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screamingatanemptyroom · 3 years

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Song of a Mermaid Warrior pt 2

Part 2 to the mermaid story!

Decided to continue it, wanted to see where Jordan's story ends up.

You can read pt 1 here.

Enjoy!

___________________________

“Well, well, well! Never thought I’d see the mermaid herself swimming over to my fetid swamp here in the slums!”

A slim young man with bright purple hair grinned, flipping a silver coin into the air over and over without looking at it. “Thought you said you were never coming back? What, did your last book not sell as well now that you're peddling comforting little lies about your species?”

Jordan leaned against the doorframe of the dilapidated shop, wondering for the thousandth time if this was a bad idea. She knew the answer, deep down, but chose to ignore it. “Tock, cut the crap.”

“Oh sweetie, you haven’t changed. “ Tock laughed. “ I can cut the crap, but not sure what use it would be… crap is notoriously difficult to cut, tends to mush up, you know… and whose crap should be cut? Mine?” He shrugged. “ Sorry to say this body doesn’t make physical waste. What about yours?”

Jordan rubbed her forehead. “I should have known better than to do anything other than speak as literally as possible… I hate fairies.”

“You only know one fairy, darling.” Tock’s eyes blinked, the irises turning green, than orange, than staying at a robin’s egg blue. “Unfair of you to judge the whole species just because you don’t like me. Especially because I have been nothing but fair and helpful to you.”

“You tried to trick me into giving you my skin.”

“TRIED. Tried is the key word there. Plus you didn’t fall for it, so what’s the problem?”

Jordan sighed, knowing that there was never any point with arguing with Tock.

She had run into the fairy over two years ago. At that time she was frantic, trying to find Hunter’s location, and her desperation had led her to the darker corners of the city. She had spent every last coin she had, unable to eat or sleep, and at her darkest moment, she stumbled into Tock’s shop. Later Jordan had realized that it was likely that despair that had allowed her to find his place. There were magic wards to keep all but the most vulnerable out.

When they met, Tock had seen her madness, her obsession, and was ecstatic. He tried to get her to agree to many terrible deals in exchange for tracking down Hunter and after adding a small addendum she had agreed, feeling that whatever price she had to pay was worth it.

In the end, the addendum she had insisted on saved her skin, quite literally. She had added on a time limit that he had to track Hunter down and arrange a meeting. And to Tock’s shock and dismay, whatever elven magic was hiding Hunter’s identity; it was beyond the fairy’s ability to dismantle.

Tock had failed to find Hunter, and the contract expired. Jordan left, at the time feeling a strange mix of disappointment at the failure and gratitude to be still in one piece. As they parted ways, she swore never to come back to his broken place of deals with the devil.

Until today.

“So what brings you here, my lovely little fish?” Tock flipped his coin again, and it sizzled as it disappeared into thin air. “Still trying to find that stubborn elf boyfriend of yours?”

“He was just a friend, and no. I gave up on him years ago.”

Tock frowned, blinking as his eyes turned a bronze color. “Pity. Your skin has only gotten prettier since the last time I saw it… would love to find your price to part with it.”

“…” The memory of Hunter cheerfully making plans to run away with her still hung in her mind. What was it that he had said? “We might lose our clothes and money, but at least we’d have a fun story to tell”? We had no idea what real fairies were like. The ocean’s song in Jordan’s ears was rising, she kept her lips closed to hold back the seductive call of the magic. The fairy noticed her struggle, backing away slightly.

“Fine, fine, no more talk about your skin. Why are you mermaids so sensitive about losing organs?” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Mermaids regenerate, right? Or was that trolls?”

“Tock….” The name was forced out between clenched teeth.

The fairy rolled his eyes, changing them to a pure silver color. “So what deal DO you want to make today, my angry mermaid friend?”

She dug through her pocket handing over a silver badge with a handkerchief. Her touch shouldn’t affect his abilities, but Jordan still didn’t want to touch it. It represented something she had tried to move beyond in the last few years, a part of the past that caused her to wake up sobbing some nights, and to stay up drinking others.

