"If you wanna know how much they fuck, that's easy, like... oh I don't know. Every day?" Zolori was trying to think of a number and found she couldn't, but it was in at least double digits. "Though you should know, Zarazu's a kind soul until you mess with someone she loves. That's all I can really say. Otherwise, feel free to question away."

"Good. Then you won't mind getting her for me."

Leere tore some wood beams away to discover a young girl. Just a poor little maid. Taking a deep breath she laid her fingers on the frame of the deceased's skull.

She saw the darkness over taking the sky, felt the fear that the young girl felt that turned into utter panic when she saw an Abyssian. It was such a contorted creature. She ran away as fast as she could, only to look up as the ceiling came down upon her.

Sighing Leere remained neutral, closing the girls eyes. "Be at peace...."

"Zarazu's helping get some fish right now for eating, but you can talk to her after that."

"Very well. Tell her I'll be waiting by the courtyard."

~

And that she did. For two full hours. "I bet Zolori didn't even tell her. Freaking blondes..."

"Zolori did tell me, though there is such a thing as having to cater to your people." Zarazu finally appeared in the demolished courtyard. She smelled like fish and had her hair pulled back from her face. After distributing the food to her people, she took the leftovers to the dragon mothers who were unable to hunt because of watching their hatchlings. "I apologize for taking so long. Is something amiss?"

"No. No. I just wanted to get to know you a little better is all. After all, you're married to the man who I had to read bed time stories to."

"Heh... well, I'm not occupied for the next couple of hours." Zarazu was exhausted and simply sat down on a free patch of grass. "I'm sorry I'm not more presentable."

"That's alright. You look fine to me. It wouldn't be inappropriate to ask for your tailor would it?" Leere sat beside her.

"We actually make our own clothes and patterns." Zarazu laughed softly. "Let me know which pattern you like and maybe when I get my hands on some materials, I'll show you how."

"Thank you. It has a much more elegant belly dancer look to it." Leere took a breath of the air. "Thank you for protecting the people of this land to the best of your ability. I regret heavily not being here."

"To be honest, I was at odds with Ganondorf at first but... sometimes, it takes two people to right the wrongs of the past." Zarazu had nothing to hide. "Slowly, but surely, this became a new home where we could grow and... surprisingly, I found love."

"Yeah. How did you meet my brother?"

"That's the ironic part actually..." Zarazu admitted sheepishly. "We tried to kill each other at first at his birthday party when I took back the artifacts Ganondorf took from my people. Then when he followed me to Lorleidi, we um... were better known with each other during a week or so. Got past the bias, and talked... then Vul'kar happened."

Leere snickered loudly at the party. "That's too funny. I'm sure it was a very romantic first impression. So Vul'kar. Big scary demon I'm guessing?"

"Abyssian." Zarazu was not sure how much she should elaborate. "Locked away wrongly for loving someone and creating the first mixture between light and dark; the Twili. Went insane, attacked the whole world for what happened to him. Wanted it to be swallowed in the darkness he knew."

"Good job on stopping him. How about a lighter mood." She grins from ear to ear. "You got to tell me, did you make the first move for nocturnal activity? I couldn't see Covarog being brace enough to move in on a woman of your caliber~"

Zarazu's face turned redder than a strawberry.

"... yes." She couldn't look Leere in the eye.

Leere tips Zarazu's chin to look at her. "Cute. Very cute~ Can see easily why he fell for you." Tickling her chin Leere leaned back with a chuckle. "So I guess you and Covarog will be the new sovereigns in a few years? Maybe a couple kids?"

"I... suppose." Zarazu really was not sure how ascending the throne worked in Hyrule. "When Ganondorf and Zelda are ready to retire, we'll take over of course, but... as far as children, we're waiting for Hyrule to be stable again. It wouldn't be fair to a child to neglect it over the needs of a kingdom. I know Zelda has her ways, and has spoken of nannies, but in Lorleidian culture, the mother cares for the babies unless she's unable."

"Very noble. Must be a little hard though, what with Cass taking the lead."

"No, I'm happy for Cass and Ralnor." Zarazu smiled. "Covarog is delighted for his brother. He swears Ralnor smiles more often now, and there's actually a light in his eyes. I'm in no rush. Besides, I have Covarog to focus on right now. A baby will come later."

Leere nods in happiness. "Wise for such a young woman."

"You raise two sisters and a baby dragon, you learn some things.”

"I bet. So as Queen of the Magic Islanders, got anything cool?"

"...? Anything cool?"

Leere shrugs. "You know. Relics, magic, other worldly powers?"

"Oh! Well... I'm a Leden Voda." Zarazu held out her hand, touching Leere's coffee cup. The liquid instantly turned to ice before returning to a normal liquid. It sloshed around a bit before resuming a calm state in the cup. "I can control water and ice. Most Vodas only control water and can move ice, but cannot form it."

Leere takes a sip. "Your iced coffee is something to be desired. Anything else? How'd you get your tattoos?"

"This is a tattoo of a whirlpool that I had done myself." Zarazu pointed to her stomach. "The ones on my arms are from the Seven Siblings, the spirits who granted us these abilities. Each tribe has their own type of tattoo to honor the spirit from which has blessed them."

"May I feel them?"

"Of course." Zarazu held out her arm. "Don't be alarmed if they glow. It's normal."

"Better then my tattoo." Leere felt them, surprised by how smooth her skin was. "Very moisturized. I like that. I can tell you'll be naturally young for years to come."

"Thanks. If you want a tattoo later, I'll hook you up with Kolkov. Looks like a brute, but is the best one we have at tattooing." Zarazu offered. "Lorleidians usually live long lives anyhow. Current age to beat is 131."

"Impressive. I'm sorry you lost your home, but I'm glad your culture survived. Your sisters told me that your magic covers all the elements of the Earth. I respect the light in that type of magic you have."

"Lorleidians exist to keep the balance. That's what I've always been told." Zarazu then asked. "I'm glad that you returned home safely. I know that when a family member is away from others, it makes them worry about you."

"Indeed. My work and quest for knowledge keeps me far from home. They also bring me hope when I need it the most."

"Now you're making me feel like an old sage." Zarazu knew that wisdom came with age but she supposed her experiences resulted in her gaining some earlier than normal. "

"You're not old yet. Take it from me." Leere looked around her surroundings. "How do your people deal with life and death?"

"Life and death? We do belief in the afterlife and death is just another part of the journey, if that's what you're asking." Zarazu clarified. "We have the God of Life and Goddess of Death, stories going back as old as Hylia and Demise."

"Interesting. What are their names?"

"Heh... ironically enough, Ba'puu and Zarazu. My father had a... twisted sense of humor."

Leere held her hand gently. "I understand. My birth father named me after emptiness. I'm not actually Hylian."

"I could kinda tell that from the skin and the hair... and the eyes." Zarazu remarked with a slight chuckle. "Not Hylian, not Gerudo... maybe... this legendary Garai tribe that Tebanam insists exists?"

"Did some tracking down, but part of a people called the Mortuus. Very vague though on who they are, except the name. Don’t think it matters though." Leere took a deep inner breath. If she was family now, she'd need to know.

"How do you see dark magic, especially around death?"

