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neshabeingchildish · 5 years

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T'is Now the Very Witching Time of Night

Nobody asked for this, but here goes, anyway. TW for mentions of blood and death. @chenoahchantel @adorkable-blackgirl @henryhearts @henry-p-fart @up-the-tube @ciara-knightly @cactus-con @chenryontop @riebellion @kiddangers @oof--musicals @rorythevambire (I know I don’t normally tag you, but hell, Happy Halloween Lil’ Suga)

"'Tis now the very witching time of night, when churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out contagion to this world."

- William Shakespeare, Hamlet

She sensed them, but she wasn’t yet sure where they were making their entrance. There was a lot of evil in Swellview… Not like Derry, but there was enough, that each Halloween season, she had another battle. Oftentimes, she just barely won. At least once, she lost. That was the Year of the Werewolves. And now, Swellview was teeming with them. Werewolves. She didn’t mind werewolves so much, most of the time. Most of them were nice people who just wanted to function… But, Nature had spoken. The full moon made them someone else and when they were, not only were humans in danger, but witches were generally blamed and targeted for the inexplicable nature of those werewolf crimes. But this… This was much worse than the Year of the Werewolves.

Swellview had a few vampire families, more than its fair share of werewolf clans and now… demons threatened to slip through the veil. She sensed that a dark witch had summoned them, but she was unsure if that was accurate, or her mind trying to rectify the fact that she could feel an impending demonic presence rushing towards her town.

She’d passed several types, all night, as was usually the case. But, the number of ghouls was alarming… and she expected that they were drawn to the presence, too… They knew that they may soon have dead bodies to feed on. This better not bring in a new awakening of zombies! She thought. Because demons taking over people, some dying as a result, ghouls feeding on them… when the veil is open, during the witching hour on Samhain? That could lead to freakin’ zombies, and she didn’t want to be stuck on necromancer duties tonight! She turned suddenly towards two boys, walking behind her and lifted a hand, prepared to defend herself.

The werewolf was most likely harmless. Witches and werewolves rarely warred. But, the vampire… he was still quite young, probably quite hungry, because she hadn’t seen any reports of changed ones or gotten any wind of robbed blood banks, missing persons, or increase of sanguinated animals. He was in a Kid Danger outfit… He looked just the frick like Kid Danger. He pushed the werewolf behind him and held out a hand towards Charlotte, the witch. “Hey… No need for a fight tonight. It’s our time to just relax. You should try it,” he said.

She frowned and didn’t lower her hand, “What are a vampire and a werewolf doing fraternizing? You’re young. Your brood should know better to let you roam freely tonight, especially with this in the air,” she pointed towards the sky with her free hand. “Are you TRYING to give the demons additional dark energy to saturate this place with their evil?”

“What?” he said and folded his arms, “There’s no such things as demons. That’s just a word that humans use when they can’t identify children of the night or undead entities.”

She sighed and shook her head, “Get back to your den, and you too, especially. Don’t you know that there will be a full moon tonight? Am I the only freakin’ knowledgeable mystic that cares about the laws of nature and the dangers of interrupting them?”

“Uh, YEAH! You’re the only servant of nature in town and you think that you’re better than us because of it.”

“Why are you talking like you know me?” She wondered.

“Ummm, I’m not. I’m just presuming, because you’re a witch and every vampire knows that witches believe us to be an abomination…” She made a clenching gesture and removed his mask. He clicked his teeth. “Well… You knew that I was a vampire, anyway,” Henry Hart said.

“Yeah, I did,” she finally lowered her hand. Henry Hart was harmless. Well… Not harmless. All vampires were dangerous, because their “nature” was to feed on humans. They called themselves Children of the Night. The witches called them Children of Hell. Their creation was not of this world, but in a dark place, of those that nature created and those that Lilith created. They were basically demons in human form, and she almost couldn’t believe that Henry didn’t know that his kind hailed from demons, but… he wasn’t that smart. She left he and Jasper to whatever crap they would get into tonight and continued on her path, but they continued too. “Stop following me.”