Hunter had been her only friend, the only person in this world she thought she could trust. She had learned the hard way how foolish that trust had been. But once she had finally made peace with that fact, he had sent someone to intrude in her life once more. After forcing her to stay out of his battle, he was inviting her to join him, dangling the one thing he knew she couldn’t resist to get her to agree: the existence of other full blood mermaids.

She wasn’t going to play by his rules. If he was expecting her to run back to his side after forcing her away years ago, he would be sorely disappointed. And if she was going to use the clue he had given her, it was for her reasons and no one else’s. Because for everything he had gotten wrong, Hunter had gotten one thing very right:

She did want to find the mermaids in the city.

Not out of any sense of loyalty or need to find others like her, however. She was simply desperate. The instincts to fight and kill, to use her magic to trap and destroy, grew stronger by the day. Soon she was afraid she’d start killing innocent people. She needed to find a way to control it.

Jordan was hoping that other mermaids would know how.

Maybe other mermaids don’t have this problem. She thought at her darkest moments. Maybe I’m just a killer, a monster.

She tried not to think about that to often.

Tock gingerly picked up the badge, his eyes widening with surprise and turning a glowing violet.

“You always have the best things! Let’s see… silver… It was made several years ago… it had other forms years ago… but the owners of those items died quite violently…” He paused, glancing at her curiously. “Your handiwork, I would guess?”

“No comment.”

“Such an unfriendly fish… good thing you have such pretty skin, otherwise I wouldn’t pay you any attention.” He turned back towards the badge in his hand. “It was made with care and love… quite a pure emotion of care… along with a large amount of hope, all mixed in with the silver as it was reformed… it was part of a set?”

“Yes.” She swallowed uncomfortably, pushing back the memories of a young naïve girl, who thought herself hardened and bitter, carefully making a birthday present for her best friend.

“Can I see the other one?”

She thought of the location of the badge she had once treasured. “No.”

Tock pouted. “Fine. It contains quite a few auras, but the strongest one… is quite familiar.” His eyes turned a bright angry red. “Elf!”

“Yeah, it was Hunter’s.”

“That BASTARD! His blasted elf magic forced me to lose my contract with you!” He tossed the badge to the counter with a disgusted grimace. “You’ll never be that perfect combination of desperate and vulnerable again!” He looked back at me. “You are STILL trying to find that elf who dumped you three years ago? And I thought you had standards.”

The ocean song roared in her ears as it sensed her anger, pushing at her control, leaking from her lips. She could feel it swelling beneath her skin, threatening to force itself out. Tock rolled his eyes at the sight.

“Don’t try your battle magic here. You may be quite terrifying to meet in a dark alleyway, but I have some great wards in place.” He sneered as she kept her lips closed tightly. “Just a word of advice: Don’t face off a fairy in his own home.”

Jordan forced her magic down with great struggle, every instinct wanting to lash out. “I don’t want you to find Hunter. I want to know most frequent locations this amulet has been over the past six months.”

“And that’s not the same thing because…”

“Because it’s not him I’m wanting to find.” If he's found mermaids, then the locations he's been, the people he's spoken to... they'll be clues to track them down.

Tock raised an eyebrow. “Then what ARE you trying to find?”

“None of your business. I just need the locations this object has been most frequently.”

“Very well.” His smile became sly, his eyes shifting away from the angry red to a dark blue. “What deal shall we make for me to do this? How about your skin…”

The last word trailed off as Jordan held up a golden coin.

“…”

_________________________________

The silence in the room stretched on, as Tock’s gaze was locked on the object in her hand. His eye color was shifting rapidly, brown, grey, orange, green, before the whole eye filled with color finally turning a solid, glowing silver. His shoulders twitched, and his teeth grew longer in his mouth, the sharp points pressing into his still human appearing lips.

“Where did you get that?” His whisper had lost all of his previous joking tone. There was a small amount of magic woven into his words, a minor compelling spell to force her to speak, and speak truthfully. It buried itself in her ear, making her thoughts foggy. Jordan smiled, shaking her head as the ocean song within her rose in volume, drowning out the fairy magic easily, keeping her mind clear.