"Dark magic is, was, the sole purpose of why my people were created." Zarazu regretted to look on Leere's face. "Lorleidians are here to keep balance. Our job is to eradicate dark magic, especially if it is a threat to others. Since joining the Dragmire family, I've gotten used to seeing other sides of dark magic, but... some of my people..." She sighed. "Since Vul'kar and his blackness, they're more on guard than ever. I understand that some dark magic can be used for good, it's just... when you see it being used for evil so much, it's difficult to accept. I hope you understand that I'm trying my best not to be biased."

Leere nodded understandably. Was going to be harder then she thought. She stood up and looked down at her. "How much do you know of necromancy?"

"I haven't had much experience with necromancy." Zarazu was honest. "Most of Vul'kar's magic was just... brute power. Mind tricks, nightmares, controlling against the will, even necrosis."

"Do you know what necromancy is?"

"The use of the dead... to..." Zarazu thought about how to word it. "Carry out said person's wishes?"

"Very textbook. Necromancy allows you to control flesh, blood, muscle and bone once the soul has passed. It lets you connect with wandering souls on a spiritual level. Construct and summon creatures, sometimes demons of the dead and darkness. And if you are willing to sacrifice, bring back those that have long since been gone."

"And I'm assuming that bringing someone back is a big risk?"

"If you aren't willing to sacrifice other lives that is."

"A life for a life... it makes sense."

"It's a cost I'd never take..."

"I don't think I could either if I had that sort of magic." Zarazu thought of all the people she lost in the battle with Vul'kar and old Pojiji. "There are many people I miss... some I didn't even know that I wanted to. Though the only comfort I have is that one day, I'll see them again. No pain, no tears... just joy."

"I hope I get that chance, if my soul isn't dammed." Leere held her heart. "Zarazu. I'm a necromancer. Hyrule's strongest, and most knowledgeable. Even able to perform taboo blood magic."

"... in my culture, a soul isn't damned unless they’re willing to turn to evil." Zarazu thought about her words before she spoke. "So unless you're planning on raising an undead army to conquer the known world... in my book, I think you have a fair chance."

"I could do that. Even have the knowledge to transfer souls. It's about a willingness to do so. You aren't...weary of me are you?"

"I'm not weary, just cautious of your power." Zarazu admitted. "I've dealt with a lot of dark magic before concerning Vul'kar and his lackeys. I've seen what dark magic can do."

"Of course. Wise Zarazu. I can do much, but my specialty it summons. Used to place zombified heads around to scare my siblings. Would you like a quick demonstration?"

"I think I'm good with the demonstration of zombie heads." Zarazu quickly dismissed that idea with a weak chuckle. "I could deal without a scare."

"It's not too bad. I could range from a few Dead Hands, or less scary spooky skeleton warrior. Also have a pet Wall Master I nicknamed Lefty." Leere gave a warm inviting smile. “Just to show its not entirely bad.”

"Let's just do whatever is less... scary."

"Skeletons it is!" Leere took a few steps back and grinned. Raising a hand she effortlessly summoned a few skeletons. Their bones cackled as they rose from the earth, but were clear white. With additional effort she got them to dance. "Does the fair Queen like her show?"

Zarazu jolted, unable to help her reaction. Experiencing Vul'kar was one thing, but this was a whole new area of dark magic. Try as she might, the queen was still unable to be completely at ease. While the dancing was... impressive, for lack of better word, Zarazu knew she would feel much better once the skeletons were back in the ground.

"I think---"

Before she could deliver an answer, Ba'puu made his presence known. He was never too far from his mistress. Zarazu told him she would be by the lake for a visit after a meeting with another member of Covarog's family. However, it looked like she was in trouble with dark magic. He could sense it. He could sense her unease. Vul'kar came close to killing his mistress. Never again would he allow someone to hurt her. As long as he was alive, the water dragon was going to ensure his beloved human lived to see old age and be happy with all her years. With a roar, his mighty fore paw slammed the woman into the ground.

Leere felt bad for Zarazu, could sense her discomfort. The poor thing must have been through a lot. She was about to release her grip on the two jolly skeletons when her body was slammed down from behind by an unknown force and her small frame was easily knocked out as her head cracked against the ground, bleeding her forehead from the impact. The skeletons crumbled away back into the earth as her mind momentarily slipped away.

"BA'PUU!!!" Zarazu shouted at his sudden attack, standing over the exposed portion of Leere's pinned form. "NO! No, no!"

"It's dark magic! Undead magic!" Ba'puu roared. "I won't let it hurt you!"

"She's not an enemy, good spirits, let her up!"

"What do you mean she's not an enemy?! I saw the skeletons! She was going to attack you!"

"No she wasn't, it was just a demonstration!"

"What?!"

"She's the other sister that Covarog was telling me about!"

"That's not Orana or Kanisa."

"She's adopted! Let her up!"

"... are you sure? I could crush her right now."

"NO! No crushing, let her up!"

Leere's magic started to stir her awake in an unconscious state, a protective safeguard against sudden trauma. A few dead hands rose from the ground, albino white with patches of blood and unnatural finger tips, and they clawed and nudged him to let go, others trying to get a grip and pull him off. Luckily they only scratched at his scaly and well protected arm. Leere groaned heavily in a concussed haze. The hands kept slowly rising, their only will to protect their injured master.

"... fine... but one wrong move, and she's a pile of ash."

Ba'puu reluctantly lifted his paw and easily crushed the hands, still too paranoid about the latest events.

"Leere! Oh my spirits, I'm so sorry!" Zarazu helped Leere roll over and looked at the bleeding gash on her forehead. Taking the sash from her waist, the queen used it to press against the cut. It was all she had here and was not sure if her healing magic would help since it was light magic. It was better to be safe to avoid an adverse reaction. "Are you okay?! Do you have any broken bones?! Can you understand me?!"

Leere looked around as her vision was blurry. Her hand lowered the Dead Hands to retreat back into the Earth, at least for now. "What...the fuck...happened....Was I…stepped on???"

My dragon happened." Zarazu shot Ba'puu a look.

"I was protecting you, I'm not going to apologize." Ba'puu chuffed, still standing with his tail flicking back and forth angrily. "What the hell is that woman?"

"If I knew you practiced dark magic I could have told him but I didn't know---damn it, I'm so sorry about this."

Having met a Hylian Dragon once she learned about the telepathy of Dragons and their kin. This particular one had an annoying arrogance in his voice. "You...asshat. Go fly into a hornets nest. What kind of child attacks a woman from be-" Leere lurched up and threw up some bile. She needed immediate medical attention. Magic preferably. "Fountain....take me to the fountain south of the castle, under the cave."

"Too big for a hornet's nest, dumbass." Ba'puu snorted. "I do whatever is necessary to protect my mistress."

"I can heal but it's light magic?" Zarazu then heard Leere's instructions. "A fountain? I can summon water here!"

"Or I can dunk her in the lake."

"Ba'puu, hush."

"Fuck you fatass. I can see you eat too much to be small." Leere put her arm around Zarazu for support. "It's a healing spring. Hidden. I think you'll like it."

"... never mind the lake, I'll just take her to the deepest depth of the ocean."

"Ba'puu! You're not helping!" Zarazu apologized for her dragon. "I'm sorry, he's usually not like this at all, he's just spooked by the dark magic."

“I’ll take your word about him with a grain of salt for now.” Leere groaned as they made their way. "Should have adopted a Dinosaur. So much cooler."