Jasper offered, “We were heading this way already!” He caught up with her and wondered, “Do… You need help with the demons?”

“Jasper, you’re no match for any type of demon, even at your strongest, much less a legion of them.”

“Well, you know that Henry is Kid Danger, so maybe we can help that way!”

“Jasp… Dude!”

“What, she just ripped your mask off. She knows that it’s you!”

“She ripped off my mask ON HALLOWEEN!” Henry said.

Charlotte waved a hand and said, “Have your couples quarrel elsewhere, please?” She held out her arm and an owl flew in from the sky and perched itself on it. Charlotte removed a satchel from the bird and looked inside of it. She sighed, communicating with it and then said to the boys, “On second thought, you’d better come with me.” She shook her arm one good time and the owl flew away again. “I may need your help, after all.”

“What can we do?” Jasper had asked.

While Henry wondered, “Why should we help you?”

“Because… I just figured out something. Captain Man must be a vampire. He’s indestructible. He’s not a witch, or I would have sensed him here, and he has a vampire sidekick who only recently changed… like this year, I’m guessing?”

“Vampires have a whole lot more going for them than being indestructible!” Henry defended.

“They do… But, being either a daywalker or having some type of powerful protection against the sun, he’d still have to keep up pretenses. An irresponsible science accident is a pretty good cover, because he could always blame any vampire characteristics on side effects, should they ever show up. But, he’d hide most of them - superspeed, shapeshifting - if he’s old enough or skilled enough to pull that off, flight, if that’s still a vampire feature… He’d keep the rest of us as in the dark as possible. Now that I’m convinced, all I would have to do is get within eyesight of him and she clenched her fist and Henry toppled over, holding himself.

“Henry? Henry??? Charlotte! Whatever you’re doing, stop it!”

She stopped hurting Henry, but kept walking and said, “And now that I know that Captain Man is a vampire, you’re gonna want me to keep that to myself, right? I just need a favor, and it kinda keeps a demon army from storming Swellview!”

Henry found his footing again and muttered, “All you had to do was ask!” Jasper cupped his face, checking to see that he was okay. He had a little blood coming from his eyes, which he wiped away.

“This is what I need from the two of you… I need the power of three, each an equal portion, thee - the blood of one who is cursed by the sun, next and soon, the blood of one cursed of the full moon. Finally, from the last creature, one who is blessed by Mother Nature.”

“You want our blood???” Henry and Jasper both asked, incredulously.

She looked desperately at them and practically whimpered, “I need it.” She looked at the ground, “Look, I know that I’m not a nice girl. I’m not friendly and I can be judgmental and harsh… But… while Captain Man and Kid Danger have pledged to punch a few stupid humans in the face, I’m the one that has to ward off evil, at least once a year, but definitely usually more frequently. My failures result in things like… Jasper being bitten when he was left in the woods by his parents on the night of a full moon. I couldn’t stop the werewolf increase… But, I can stop THIS; Just… not without your help…”

Henry wasn’t used to Charlotte asking for anything. She was a genius and a magician, what she couldn’t find a scientific solution to, she usually used magic. This was new, and he felt soft for her and her plight.

“Wait… I’m a werewolf because of you?” Jasper asked.

“You’re a werewolf because she didn’t have help trying to stop the werewolves… but, she’s got us for this, at least.” Henry held out his arm and said, “I don’t really know how this works…” She opened her satchel and removed a small goblet, which she held forward and her owl returned and scratched Henry’s forearm. He hissed and Charlotte collected the blood. Jasper looked nervous, but held his arm out too. He was the one who volunteered to help Charlotte in the first place and Henry was right, if they could help, they needed to. The owl circled around and came back for Jasper’s blood next. Then, Charlotte raised her own arm and simply opened a slash and levitated the blood into the cup. With the mixture, she covered the goblet, put it in her satchel and summoned her broom. “Follow me,” she said. Jasper transformed and chased after her while Henry speedily ran, right on her trail as she glistened in the moonlight, her curls blowing in the wind. She stopped and handed her broom off to the owl, which transformed into a girl that looked a lot like Henry’s dead sister. “Piper?” He whispered.