“I’ve picked up a lot of things these past few years.”

“ANSWER. THE. QUESTION.”

“No.” Jordan flipped the coin, mimicking the fairy’s earlier actions. “Don’t try your magic on me, fairy. I’ve had too many years of practice ignoring magical compulsions.”

“Fine.” He sighed loudly. “Do you know what it is you have there? Do you know if there’s any more?”

“I’ve heard stories… tales only whispered in dark alleys and in crumbling basements. Do you know in schools here they teach that the humans are the only ones affected by the Darkness? That losing the ability to have children was the be all and end all of the curse?”

“…” Tock kept silent, staring at her. Shrugging, she continued with a mocking smile.

“What a limited view, right? Turns out that everyone lost something to the Darkness. Every single one. It took whatever that species valued most. For humans, such a short-lived, social people, it was taking away the ability to make new generations. But fairies… you are born of magic and air, part of nature and outside of time. Procreation means nothing to you.” She flipped the coin up, letting it spin in the air before catching it and holding it firmly in her hand. “The Darkness took something much more important to you fairies.”

Tock was trembling at her words, unclear if it was with fear or anger. “What do you think the Darkness took from us?”

Jordan glanced at his empty back. “Your wings.”

“…” The fairy’s hands were gripping the counter in front of him. His fingers sank into the wood as easily as if it was made of clay.

“If it were just something to help you fly, I bet you would have simply made do without them. But they represent something much more important, don’t they?” She leaned closer, ignoring his threatening aura. “That’s where fairies store their magic. So now you have the live with the scraps of magic you absorb from the earth and enchanted items, unable to store it within yourself. That’s why you work here, in this pitiful little shop, unable to do more than hide behind these wards and peddle minor magic tricks for favors.”

“Be careful, mermaid…”

“Oh I’m careful enough, Tock.” She opened her hand and stared at the coin in her palm. “No wonder you wanted my skin… how much magic should be stored within it, I wonder. Enough to last you a few years I would think. Which is why this little coin is so important to you.”

“…”

“Fairy gold.” She held it up again. “Quite pretty, actually, looks like the real thing even on close inspection. But if I were to try to spend it… it would expel all the magic stored inside, turning to wood and taking away my lifetime’s luck. An inconvenience for me… but for you?” She grinned. “It stores enough magic for you to live comfortably for quite some time. You could leave this shop, set up protective wards wherever you ended up. Magic enough to stabilize your appearance so your eyes and ears don’t change; let you blend in if you wanted to leave your house for a change. “

“…”

“So what do you say, Tock.” Jordan flipped the coin one last time. “Do we have a deal?”

After a long pause, the fairy spoke up. “… I …”

“TOCK ARE YOU HERE?!!”

The shop door slammed open and a short redheaded young man burst in. As he rushed to the counter, Jordan got a closer look. He was a few inches shorter than her, his leaner frame still obviously muscular. His facial features were handsome, with bright green eyes that glowed with excitement and fiery red hair that was cropped short. He wore regular clothing, a grey t shirt and jeans, and would have seemed very average except for the massive axe strapped to his back.

Who the heck is this?

“Glit, this isn’t the time.” Tock warned, his tone still angry and tense.

“No, Tock, I’ve been thinking about it… maybe I SHOULD be willing to compromise… exactly how much skin would you need to help me find the dwarves?”

The fairy’s eyes glowed an excited gold, his teeth retracting once more as he stabilized his appearance. “Well now…”

“Add his bill to mine.” Jordan interrupted, glaring at Tock. “No skin.”

“But… that’s unfair! We already had a deal!”

“You didn’t accept it in time, so now the deal has changed. “ She shrugged “The price I’m offering is more than enough to cover us both. I would suggest you take the deal before it changes again.”

Tock glared. “FINE! FINE, I ACCEPT!”

The young man turned to her, shocked. She met his gaze, holding back the urge to sigh. Jordan wasn’t much one for random acts of kindness to strangers, but he reminded her of herself a few years ago. Lost, desperate… the only kind of people who can slip past Tock’s wards. She just wasn’t sure what his reaction would be to her interference… annoyance? Gratitude?’