Hey Reluctant you remember that tragic fic you wrote about Dorian leaving Varlen bc he refused to stay behind while Dorian went to Tevinter? since I've been thinking about it again and it's re-broken my heart, could you pretty please maybe do a short sequel where Varlen follows Dorian to Tevinter anyway and keeps him safe from the shadows, something with a happy ending? Bc I'm dying still thinking about my boys sad and lonely even if the fic isnt technically canon its still breaking my heart ;~;

PHEW. Sorry about this taking SO LONG to actually get to, but it ended up much longer than I anticipated. Because of that, I have uploaded it to AO3 in chapters for ease of reading (LINK HERE), but will also put it here for people who don’t mind… y’know… a lot of scrolling >.>

Also HERE is the break-up fic in question, in case people are interested

Things Thought Lost (Pavellan, Post-Trespasser)

Varlen Lavellan x Dorian Pavus, approx 8500 words. CW: violence, attempted assassination.

“Magister Pavus?”

Dorian groaned softly, the fingers of hisleft hand rubbing a tired circle against his temple. “Yes, yes. What is it?”

The scribe entered; a mouse of a thing calledAdiran. New to the household, he bobbed his head deferentially, and with theMaker as his witness, Dorian swore the young man’s knees were trembling.“T-There has been a change of venue for your meeting with Magister Tellene.Instead of the upper chambers, she has requested you meet her at the,u-um…“ He paused, glancing hurriedly at his board, which quivered andjumped in the air. “The Gilder.”

One dark brow arched high on Dorian’sforehead. “Harbour-side? An interesting choice for a lady with such a notabledislike of salt air.” The young man opened his mouth as if to beg apology, butDorian quickly waved a hand. “No matter, no matter. Thank you, Adiran. Informher that I will be present at the agreed upon time.” Typically, Dorian wouldmake a show of rescheduling entirely, as was common practice within theImperium when one wanted to assert one’s status over another. Or be a little petty. However,if he was to ever bring forth discussion of the treatment of slaves in themagisterium, he needed Tellene on side. She was old blood – something that carriedgreat weight in a nation stained red. Her support would be invaluable. Despitehis better judgement, he had little choice but to attend whatever she deignedto organise. If he did not establish an alliance now, someone else wouldinevitably beat him to it. It was not something he could afford.

Sighing softly, he pushed himself to hisfeet, chair sliding out behind him along the soft carpet. Moving to thefloor-length mirror, Dorian took a moment to adjust his attire, tugging hisrobe slightly, reasserting the perfectly effortless flow required of his cloak.He would not be wearing his insignia of office this time. Not if he was toventure so far from the heart of the Magisterium. It would be interesting, hesupposed. He had yet to visit the harbour since his magnificent return toTevinter. It held a rather significant number of fond memories.

All he hoped was that the meeting would gosmoothly, and those memories would not be replaced by something comparablydark.

The Gilder was decidedly… unremarkable. Nice,mind you, but most things in that part of the city could at the very least bedescribed as nice. Dorian exited his carriage with a nod to his driver, Valus, who wouldwait for however long the meeting took. Adiran hurried out behind him, carryinga stack of papers and ink to transcribe should the casual conversation take amore formal turn. It might not be needed, but Dorian always found it better tobe prepared, and the young man seemed as though he would benefit from theexcursion.

“Try to calm down,” he said to Adiran as they approached the establishment. “I brought you here as a member of myhousehold staff. Do try to look the part, yes?”

“Y-Yes, Magister Pavus.” Adiran swallowedtightly, sweat beading on his brow. “I’ll… I can do it. I’ll be fine.”

Dorian’s expression softened slightly as theyascended the steps to the entrance. “There. That’s the spirit. Just stay withme and look interested in what’s happening.” He paused as Adiran hurriedforward to get the door, then as he passed, he fixed the scribe with a sidelongglance. “But not too interested.”

The young man paled again. It was a bit cruelto tease him, but Dorian couldn’t help himself. It was the sort of thing thatwould have earned a soft snort of amusement from his companions back inFerelden. A touch of the arm. A bright smile. Silver hair swept over oneshoulder, blue eyes gleaming with barely contained laughter…

Dorian caught himself mid-thought, startledthat his mind had wandered so far from its course. No. Now is not the time for such…distraction. He needed tobe focused. This meeting could make or break half a year’s worth of work. Ifhis thoughts were elsewhere, it could lead to disaster. He had to deny them, nomatter how desperately they wished to elope.

“The meeting is upstairs, Magister Pavus.”Adiran, who had been swift to hurry over to a richly attired man with a ledger,returned just as quickly, his brown hair tousled, green eyes bright withnervous energy. “Shall I lead the way and ah… introduce you? Is that, um… howthis goes?”

“Yes. If you please.” Dorian’s response wasclipped, his mind still distant as he followed the young man. Why think ofVarlen? Why now? Was it because there was so much at stake? Was it because he wasfeeling so very out of his depth?

Or was it because, if he were to be perfectlyhonest, he would give anything in the world for Varlen to be the one currently standing by hisside.

You are the one who set thatship to sail, you know, Dorianchided himself silently as he followed Adiran up two flights of carpeted stairsto the room. Thenyou launched a fireball and burned it to ash for good measure. You have no one toblame but yourself. He is not coming back.

It was a bitter thing, to consider how muchhe had already been forced to give up to become Magister Pavus. Maker’s breath,he had yet to decide if it had even been worth it. Perhaps, if he could doenough good here, he might be able to make it safe. Yes… yes, if he could dothat, Varlen might just…

Dorian’s thought was cut short as Adiranknocked meekly on the door of one of the rooms. Good grief, even his knock wasmouse-like. Dorian would have to work on that with him; give the young man abit more presence. It would do him no good to come across as so fragile. People arewant to take advantage of such individuals, particularly in the Imperium.

There was a soft affirmation from beyond thedoor, and Adiran took a steadying breath, steeling himself. He glanced back atDorian, who gave him an encouraging nod despite feeling almost sick with nerveshimself. But to offer support was only fair; Dorian had been the one to insiston Adiran’s involvement, after all. It was the least he could do. To Dorian’ssurprise, the young man actually mustered a flicker of a smile, standing alittle taller before turning the gold-coated handle and pushing open the door.It swung on perfectly oiled hinges, revealing the lamp-lit room beyond. Chin raised,knees still shaking slightly, Adiran stepped in ahead of Dorian, as wasprotocol. When he spoke, his voice rang out with unexpected clarity.

“Magister Tellene and valued associates, itis my honour to present the esteemed Magister Pavus, son of the late HalwardPavus, member o—”

It had been difficult for Dorian to keep aproud smile off his face at Adiran’s confident tone, but he had managed upuntil the young man suddenly cut off, his introduction coming to a jarring haltmidway through. Dorian frowned, brow creasing in mingled disappointment andconcern as he stepped forward to usher Adiran aside, assuming the scribe’snerves had simply overcome him. No matter. There would be other opportunitiesfor him to practice. He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder comfortingly butfirmly. “That is enough with the formalities for n…” Dorian halted the momenthe stepped up to Adiran’s side. He caught the young man’s expression. Adiran’sgreen eyes, once bright with nerves, were blown wide, staring down in shock.His head was barely tilted, frozen in place, colour draining fast from histanned skin. Bitter dread clawed up the back of Dorian’s throat, and almostreluctantly, he let his own gaze descend.

A hilt, adorned with delicate gold weave,jutted from the centre of Adiran’s stomach.