“This is simply a form,” the girl said.

“Shhh. Leave my familiar alone,” Charlotte said, and began to take things out of her satchel.

Jasper caught up, turned back into himself and caught his breath. “Werewolves really didn’t get a good deal on speed,” he complained. They witnessed the ground shattering open and Charlotte began to chant something as Henry and Jasper held on to each other. She sprinkled something, drew on the ground, and uncovered the goblet to pour into the crack in the Earth while others were running away, terrified. She backed away and joined hands with Jasper and Henry, “Take this offering of those who would stand against each other, and those who would stand against you, should you attempt to enter this plane…”

“I’m sorry, what? That’s an offering?” Henry asked.

“Shhh,” she said. “Power of three. It is a huge offering. Werewolves, vampires and witches don’t stand together and against demons, that is a very bold statement. They could try to call my bluff, but that seal would be our first line of defense, if they do. But, I’m hoping that our unity scares them off…” And… it did. There were the wails of demons who apparently were not allowed to cross the barrier and soon, the ground closed. Charlotte released the guys’ hands and dusted hers off. “Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said and grabbed her broom.

“Wait… That’s it? What, we go back to being enemies or I don’t know… opponents or whatever? We just saved Swellview together. You don’t wanna celebrate?” Henry wondered.

“We don’t have much time. Jasper’s gonna be changing in like… half an hour,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah… But… I thought maybe the science geek in you would wanna see the Man Cave?” She did wonder about some of their gadgets. She looked into her familiar’s eyes and the girl transformed into an owl and took the broom away.

“Yeah… Okay. That sounds cool. But, what about Jasper?”

“I’ll introduce you to Schwoz. He’s made a pretty cool serum that helps Jasper not to transform from the full moon.”

“A magic serum?”

“Nope. Strictly science!”

“Wow! I DO have to meet that guy!”

“Legend has it that he comes from the family of Dr. Frankenstein!”

“WHAT? Can he make a whole man… out of like spare parts and stuff?” She asked, excitedly.

“Yeah! One so impressive… you thought he might be a vampire!” Henry said. She gasped long and hard and within moments, they were going into Junk N’ Stuff, a place she’d passed numerous times and not sensed a single thing… and as she glanced up at the full moon and heard howling in the distance, she knew that she didn’t have the strength for any more fight tonight, but maybe in the future… she had allies.

#henry danger #hd AU fic #Nesha HD Fics #T'is Now the Very Witching Time of Night #Happy Halloween #Halloween #Nesha Oneshots #oneshot #holidays and special occasions

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thewardensjournal · 6 years

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The Warden is laughing at her, and Morrigan stands, arms crossed and waiting impatiently for her to stop. Melisende wipes tears from the corners of her eyes and looks at Morrigan, still grinning with her mirth.

“Thanks, Morrigan, I really needed that,” she says earnestly. “Were you waiting here just to tell me a joke, though?”

“T’was not in jest,” Morrigan says through gritted teeth.

Melisende stares at her, grin morphing into a tight-lipped look of disapproval. “I know you and Alistair don't get on, but this is a bit much just to get one over on him. He might die tomorrow, it's not in good taste.”

“I told you,” Morrigan snaps, throwing her hands up and turning away from Melisende. “This way, neither of you have to die.”

“I'm not going to make Alistair fuck you so that you can take up a pet project of raising an Old God,” Melisende says firmly, striding towards the bed and ridding herself of her leather armour.

Morrigan turns back to glare at her, but the effect is lost as Melisende isn't looking at her. “Finally found some morals, did you?” She asks, tone cold. “Did the old woman force them on you? Or, if you're truly insistent on protecting Alistair after what he said to you, Loghain would also be serviceable.” She can see Melisende’s face reflected in a polished shield above the bed, her expression locked in a scowl, like it always is when someone questions her for too long.

“I told you: no. I won't force that on Alistair, he doesn't need that kind of baggage when he's about to become king. And you can't use Loghain either.” Now, Melisende does turn, jabbing a finger at Morrigan. “I'm a Grey Warden. My duty is to rid the world of Archdemons, not create more.”