He grinned at her. “You look really strong! Wanna fight?!”

… Well that certainly hadn’t been the reaction she was expecting.

“Maybe later…”

His shoulders slumped. “Dangit. I was losing hope of meeting a strong person in this awful city… no offense if you like it here.”

“None taken, I don’t.”

“I finally meet someone worthy of a good fight, and I make a terrible first impression.” He sighed. “My Ma always did say I needed to work on my introductions.”

“…And you are?”

His eyes widened. “I haven’t told you that yet?” His hand slapped his forehead. “Sorry, must have been distracted by the whole ‘trading my skin’ thing. I’m Glitenaere ni Tolk Vhelarite, firstborn of Marleiun ge Nerturin, the greatest Dwarven warrior alive… but you can call me Glit!”

She looked over the short young man. “You are the greatest warrior?”

“Nope. My Ma.”

“You’re a dwarf?”

“Since I was born.”

Jordan felt curious, having only ever read about dwarves from human textbooks, which said they were a reclusive, unfriendly race.

The reportedly unfriendly, reclusive dwarf was reaching out to shake her hand. “Thanks for the saving my skin, friend!”

She didn’t take his hand. “Shouldn’t you have a beard?”

Tock burst out into laughter, his eyes turning a humorous magenta. “Wow, way to go straight for the gut.”

“Aww, shut up fairy, she didn’t mean anything by it. Can’t blame her for not knowing in a city like this.” Glit leaned against the counter, rubbing his chin with an idle hand. “I’m a darkling, a child born infected by the Darkness.”

“Every race lost something.” Jordan whispered.

“Not everyone was infected, but those who were never grew beards.” He looked sad for a brief moment. “It’s a symbol of strength, of connection to the Earth… everything in our culture revolves around it.”

“What about the women?”

“Oh they grow them too. You should see my Ma. Her beard makes all the boys cry with jealousy.” Glit laughed. “They all thought with her being the strongest and all, her child would be too… but…”

“…Sorry.”

“Oh don’t worry, friend. I’m not weak. I may not have a connection with the earth and a powerful beard, but I’m a force to be reckoned with when I have an axe in my hand!”

Tock looked up, his eyes turning bright white. “You may have to test that out sooner rather than later. We have company.”

BANG! Something slammed into the closed door behind them.

_________________________________

Jordan took a defensive stance, while Glit drew his axe. “Who’s coming?”

“Probably one of those damn purity obsessed groups. They constantly sweep the slums, looking for low bloods and part elves. Usually the wards keep them away, but today, I got a little… distracted. “

“Great. Not really in the mood to deal with these guys, Tock.”

“They bad guys?” Glit spoke up.

“Yep.” Jordan answered softly. “They do horrible things to those who can’t defend themselves.”

“Fair enough. Today they picked on the wrong type of people, though.” Glit grinned. “Let’s kill them!”

His easy acceptance of the violence they would face ahead gave her a little pause. Before she could examine it too closely, the door crashed open, and a large group of men wearing black cloths around the lower halves of their faces rushed in. In their hands were standard pistols, the dull metal glinting off the many lamps of Tock’s shop.

“Looks like we got a haul, boys!” One of them spotted Glit and Jordan, his eyes widening with shock. “That short one definitely can’t be high purity… he’s either a low blood or a dirty elf mix blood! And the other…” He glanced and Jordan and laughed. “A No Blood? Thought they were all gone!”

Glit twirled the massive axe in his hand with ease, looking confused. “Do I look like an elf?”

Jordan thought of the tall quiet young man who had always followed behind her, always trying to avoid violence. “Not even a little.”

“Ah.” He tossed the axe lightly, catching it with the other hand. “Hey fellas, despite your insults and poor eyesight, I’m gonna be nice. Here’s your one chance to run away, before my strong friend and I start slicing you to pieces.”

Even with the majority of his face covered, the disdain on the attacker’s face was evident. “Shut up, dirty elf! Even with your axe, you really think you can face a group with guns?" He snorted, "Now we’re gonna have fun killing you.”