“Fasta-vass!” Doriansprang into action, his time spent fighting with the Inquisition far fromforgotten. Magic leaped to his fingertips in less than a frantic heartbeat, butfor once the destructive fire of his youth was not the first thing to rise tothe occasion. Instead, a barrier rippled around Dorian and the young man,wrapping them in a familiar hum of energy, and it was just in time as anotherdagger streaked towards them only to be turned aside by the magical shield. Ahigh, panicked whine crawled up the back of Adiran’s throat as blood began toseep around his fingers, wrapped almost protectively around the hilt of theblade. Dorian drew the young man close, hooking him around the waist to keephim on his feet. “Stay with me.” He clenched his teeth as he fought to maintaintheir defences as another projectile – one far less mundane – was repelled. “Do not pullthat out, do you understand? Stay with me.”

There were four figures in the room and nosign whatsoever of Magister Tellene, save the fact that she was likely behindthe foul play. Just four assassins against one mage and a young man whose skinhad already drained of colour as he entered the first stages of shock. This wasbeyond bad. In fact, as Dorian attempted to back towards the door, eyesflicking between his assailants, he could think of few more potentially deadlysituations in which to find himself. Foolish. He shouldhave been more careful. Should not have rushed in so eagerly. His instincts hadwarned him, and he had ignored every last one of them.

Dorian’s father once said that a man’s worthcould be measured by his ambition. Dorian himself always fancied ambition to beworth remarkably little if, in its realisation, one fell to the folly of haste.

Just this once, he wished he had taken hisown damn advice.

Sweat beading on his brow, running down histemples, Dorian backed all the way to the door only to find it had somehow beenclosed behind him, the act going unnoticed in his rush to protect his scribe.He snarled; a surprisingly vicious sound; as an assassin started forward,intending to rush the barrier. Dorian snapped his hand to the side, three boltsof fire shooting from his palm to catch the cowled man mid-flight. The assassincried out, staggering, throwing his arms up to guard his face, but his clothingremained uncharred by the flames. In fact, the fire seemed to sweep pastharmlessly, repelled like water from oiled canvas. Of course.Yes, he should have guessed they would be ready for combat with a mage of hisparticular specialty. These were no mere hired blades, after all.

“Kaffas,” Doriangrowled, face set in a snarl as he chose lightning, charging a bolt in his palmand sending it lancing forward. It hit one assassin, then leaped to a second,but again the effect seemed almost laughable. They slowed under the assault,only human and unnerved by the display, but did not stop. For all his power,Dorian was little more than an inconvenience to them.By his side, Adiran’s breathing had started to come in short, panicked gasps;too little to fill the boy’s lungs. They didn’t have much time. He didn’thave much time. Turning, Dorian threw a hand towards the door, summoning magicto his palm and sending it scorching outwards in a bright, loud blast. If hecould get them out and summon the city guards, then perhaps—

The sound of shattering glass ripped Dorian’sattention back to the room even as the door buckled and blasted outwards. Theassassins standing by the window cried out in surprise, stepping away hastilyas a figure swung into the room. A blur of black and brown, the person hit theground, rolled, and was on their feet in less time than it took to bat an eye,twin blades flashing in their hands. For a moment, Dorian thought this might beanother assailant, come to ensure the job was done thoroughly. But before thatthought even reached completion, the stranger whirled on the assassins,slashing fast, feinting and dodging and weaving, harrying and harassing them inclose quarters. It seemed the stranger’s arrival was as much as surprise tothem as it had been to Dorian, and they scrambled to defend themselves,momentarily distracted from their quarry.

In the confusion, Dorian did the only thinghe could. Grunting, he hauled Adiran up and made for the door, almost trippingover the debris, staggering out into the hallway. The boy’s blood ran freelydown his front, now, staining the carpet red as they stumbled and wovechaotically. After a few hindered steps, Dorian opted to simply sweep the boyinto his arms, ignoring the shriek of pain Adiran let out at the movement. Thesound stole the breath from Dorian’s chest in the worst possible way and hegritted his teeth, trying not to give in to the rising panic. The guilt. Adiranshook in his arms, tense with pain, eyes glassy and wide as he stared down athis wound.

He’s just a boy. I shouldn’thave brought him. I shouldn’t have—

Dorian reached the stairs just as a form camehurtling out of the room’s shattered doorway, skidding into the hall, a horrorof black fabric and deadly blade. Assassin. Cursing,Dorian threw up another barrier, but before he could attempt to flee the mancrashed into him, sending both Dorian and Adiran to the ground. They hit hard,and Dorian rolled on instinct just as the assassin’s wicked blade slammed intothe ground where his neck had been. Whatever it was made of, it sliced straightthrough the floorboards as though they were paper. With little left to hisdisposal, Dorian kicked out, catching the assassin in the side, knocking himtowards the stairs. Unfortunately, the cloaked man managed to catch himself onthe first step, avoiding the damaging fall that might have followed, andimmediately launched himself back towards Dorian, who had barely had time tostagger to his feet.

Whether through skill or sheer luck, Dorianmanaged to catch the assassin’s wrists, that deadly blade stopping mere inchesfrom his chest. Both men grunted, snarling, one’s face hidden by a mask, the other’sexposed and desperate. Despairing. Livid. Adiran layin a crumpled heap, curled in on himself as if to guard the blade sheathed inhis stomach. He’sjust a boy. Dorian cried out, heavingback against the assassin, forcing the man back a half-step from the suddenforce of it. Justa boy. His grip tightened on theassassin’s wrists, clamping down hard, the fitted fabric of the man’s sleeveslipping down as they struggled for dominance. I should not have brought him. 

For a split second, Dorian felt warmth against his palms –skin – and quite literally seized the opportunity with both hands. Ignoring thethreat of that deadly blade, Dorian focused his magic, dropping his barrier anddrawing its power into his attack, feeling the energy coil and writhe inside him. Then,just when he could contain it no longer, he released it in a rush, theelectricity discharging with a muted crack directly into the assassin’s exposedskin. The man screamed, arching, grip tightening on his blade, neck snappingback, body shaking. Dorian refused to let go, his eyes on the assassin, hisheart on Adiran, his mind chanting a desperate mantra for it to all be over.The smell of something cooking, and then burning, rose thick in the air, untilthe assassin finally collapsed in a smoking heap on the floor. Without eventhinking, Dorian snatched the man’s blade and slipped it into his belt, themimmediately staggered over the corpse and towards the crumpled form of hisscribe.

“Adiran,” he rasped, exhausted, shaking as heturned the boy, rolling him onto his back. Dorian was greeted by the faintestof moans, but it set his exhausted heart racing again, newfound energy risingto flood his veins. “Come – that’s it. We’re fine. You will be fine.” Hegrunted, heaving the boy up again. Adiran did not cry out this time. In fact,he seemed barely aware of who Dorian was or what was happening, head lolling,eyes unfocused and half shut. Bitterly, Dorian could only think that was alllikely for the best.

Dorian did not exit via the front of theestablishment. The back door was closer, and his chariot was waiting down theside of the building. As soon as Dorian stumbled into sight, Valus,leaped to his feet, eyes blown wide with shock. “Get the door open,” Dorianordered as he ran towards it. “Now! Take us to Maevaris.” She had a spirithealer on staff – one who might be able to help. That was the boy’s onlychance, Dorian feared, and even then it was slim. As he and Valus heaved theyoung man into the carriage, Dorian eyed the wound and felt a sick sensationchurn in his stomach. Itwas bad. Any seasoned fighter wouldsay the same. A slow, painful way to go.