“T'is not an Archdemon-"

“But it could become one,” Melisende interrupts.

Morrigan can't argue that, she crosses her arms again and resists the urge to stamp her foot at how unreasonable Melisende is being.

“Besides.” Melisende pulls a clean shirt over her head and glances over her shoulder at Morrigan, who makes a point of fixing her eyes anywhere else. “I have an idea for dealing with the Archdemon.”

Sometimes, it's easy to forget how sharp Melisende is, how she could control a court before she could wield her twin blades. Too late, Morrigan realises she's shown her cards too soon. She had wondered, briefly, at how Melisende remained silent as she made her case for her ritual, how she pushed only for information about the Archdemon, how Morrigan, like a fool, had revealed so much because she thought she had her.

You always assume you know best, foolish child. Flemeth’s voice gave the unwelcome reminder whilst Melisende watched her patiently.

“What is your plan?” Morrigan asks, sighing heavily, then holds up a hand as Melisende begins to answer. “Save your tongue.” She pushes past her to the door. “Pray to your precious Maker that yours does not kill all the people t'was meant to save.”

At that, Morrigan makes to leave, but Melisende moves fast and silent and catches her elbow. Their eyes lock, and Morrigan recalls the first time they met, the Warden recruit making reckless jokes about Witches of the Wilds, and their second meeting, Melisende struggling from unconsciousness, meeting Morrigan’s eyes to thank her with startling sincerity. She clears her throat and glances away, hoping to show a cold fury, but Melisende doesn't look away.

“I want you at my side tomorrow,” she says.

Morrigan doesn't- can't, reply, but she gives a stiff nod and Melisende smiles like she knew she'd get her way. She wonders, as she runs from Redcliffe, what Melisende made of the sound of claws on flagstones outside her door. Whether she thought Taranis had left Leliana's side to come find her, whether she thought it was a cat chasing mice. Morrigan wonders how long it took Melisende to realise they would never be sisters in arms again.

Melisende had spent the night with Leliana, and, though she wants to, Morrigan can't really fault her for it. But, there is a sight that surprises her. She passes by the door to their shared room, open as though they had also been ready to leave. Both are armoured, she sees, weapons at their sides, but they are arguing. Melisende pushes a familiar shield and longsword at Leliana, who refuses to take them.

Morrigan had thought Melisende had secreted her Cousland weapons, that she had clutched so desperately when waking in Flemeth's hut, with the Drydens at Soldier’s Peak. It seems she was mistaken.

With a choked sob, Leliana accepts the shield, places it carefully on the bed, and straps the sword to her back, despite how it must fit awkwardly next to her longbow.

Melisende steps forward and clasps her hands, whispering something Morrigan can't- won't hear.

She runs away, leaves for good.

It surprises her, at first, the group Melisende chooses to fight the Archdemon with her, when she hears the tale retold. She picks her court carefully. Loghain, Shale, and her hound, Taranis. She leaves Sten to lead the army holding the gates.

(It shouldn't surprise Morrigan that she took the dog with her, she insisted on bringing him to the Landsmeet, too.)

It is cruel of her, though. Shale is Melisende's favourite, it's clear to see. Shale rumbles something dry and bored and Melisende throws her head back and laughs until tears show in the corners of her eyes. Of course, Shale can't smile, but there is a fondness always in their voice for Melisende. It is cruel that she would make them watch.

Cruel, too, to leave Sten behind. Sten, who must understand duty better than any of them. Sten, who rivals maybe Morrigan herself in terms of being cold and standoffish and in sheer reluctance to be with the group. Sten, who Melisende tracked down a sword for in between rallying a nation, play-acting at not knowing the significance such weapons can hold.

Morrigan thinks again of the Cousland sword, glinting on Leliana's back, and wonders what Sten thought when he saw it. Wonders if he understood Melisende's plan.

It's cruel to leave him, when she made him care against his will.

As for Morrigan. She knows cruelty, was raised on it, but it steals her breath away that Melisende can be cruel uncompromisingly.