Glit just laughed at the threat. “I was hoping you guys would say that!”

As the group of attackers spread out around the room, he turned to face one side, leaving his back open to Jordan.

Jordan hesitated briefly at Glit’s open back, startled at the gesture of trust, before slowly turning to cover him. She glanced around to see that Tock had disappeared before closing her eyes, calling up the song within her and setting it free.

From her mouth a song of battle rang out. Several of the attackers stopped in their tracks, caught in her illusion, but the rest were only mildly affected, just barely losing their grips on their weapons.

Jordan cursed silently, still singing. Her magic was very effective against small groups of enemies, but the more people it was spread out against, the less useful it would be.

As the song of death spilled constantly from her lips, she felt her nails grow out into claws and moved forward, striking the attackers that were not incapacitated first. From the side she heard Glit run forward, spinning his axe, blood and tissue flying through the air as he cut through enemies.

Blood dripped from her fingers. She heard someone behind her, preparing to strike and turned, grabbing his neck. She felt the water within his heart, and used her magic to stop it in place. His face turned pale, and clutching his chest, he fell to the ground.

Jordan was feeling the drain of her magic. Her vision was turning a bright blue, the song growing in her mind, calling for her to give in completely.

BANG! A shot rang out past her ear, and sensing the danger, the song surged louder in her soul.

Can’t give up all control to my instincts. She thought grimly, slicing the shooter’s face. I might just lose myself completely.

It was hard, fighting against physical enemies while resisting the magical bind of her own blood, but Jordan forced herself forward, grateful for the help of the dwarf beside her. If she had faced all these enemies by herself, she might have lost to the bloodlust within her.

The air was filled with blood and screams.

And then… there was silence.

__________________________________

Jordan’s vision cleared as she forced the song of the ocean down, keeping it tightly controlled within herself. Her nails retracted and she stood in place, staring down at the blood on her hands.

Hunter always said he didn’t want me to be a killer. She closed her eyes briefly with pain. She felt dirty, worthless. Maybe if I wasn’t one he wouldn’t have left me behind.

Lost in her thoughts, she only came out of it as she felt a warm touch on her hands. Shocked, her eyes flew open, only to see Glit pushing a large wet cloth into her grasp.

“Here, friend, you can clean your hands with this.”

She paused, unused to the kindness, but took it anyways. “Thanks.”

“No problem! You’re amazing! That battle song… had magic in it right? Are you not human?”

“Mermaid.” The word came out before she could stop it, and Jordan pressed her lips together, annoyed. He’s a stranger. No need to tell him anything more. She tucked the dirty rag in her pocket, not wanting to give Tock a free sample of her blood.

“Really? I thought they had all disappeared!” Glit’s face lit up. “My Ma always said that the mermaids were the only warriors she wouldn’t want to face up against! That’s awesome!”

She glanced at the dismembered bodies on his side of the room. “You’re not such a bad fighter yourself.”

His smile brightened. “Really? Thanks! Those guys back home thought I was pretty useless, being a Darkling and all, but if a mermaid warrior says so, I’ll trust your opinion!”

“This is all very touching… but what am I supposed to do about the mess you made?” Tock’s annoyed tone caught their attention.

“We fought off your attackers while you hid in the back, fairy.” Jordan raised an eyebrow. “You can worry about the mess. You’re lucky we don’t charge you for the service.”

“Yeah, what she said!” Glit crossed his arms, standing at her shoulder, and smiled at Tock, the still bloody axe in his hand making the gesture threatening.

Tock rolled his now yellow eyes. “Fine. While you two were gleefully tearing those idiots to pieces, I finished the tasks you gave me.” He spread a map on the counter, ignoring as the far corner was stained with blood. Jordan recognized it as a map of the city. With a golden pen the fairy circled a few buildings. “Here’s where the amulet has spent the most time in the last six months, in order of most time spent.”

She glanced over at Glit beside her. “And the dwarves?”