Once inside the wagon, Valus immediately setthe horses off at a canter, moving recklessly through the streets, hollering tomove people out of the carriage’s way. Inside, Dorian cradled Adiran’s head inhis lap, smoothing the boy’s hair, unable to find the words he deserved in sucha moment. His hand worked what little magic he had left, trying to numb thearea – ease the pain. Whatcould one truly say? 

“M… Magis…ter…” Adiran’s voice was barelyabove a whisper, and Dorian started, almost missing it for all Valus’ shoutingand rein-cracking.

“Shh, hush now,” Dorian murmured almostreflexively, reaching to wrap a hand comfortingly around the young man’s wrist.Holding him. What else could he do? “Save your breath. We are almost at thehealer.”

Adiran swallowed, flinched, then gasped atthe contraction, his hands twitching painfully around the embedded blade.“A-Are y… s-safe?”

The expression on Dorian’s face would havebeen comical had it not been lined so heavily by grief. “Foolish boy,” hechoked, shaking his head, fingers still combing soothingly through his tousledbrown hair that seemed immune to any form of taming. Sucking in a shakingbreath, Dorian pressed on, “I am fine, Adiran. Unharmed. You did well. You… didvery well.”

Had the young man been more present, he mighthave disputed that claim, given the circumstances. But instead his feverishgaze seemed to brighten ever so slightly as it drifted upwards, focusing on thejolting roof of the carriage. Their green was dimmer than before; wilting fastlike cut grass. All Dorian could do was helplessly beg the carriage to gofaster.

Maevaris, as always,moved with the efficiency of a woman whose world always ran on perfectschedule. The moment Dorian’s carriage pulled up, she appeared as thoughsummoned, whether warned by her own guards or Valus’ booming voice, Doriancould not say. Either way, it did not matter; the moment she saw Adiran shelaunched into action, sending a servant to fetch the healer before slidingbeneath Adiran’s other arm herself and helping Dorian carry the boy along.“Maker’s breath, what happened to him?” she demanded as they ran into themanor, a cot already being wheeled down the hallway from one of the nearbyrooms. “And if you are going to stop by unannounced, flowers never go astray.”

“Not now,” Dorian begged, andMaevaris seemed more than happy to oblige him in this instance. While boththeir instincts in the gravest moments were to make light, this time… this timeDorian just couldn’t bear it. What happened next was something of a blur, andthe next thing Dorian knew, the boy had been whisked away by not just onehealer, but a group, all speaking in fast, serious tones. The only thing thatstopped Dorian from following them instinctively was Maevaris’ steadying handon his shoulder. He turned to her, aggrieved, but she just shook her head, gazesympathetic but firm.

“Let them work, Dorian. There isnothing either of us can do for him now.” Her pale gaze drifted to where theyhad disappeared down the corridor, voices fading in the distance. “I do notknow who that boy was, but he is in good hands. The best, if Jahvri’srecommendations are to be believed.”

“One can only hope. Maker’sbreath…” Dorian sagged, andMaevaris quickly guided him over to a chair, steadying him by the arms as hecollapsed into it. “How?” he continued, shaking his head, curving forward andburying his face in his hands. “How did I let this happen?”

“Hush.” She pulled him in close,letting Dorian’s head rest against her stomach, holding him without a care forthe blood, both fresh and dried, that coated the front of his robe. “You will tell me what happened, Dorian… but not now. Youare safe here. That is what matters. Stay as long as you feel you must.”

“You are too good to me.”

“I am. But Maker knows you woulddo the same.”

To his credit, Dorian managed afaint smile at that. It was true, after all. But it wavered and fell all tooquickly. Maevaris, perceptive as ever, gave the excuse of fetching tea for themto drink. As if she did not have staff for such an endeavour. But regardless,she made herself scarce, offering Dorian a moment’s reprieve, and he wasgrateful for the solitude. Suddenly overcome by a wave of exhaustion,Dorian raised his hands to rub at his eyes, then jolted as thesight of his own bloodstained palms sent a spike of panic through him. Yes. Yes,of course. As if reading hismind, a servant appeared with a warm, damp cloth, offering it to him for thetime being and informing him a bath was being drawn and would be ready shortly.Maevaris was nothing if not a gracious host.

Sitting there, Dorian’s mindwandered back to that room at The Gilder. To the figure who had leapt in; asaviour of dark leather and flashing steel. Whoever that person had been,Dorian wagered he owed them his life. Perhaps even Adiran’s, if…

Dorian blanched and leanedforward heavily, resting his forearms on his knees, uncaring of how he mightlook to the guards flooding out to take up extra watch duties in the wake ofhis dramatic arrival. What he had done; attending that meeting; had been amistake he could not afford to make. Not now. Certainly not again. A singleerror of judgement could mean the end of everything. Of himself. Of others. He was more than just a lone agent – a pariah actingout against an established ideal. Finally, he was in a position where his voicecould be heard above the powerful ruling minority. If he allowed himself to besilenced through his own recklessness…

There was a sound from outside;men and woman shouting what sounded like a warning. Dorian launched to hisfeet, exhausted but rekindled by the thought that the assassins had givenchase. The idea that he might have brought danger to Maevaris’ house left himsick and hollow inside, but as he attempted to rush out a pair of guardsmenstepped in front of the door, blocking his path. “Apologies, Magister Pavus,”one said, “but we are under strict orders.”

Of course they were. Dorian’slips curled disdainfully, but quickly his rational side caught up, windingtight around his anger and stemming its flow. He was drained. Exhausted andbroken in too many ways. If he rushed out there, he would only be a liability.

A horn sounded – a few staccatobursts – and Dorian’s gaze flicked between the guards with an appropriate levelof indignation for his station. “At least tell me what is happening,” he said,seeking compromise. “I trust you can do that much, yes?”

After sharing a nervous glance,the other guard spoke, her voice ringing within her helm. “An attempted breachof the estate’s wall, Magister Pavus. That last call was to say whoever madethe attempt has been apprehended. They—”

Suddenly, the door behind theguards was thrown open, sending the pair staggering to the side and Dorianjumping back a step. Another group of Maevaris’ soldiers stormed in, a figuredragged between them, gripped tightly by the upper arms, surrounded by thethreat of blades. Dorian’s heart raced, but it seemed their captive was notputting up much of a fight; an occasional grunt and jerk of resistance when aguard got a little too rough or a blade slipped a little too close, but nothingmore. It was… well, rather strange. The group started moving past Dorian, their captive twisting,brown and black leather stained by blood…

… that was when Dorian recognisedwho it was.

“Wait! Stop!” Starting forward,Dorian placed himself between the guards and the hallway, cutting them off. Thegroup immediately halted. They might be under Maevaris’ employ, but they werenot so bold as to trample a Magister. Breathing harder than he had any need tobe, Dorian held out a hand. It was trembling. “Wait. I know that armour. Thisperson saved my life.”