(She thinks of werewolves and elves in the Brecilian Forest and Melisende damning a group of suffering, hurting beings simply because she understood Zathrian's pain so well, and thinks perhaps she shouldn't be surprised. After all, she didn't care then.)

(But then, Melisende had turned and talked Zathrian into letting her kill him, too. Morrigan had wondered whether that was a Cousland form of justice, or Melisende's own special brand.)

Melisende can be cruel, but she is saving the world, and Morrigan can't be too angry.

She leaves the soft ones behind, the ones who feel too much so that it overwhelms them. The moral ones, the ones she brought with her in a quest for the Urn of Sacred Ashes, just to keep her from doing something radical.

Morrigan is still half surprised that the old woman isn't taken. Then again, their foolish Warden clearly doesn't believe she'll need a healer, because there was no way her plan could have fault. Besides, Morrigan always suspected that Melisende found Wynne's incessant advice more irritating than comforting.

“You are bringing your hound,” Sten says. From anyone else it would be a question, from him it is an inquiry if Melisende wishes it to be.

“Yes,” Melisende replies, spitting blood from her mouth, and from the look on her face she isn't sure if it's hers.

Zevran joins them, the wave of darkspawn finished for now. “That's very Fereldan of you,” he observes, grin quick.

“The bards can write it in as an afterthought,” Melisende says, grinning herself. “The Grey Warden slays the Archdemon whilst her faithful mabari chases its tail.”

“He is a fearsome warrior,” Sten disagrees, and Taranis barks and jumps up to lick his gauntleted hand.

“Then he'll make up for Loghain,” Melisende says, eliciting a snort from Shale, and the group glances to where Loghain stands to the side. “More importantly, we need to move now. The five of you stay here and hold the gates.”

And that's that. Melisende turns to the group and doesn't quite smile, but a smirk tugs on her lips. “Remember, the only reward we get for winning today is our lives.”

At least, that's how Morrigan imagines it might have gone.

According to the bards, the battle drags on, they remain standing, though on shaky legs. Then, like a thunder clap from a storm long overdue, Melisende acts.

The warning signs, like gathering storm clouds and enclosing humidity, are clear to Morrigan only after the fact. Shale hurls a particularly well-aimed boulder and catches the Archdemon in the eye. Its head swings around to glower at the golem, and when it does, distracted, Loghain plunges his sword into its foot. There's a whistle, and Taranis plows forward, scattering darkspawn and clearing a path.

She had been attacking from behind, letting Loghain and Shale and those who fought under her command take the blows whilst she waited for the smart moment to make a move. Morrigan imagines her leaping the Archdemon's tail as it thrashes erratically. Next moment, she's running up the Archdemon’s back, arms spread wide for balance.

The Archdemon lurches, trying to shake her off, but in the form of Melisende, lightning strikes.

Somehow, she kept her footing on the Archdemon. Her pace quickens to a sprint, she pushes off her back leg and launches herself in an arc towards the Archdemon’s head. Both blades raised, trailing blood in the smoky sky. She lands, uses her momentum to drive the blades into the eye sockets of the Archdemon.

The battle rages around them. No one stops, no one stares, whilst the world fights, the companions watch.

Melisende trembles, wobbles, atop the Archemon, hands still wrapped around her blades. The leviathan rears up, a howling, screeching, keening roar torn from its mouth. As the Archdemon shudders and collapses, the story goes that Melisende hopped neatly away, landing to face Loghain. An exchange of words that even the bards can't repeat, an expectation and agreement understood and Melisende steps back as Loghain snatches King Maric's sword and settles Maric's shield on his arm; both gifts from the Warden for reasons the bards can only speculate on.

The dust and debris that hangs in the air from the shockwave of the Archdemon’s fall is blinding. For all his bulk in his armour, Loghain looks like a shadow as he drags the sword through the Archdemon's throat, stabs up into its heart.

A blinding light, the bards say the Empress in Orlais and the magisters in Tevinter could see it. Amidst the shrieks of darkspawn and the cheers of armies, the shroud of light falls and reveals the bodies of the Archdemon and Loghain, battle done and day won.