There was a hush of uneasytension that filled the room. “Apologies, Magister, but we are under strictorders—” one of the guards began, but then the captive spoke over the top ofhim.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was deep.Earnest. Achingly familiar. Somethingtightened in Dorian’s chest, his eyes widening at the sound. No. Itcouldn’t be. “Itried to keep them all in the room, but one slipped past, and I’m…” The figureshivered and hung his head, still cowled and masked. Only his eyes werevisible, and Dorian caught a glimpse of them for the briefest moment. A bright,brilliant blue. “You got away.” The man continued weakly, almost to himself.Almost relieved. “Fora second I thought…”

“Release him,” Dorian breathed,stepping forward. But the guards did not comply, and his angerrose swiftly from the centre of his chest. “Did you not hear me? I said—”

“It is all right.” Maevaris’voice rang clear and crisp through the room. She had entered with a servantbearing a tray of tea, and while she seemed wary, her ability to read Dorianlike an open book spurred her to act. She met Dorian’s grateful gaze and noddedto the guards. “Let him go.”

Immediately, the guards releasedthe cowled man, who grunted and rubbed his arms where he had been held. Then,slowly, he straightened, his gaze rising to meet Dorian’s. They held eachother’s stares for a time, neither entirely sure of what to say. What to do. Dorian’s mind was little more than a whitewash ofemotion, fuzzy and uncertain, relieved and terrified all at once.

What was he doing here? How did he…?

“If you’re going to shout at me,can we at least do it without an audience?” Varlen’s voice was the same asDorian remembered, but somehow different as well. Harder. Colder.

“I’m not…” Dorian trailed off,then licked his lips, glancing about the room full of armed men and women.“Maevaris, if you please… I would have a moment with this man. Alone.” Underher intense stare, Dorian gave her a pointed nod. “All is quite well. You havemy word. Is there somewhere we might speak? Preferably a room without yourdutiful guards present.”

“Dorian,” Maevaris said warningly, but at the look on hisface she just sighed, reaching up to rub her forehead with her fingertips.“Very well. Fine. This way.” She spared a glance for the newcomer. Or perhapsa glare wouldbe more fitting. “Attempt anything at all and I will have you skinned and wear you like acoat. Understood?”

Dorian imagined Varlen would havepaled beneath that mask, but his voice remained surprisingly resolute as hegave a small bow of his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

Yes ma’am. Ittook all Dorian had to suppress a cringe as Maevaris arched a brow at theimpropriety of it all. But he supposed, if nothing else, it was strangelycomforting to know that some things had not changed.

When the door closed behind them,the first thing Dorian did close the space between himself and the cowledfigure. His hands reached out, thumbs brushing along the sides of Varlen’s coveredface, both pleased and surprised to find his former lover did not jerk awayfrom his touch.

So, Dorian removed the mask.

The elven man’s features wereprecisely how he remembered, although he supposed he shouldn’t really besurprised. It had only been just over a year, after all, since they had gonetheir separate ways for good. Discarding the mask, Dorian’s hands returned asthough drawn by a mysterious force, ghosting along the sides of Varlen’s face, wantingso badly to feel the warmth of his skin, but uncertain of whether such intimatecontact would be welcome. Instead, he allowed himself a moment of indulgence,drinking in the sight that stood before him. Those bright blue eyes, that palevallaslin. Cheekbones that gave such pleasing shape to his face; lines Dorian hadonce loved to absently trace. They were more pronounced now, he realisedvaguely. Varlen had gotten thinner. Then again, Dorian figured they both hadneglected themselves in more ways than one. Nothing could drain a person quitelike constant, unwavering stress.

In Dorian’s distraction, it wasVarlen who was the first to speak. “Dorian… were you hurt?”

That question. Why did everyone always ask that first?Pain flickered behind Dorian’s eyes and he lowered his hands, stepping away,the image of Adiran shivering in his arms suddenly too vivid. Too overwhelming.“I am well, Varlen.” He paused, collected himself, then added. “And you? Icannot imagine your entry through the second-storey window was a comfortableexperience.”

A faint smirk flickered acrossVarlen’s lips and he shrugged, although a little stiffly. “It’s not so bad. Ifyou do it right.” With a sigh, he reached up, tugging down his hood, hairspilling from its confine to tumble down past his shoulders. Dorian’s eyeswidened at the sight. Still long, yes, but he wore it shorter than before. Thedemands of practicality. But more than anything, it was predominantly black.Dorian was stunned into silence for a good while, slowly taking in changes hethought he would never see. Varlen lovedhis hair, proud to wear the same silver as his mother and sister. Now, only afew inches of it had grown, catching the wavering lamplight, no doubt awaitingthe dyeing process. What followed the unveiling was an uneasy silence; one thatseemed better suited to a funeral procession than an untimely reunion of formerlovers. Then again, perhaps it was a perfect silence. After all, Dorian had noidea how to fill it.

Uncertainly, Varlen rose to theoccasion, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Dorian… I know this isn’twhat you wante—”

“No.” Dorian, it seemed, hadfound his voice. Funny, how easy it was to make the throw once the first stonehad been cast. Varlen blinked, uncertain of what to make of single word, butDorian just shook his head gently. “Varlen, if it is apology you areattempting, I would much rather you refrain.” He paused, a familiar discomfort gnawingat his stomach, but forced himself to continue. “I know that we left each otheron rather unfortunate terms. To putit mildly, of course. But if it is quite the same to you, I would rather notdwell on that particular conversation.” Themistakes that I made. “The… things that were said.”

Varlen licked his lips, and therewas an air of uncertainty to the movement. For a time, Dorian feared he haddone precisely the wrong thing; that their parting words might have beensomething Varlen needed to address and he had just crushed that need underheel. But then the elven man released a long-held breath, some of the tensionleaving his shoulders as he did so, and glanced up to meet Dorian’s gaze. “Yeah.All right, sure.” A faint smile quirked up the corner of his lips. “So… I takeit you’re not going to lecture me, then?”

“Come now, let’s not be entirely unreasonable.”

Varlen laughed, and Dorian foundhimself succumbing to the desire as well. It was a giddy feeling, especiallyconsidering what had just transpired, but a part of him simply couldn’t helpit. His scribe was barely clinging to life, he had nearly been assassinated,and now his former lover stood before him swathed in black like a murderer fromsome cautionary tale. But he was smiling. Laughing.

These were strange times indeed.

They quieted after a moment,returning to a kind of still contemplation of one another, eyes locked.Focused. Neither seemed willing to break the connection. “I… had considered anumber of outcomes. For my meeting with Magister Tellene, that is.” Dorian’sconfession was soft, and he shook his head, still not quite believing what washappening. “But this… well, this one hadcertainly failed to cross my mind.”

“I know.” Varlen was the first tobreak the stillness, looking away and moving over towards the window. He peekedthrough the curtains, squinting against the late-afternoon sun. What he waslooking for, Dorian could not say. “I got most of them,” he eventuallyexplained after glancing over his shoulder and catching Dorian’s perplexedexpression. “But one of the assassins slipped past. I tried to chase him down,but the others cut me off and…” He pulled his lower lip between his teeth, eyesflicking back out to the front of Maevaris’ estate. There was shame in theexpression. Whatever Varlen had intended, it clearly had not gone according toplan. Loose ends were always complicated, after all.

“I believe I ran into thatfellow, yes,” Dorian said. Varlen turned sharply at that, eyes widening inalarm, and Dorian quickly gave a placating wave of his hand. “Now, now, not tofret. He was… dealt with.”

“But the clothing they had on was—”

“You will find little in thisworld that is entirely mage-proof,Varlen.”

“Right. Yeah. Good point.” Varlencleared his throat, nodding and letting the curtain fall back into place as he steppedaway. He wiped his hands on his pants anxiously, and Dorian couldn’t help butfeel a pang of guilt. After all, he knew why Varlen might be in such a state.But before Dorian could find the correct words, Varlen turned to face him,expression tense. “Well, are you going to ask me or not?”

“Ask you…?”

“Why I’m here, Dorian.”

“Ah.” Dorian sighed, moving overto a sturdy mahogany table – a wood favoured by Maevaris and half themagisterium - and leaning against its edge. “Very well, then. Why are you here,Varlen?”

The elven man had seeminglyexpected an argument. He paused, mouth half open, and then closed it with aclick of his teeth. He was clearly on edge; Dorian could read that much, atleast. But despite it, Varlen pushed himself to speak. “I… heard rumours.”

Now it was Dorian’s turn tofrown. “You will have to be a tad more specific, Varlen. A great many rumours havecircled me of late.” He made a grand gesture at his bloodied robes. “Somewhat partof the office, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah, well… part of the job ornot, I didn’t like what I heard.” He was pacing now, that familiar restlessenergy demanding some kind of outlet. Dorian said nothing, simply lettingVarlen sort through his thoughts. “I’d begged Leliana to keep an ear to theground for me, and she…” He swallowed; shook his head. “People want you dead, Dorian. More than most Magisters.Which I guess is something of anachievement, but not exactly what I‘d been hoping to hear.”

“And that surprised you?”

“… No.” Varlen sighed, raking hisfingers through his hair. Silver fading to black. “Just… do you know what it’slike? To be so far away and hear reports like that? Over and over again? Firstit’s unnamed mercenaries. Then trained assassins. Then suddenly any wealthy altus who can afford morethan a single attempt on your life. Then the threats started coming from yourfellow magisters. Dorian…” Varlenshook his head, although he was unable to look over and meet Dorian’s gaze andhis voice dropped to barely a whisper. “What was I supposed to do? Wait until Igot the news that y… that you’d been…?”

The unfinished question was metwith silence, heavy and uncomfortable. Dorian knew what he should say. You were supposed to stay away. It is notsafe here for you. That was, after all, the bitter note on which they hadended their relationship. Dorian had thought cutting ties was the only way tokeep his amatus out of danger. But they were no longer a couple – there was nolonger that sense of obligation – and Varlen had still come to him.

“I don’t know, Varlen.” It wasthe most honest answer Dorian had given anyone since returning to the Imperium,and it seemed Varlen sensed that by the way his gaze finally flicked over and stayedfocused on him. “Things here… they have been difficult. On that matter, I willnot lie. What I am attempting here was always going to breed some measure of hostility.” Slowly, painfully, he offered a weak smile. “If it is anyconsolation at all… this is the closest anyone has ever come to completingthe deed. Your timing remains remarkable as eve—”

To Dorian’s surprise, Varlen snorted. He seemed utterly amused, andDorian stopped mid-sentence, uncertain what to make of the outburst. Anapologetic look washed over Varlen’s face and he cleared his throatuncomfortably. “Sorry. It’s just… this wasn’t the closest. Not really.”

Dorian felt his face go slack. “Itwasn’t?”

Varlen shook his head. “Therewere a few times. At night, mostly. At your estate. Some were ready withpoisons, waiting for you to head to your rooms for the evening. They planned toslip it into the water pitcher on your bedside table. Once was…” He paused, asif uncertain if he should continue, but after an encouraging nod from Dorian,he did. “It was your old scribe, Dorian. She was to deliver you a message, butthe parchment was soaked through with something.She wore gloves so she wouldn’t touch it, but knew you wouldn’t have any onafter dinner.”

My scribe. For thebriefest moment, Dorian’s mind flickered to Adiran, but he quickly shooed theimage away. No, not him. The one the boy had replaced. “I thought she had simply fled my employ, the same as some of the others,” he murmured.Feeling strangely unsteady, he reached out, groping behind him, dragging one ofthe chairs out from beneath the table and sitting down. “Corellia. She hadserved my family for years. It was a shock, mind you, but I imagined many of myfather’s old staff were less than pleased by my replacing him.” Then, Dorianlooked up, grey eyes finding Varlen and fixing on the man. “So she… did you…?”

“I had to.” His voice was barelyabove a whisper, and Varlen closed his eyes, turning away. “She wanted to killyou, Dorian. What choice did I have?”

Dorian’s heart felt like stone,heavy and coarse. “Was she the only one? Among my household.”

“No.”

“And did you…?”

“Yes. I did.” Varlen let out ashivering breath, but opened his eyes again. Just a touch. But he did not lookat Dorian, and there was something defeated in the expression on his face. WhenVarlen worked up the will to speak again, his voice was hoarse, thick with a hurt that could not bedescribed. To hear it tore Dorian apart.

“I’m sorry, Dorian. For all ofit. I know you cared about them, but I couldn’t just let them go.” Hisvoice had risen as he spoke, edging into something panicked and desperate.“M-Maybe I shouldn’t have done it. Come here. Interfered. I just…” His voice cracked,and something inside Dorian cracked with it as Varlen turned away sharply,almost desperate to look away. “I didn’t think it would be so…”

“Varlen… come now, none of that.”Dorian rose quickly, ignoring the lurch of unsteadiness that accompanied themovement, and crossed the room in a few long strides. He reached out, takingVarlen by the shoulders, finally seeing the pain the man had been sodesperately trying to hide. Perhaps the mask had allowed him to pretend, for atime. Perhaps it had let him pretend it was someone else holding the blade and taking the lives. Now,that dark cloth lay abandoned on the floor, a black stain on Maevaris’ plush carpet.Dorian wanted nothing more than to burn it to ash. “Varlen… look at me.Please?” Slowly, the elven man’s gaze drifted up, glassy but stubborn, refusing to give in to the threat of likely much-needed tears. Dorian smiledfaintly and brushed a strand of hair from Varlen’s face. “I owe you my life, itseems. Many times over. What you have done… it is a debt I can only ever hopeto repay.”

Varlen just nodded, but the movementwas stiff. With a pang, Dorian realised that was not what he should have said.Wincing internally, the mage forged onward. He had to find what Varlen needed tohear. “What you have endured… I can only imagine how difficult it must havebeen. Tell me; were you alone?”

“Leliana,” Varlen murmured, eyeson Dorian’s chest rather than his face. “She would send information. Leads. Ijust followed them. Got in the way as often as I could.” He paused, and thenadded even more softly, “Some were… harder than others. There aren’t manyplaces for someone like me to go here, when things go wrong.” He snorted dryly. “You were right about that much, at least.” There was abitterness to that last remark that stung like a slap.

“Oh Varlen…” Unable to helphimself, Dorian just pulled the elven man into an embrace, holding him tight.At first, Varlen remained rigid, the way one might when dragged into anunexpected hug by an acquaintance. Polite endurance, nothing more. But then,after a few tense beats, he relaxed. Leaned into the embrace, wrapping his ownarms around Dorian and pulling him close, burying his head in the crook of hisneck. For a moment, everything almost felt like before. Dorian closed his eyes.Breathed in the familiar scent of his amatus. Maker’s breath…

Dorian had no idea how badly hehad missed this. How badly he had missed him.

“I have made so many mistakes,”Dorian murmured, shaking his head slightly, arms refusing to let go of Varlen.“More than I have any right to. But… how we left things…”

He felt Varlen shift against him,but he made no attempt to extract himself from the embrace, settling to mumbleagainst Dorian’s shoulder. “It was bad, wasn’t it?” Dorian just nodded, andVarlen continued. “I won’t lie. A part of me wanted to wash my hands of you. Itseemed… for the best, in a way. I didn’t want to admit it at the time, but youwere right. Coming to Tevinter and standing at your side… it would have been too dangerous. There is just noway we could… be us here.”