At this part, the bards begin to celebrate the Hero of Ferelden's triumph, but Morrigan imagines what happened next.

Melisende would have gathered Loghain's arms, once Maric's, carrying them along with her own. Shale would have picked up his body with a nod from Melisende. Taranis would have bounced around his mistress, she, out of habit, would have checked him for scrapes and wounds and, satisfied, would have gestured for them to follow her. A cursory check on Eamon, Irving and Ardol, her other allies, and then the long trek back to the gates. Perhaps she caught sight of Teagan on the way, perhaps she searched for her brother out of some fractional hope still alive in her chest.

She would have been overjoyed to find her companions at the gates alive and well. Would have hugged Zevran, kissed Leliana. Wrapped an arm around Oghren, maybe grinned at Wynne. She and Sten would have nodded at each other from a slight distance, then she would have grinned and mocked a salute at him, at which point he would have turned his attention to Taranis.

But she would have asked after the King and Queen, still Alistair and Anora then. She would have had to make sure her plan had worked, that all pieces were in play and in their places. However furious Alistair was with her, however conniving Anora might seem, Morrigan thinks Melisende would have cared out of pragmatism if nothing else.

The bards love the next part, the listing of the Hero's achievements. The new King given to Orzammar, safety for the Dalish, a strong leader for Denerim's alienage, Andraste's ashes rediscovered, Grey Wardens restored and a King and Queen to herald a new era for Ferelden.

Morrigan thinks only of the girl she knew. Facing Flemeth and winning simply because Morrigan asked it of her. Winning a life for each of her companions because she was so determined to win the Blight that she forced them all to plan for the times after. She thinks of a girl with her family killed in front of her who made revenge her mission and was not satisfied until she took everything and more from the man responsible.

(Months later, Morrigan hears that Melisende took the young Nathaniel Howe and raised him to the status of Grey Warden to redeem his family's name, to the bemusement of everyone around her, and thinks that fits.)

She thinks of the girl who sent a dwarf to the Circle simply to learn, who returned an acorn to a talking tree, and who robbed the nobility for all they were worth simply because she could.

This is where the bards get bored and gossip takes over.

It's told that Melisende didn't linger in Denerim. She left Alistair to settle in after the celebrations ceased, the two of them resolved to remain friends. She saw Oghren off on the way to Lake Calenhad to find Felsi again, and was at the docks a day later with Sten, Zevran, Shale, Wynne, and, of course, Leliana. Melisende convinced Shale and Wynne, because no one could refuse her, to take the long way round to Tevinter by sea, stopping off at Par Vollen on the way.

One less, the group continued to Tevinter until they were down to three. Morrigan wonders if Melisende enjoyed the relative anonymity, both of not being called “Hero” or “Cousland”. There was a brief foray into Orlais, Morrigan assumes it was Leliana's idea, until it seems some semblance of duty drew Melisende back to the east. That was where Zevran left them, perhaps returning to Antiva, or maybe striking out for new lands altogether.

They stayed in Highever for a few months, Melisende rebuilding and showing Leliana the remains of her home, or so Morrigan assumes. Perhaps they ate dinner with Fergus every night, perhaps Leliana sat back and read whilst Melisende and Fergus bickered and caught up, or maybe they sat silent as Leliana wove yarns for them to listen to late into the evening.

Six months, all told, of Melisende being something other than a Grey Warden. Perhaps she found relief in being called to duty as Warden-Commander at Vigil's Keep, or was she reluctant to leave her rediscovered domesticity and home? That was where Leliana left, recalled by the Chantry with promises that she wouldn't be long, but both of them had their roles to play.

With that, the gossip ends and the reports begin. Reports on the Wardens at Vigil's Keep, reports on the new Warden-Commander settling into her role.

In the end, what Morrigan remembers is a young noblewoman and her mabari hound, trudging through Ferelden with a transient, ragtag group. Time brings all things around, and that is what Melisende remains.

#cousland warden #dao #leliana #warden/leliana #alistair theirin #wynne #shale #sten #morrigan #oghren #zevran #my writing #the whole gangs here laddies and genitals #melisende cousland

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