A thought suddenly occurred toDorian that saw cold flood his skin. “Varlen, I need to make something clearthat I may have neglected. It is true, we can never be what we were inFerelden here, but it is not because I do not want it.” He tightened his grip instinctively. “Maker’s breath, even back then, against my better judgement, Iwanted it more than anything. But… the thought that you would come here becauseof me, and place yourself at risk…” Dorian felt his throat constrict but attemptedto talk through it. “If somethinghappened to you…”

“Stop. Dorian...��� Varlen’s words were firm, but his touch remained gentle. Hepulled back, taking Dorian in, and it was only the expression of concernthat flashed across his face that made Dorian aware of the fact that he was,indeed, crying. Perhaps it was his exhaustion or his worry for Adiran, or hisdiscovery of Varlen struggling in the heart of the one place he had tried tospare him from. Perhaps it was a culmination of all the day’s miserable, bloodyevents. But regardless of the reason, silent tears had crept past Dorian’scareful guard, and he regretted them immediately. Ashamed of himself, Dorianmade to wipe them away in a harsh motion, but Varlen beat him to it. And hishands were gentle. His gloves soft. Without dismissal, he brushed away the first sign that,finally, Dorian had reached a limit he was not prepared to handle.

At least, not alone.  

“You shouldn’t be here,” Dorianbreathed, his voice only shaking ever so slightly. It was the most composedanyone could be while crying their eyes out, he liked to imagine. It helpedlessen the sting a touch. “Amatus, this is too dangerous. I won’t beresponsible for dragging you into it. I can’t.”

“Well that’s fine. Because youaren’t.” The words were so simple, and Varlen spoke them with such convictionthat it actually gave Dorian pause. A faint smile managed to find its way toVarlen’s lips and he held Dorian’s face in his hands, keeping their gazeslocked. “We broke up, Dorian. There was, as you said, no obligation for me tocome here.”

“You came anyway,” Dorianmurmured. Varlen nodded.

“I came anyway.”

“After everything I said to you.Everything I…”

“Yeah, well…” Varlen gave a faintshrug. It was meant to appear dismissive, but deep down, Dorian could onlyimagine how many months it must have taken for him to perfect it. “Turns out itwas going to take more than a bad fight to keep me away. Whether we’re togetheror not, Dorian, I care about you.You’re my friend as much as you were… more than that.” He swallowed, taking asecond to collect himself. “The fact of the matter is, I believe in what you’retrying to do. Fenedhis, I want you to succeed. I know I can’t helpout in the open, so I figured I would do it my way, and it was actuallyworking.”

“Until today.”

“Until today,” Varlen agreedquietly. He let go of Dorian, the tears having ceased as they spoke, and took asingle step back. Not too far, but far enough. “I… messed up, today. I was tooslow. I didn’t pay enough attention to the obvious threat, and it…” Varlen bithis lip, glancing towards the door. “Creators… he’s so young, Dorian. Just a kid.”

“I know.” Dorian’s voice washusky, and there was no helping it. He could still see Adiran’s shocked expression;that vacant stare at the roof of the carriage; and it pained him in a way thathe simply could not describe. “But it was not your fault, Varlen. Do not blameyourself. What you have been doing… it is already more than I deserve.”

“No, it isn’t.” Varlen steppedforward again, resting one hand on Dorian’s shoulder, squeezing intently.“Dorian, this would be a lot easier for both of us if you would just let mehelp you. It’s hard enough hiding from the rest of Tevinter without having to dodge you too.”

To Dorian’s surprise, a dry laughmanaged to escape him. “You say it as though you will continue regardless of myanswer.”

“Funny. That’s probably because Iwill.”

“You remain stubborn as ever.”

“Did you expect that to change?”

Varlen smiled, and Dorian evenmanaged a weak one back, not sure what precisely was happening between thembut grateful for it nonetheless. But something remained unspoken;something Dorian could not simply ignore. “Varlen… if you are to remain…”

“It’s like you said,” Varlensaid, cutting him off quickly. “We can’t be what we were in Ferelden. I get that. If we’reseen publicly together… well, let’s just say it wouldn’t help you start thismovement of yours.”

“Not when the people I amattempting to move possess moreprejudice than sense,” Dorian agreed reluctantly. “No, of course. You areright. We couldn’t.”

There was a pause. A long one. “Imean… did you actually…?” The words left Varlen so awkwardly that it remindedDorian of when they had first met. A pocket of warmth filled his chest as theelven man continued hurriedly. “I mean, yeah. No way. It couldn’t work…. right?”

“No. Not at all.”

The pause returned. Then Varlensaid something that caught Dorian completely off-guard.

“You called me amatus.”

Dorian blinked. “What? When?”

“Before. When you were… y’know…” He gestured to his face. “Crying.”

“Well now that’s hardly fair, tojudge a man when he is so clearly outof—”

—“Did you mean it?”

Dorian stopped. His mouth hungslightly open, as though in the process of giving voice to defensive words, butno sound passed his lips. Had he meantit? Thinking back, he did not even recall it, but he had no reasonwhatsoever to believe Varlen was lying. In the end, that meant only one thing.

“Yes.”

He had said that word; a word thatcarried so much weight. A word he had not been able to utter since they parted.A word he had dreaded and sampled and discarded more times than he could count.If he had truly said it, after all this time, and without even realising… then yes.He meant it more than anything.

His response seemed to stirsomething in Varlen because he sniffed suddenly, blue eyes flicking away asthough the far wall suddenly offered something incredibly interesting. “I…” Helet out a watery laugh. “I really fucking missed that, you know? The way you’d say it.”

Dorian didn’t bother holding backthis time. He just reached out, turned Varlen towards him, and kissed him. Theirlips pressed together, warm and soft and everything he remembered; Maker,everything he had wanted for so long.There was no stiffening of surprise from Varlen. Not even a hitching of breathas Dorian’s tongue swiped along the inner curve of his lips, tentativelyseeking more. If anything, he had been more ready for the moment than Dorianhimself, who had initiated it. Varlen opened his mouth, inviting Dorian in, onehand threading through his hair, the other sliding past up his armand coming to rest on his shoulder, holding him in place. Holding him close. Dorian turned them both, moving afew mindless steps until Varlen was against the table, their lips still locked,hands roaming one another as though feeling their shapes for the first time.And in a way, there was a newness of it. The newness of a fire rekindled.

Dorian broke the kiss for amoment, rasping a breath, neither drawing away not pushing for more. “Amatus…” he breathed, shaking his head,not quite believing what was happening. Not quite believing how badly he hadneeded it, all this time. A low chuckled curled from Varlen’s chest, meetingthe fond curve of his lips.

“There it is…” Varlen’s eyes wereclosed, almost peaceful, his head cocked slightly to the side as thoughlistening to beautiful music somewhere in the distance. Then, slowly, his eyesfluttered open to catch Dorian’s. Dorian’s expression was, understandably, confused, but Varlen justsmiled, his thumb brushing along the curve of Dorian’s cheek.

“How you said it. That was it.”Understanding flickered in Dorian’s eyes and Varlen leaned in, stealing aquick, chaste kiss, smiling against his lips. “It was just like that.”