“Tougher, since he doesn’t have a possession from the dwarves in question, but…” He picked up a silver marker, and circled one place. “There is a high concentration of earth magic here.”

Glit and Jordan stared at the spot, where silver and gold overlapped.

“Looks like me might be looking for the same place.” She whispered.

“Really? That’s great, friend!” He paused. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“Jordan. But I don’t think we’re friends. I don’t trust anyone.” Not anymore.

“Jordan!” He grinned. “Don’t worry, we can still be friends. You don’t have to trust me. I’ll trust you enough for the both of us.”

Tock groaned. “You’re so naïve… why couldn’t you have shown up when the mermaid wasn’t around?! I could have extorted you for so much skin!”

Jordan grabbed the map silently, unsure of how to respond to the dwarf’s enthusiasm.

“If you’re going there, can we go together? I’m looking for a large group of dwarves that disappeared, we think they might be being held captive in the city.”

“…You really shouldn’t trust people so easily.” Her words came out as a pained whisper.

Glit’s face became solemn for the first time since they met. “It’s okay. I’ve grown up in a world that hates me. It’s not been easy, but over the years, I’ve developed a good sense of those around me, and what kind of people they are.”

“And kind of person do you think I am?” She was genuinely curious what the cheerful dwarf thought of her.

“You? Well, you’re someone who cares too much and wishes you wouldn’t. My guess is that you’ve been hurt very badly by someone you trusted… and now you would never wish that same pain on another person.” He shrugged. “So that’s why I trust you. You might kill me if you have to, but you’ll do it facing me. You won’t stab me in the back. You couldn’t bear to do that to someone after what you’ve been through.”

“Interesting opinion.” Jordan felt a strange mixture of despair and relief at his words. “Not put off by me killing men while they’re stunned by magic? That wasn’t just a fight…I’m a killer.”

“Hmm… well, I just chopped up six guys with an axe, and the only reason they didn’t shoot a bunch of holes in me is because of your magic, so I’m pretty sure I can’t judge.” Glit patted her on the back. “Are you looking for mermaids, like I’m looking for dwarves?”

She nodded silently, although silently she thought their reasons for looking were quite different.

“Then let’s go find our people together! You don’t have to trust your back to me, but don’t worry! I’ll defend it anyways.”

“Can you two leave?" Tock rubbed his face tiredly, his eyes flickering between purple and pink. "This touchy feely stuff is bad for my business. What if some desperate fool walks in and is inspired by all your motivational speaking?”

Jordan tossed him the fairy gold, taking back the silver badge she had given him, and turned and left the shop. “Never coming back, Tock.”

“Keep telling yourself that, my fishy friend!” He called back. “You’ll come back. They always do.”

“Okay then! See you later, Tock!” Glit called out as he walked behind her.

“…Actually, I would prefer it if YOU don’t come back. You give me a headache.”

Jordan and Glit left the carnage filled shop behind them

_________________________________

“So mermaids and dwarves being held in the center of the city.” Glit thought out loud. “Some sort of human conspiracy?”

Jordan thought of growing up in the orphanage, the city’s emphasis on having higher purity of mermaid blood rather than human, the complete lack of information on other races. She thought of Hunter and the underground Resistance. Of the Darkness that spread everywhere, touching every species.

Everyone lost something to the darkness, right?

So what did mermaids lose?

... What did I lose?

“There’s something broken about this world, more going on here then we realize.” Jordan answered softly. “But we’re going to figure it out.”

“Together?”

“For now.”

“Awesome!” He pumped a fist in the air. “Wait until I tell my Ma I went on a quest with a mermaid warrior. She’s gonna be so impressed!” He paused. “You two would get along, I think. Strong warrior types and all.”

Jordan sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“Why does everyone keep sighing around me?”

“… Let’s go. “

_________________________________

They moved quietly towards the place marked on the map. Glit, surprisingly, activated a hidden mechanism on his axe, folding it into thirds and hiding it in a backpack, and pinned on a “34” badge. He saw her glance at the silver ornament and shrugged. “Snatched this off some guy who tried to mug me when I arrived in town. Most people think I’m just a low purity level student when I’m dressed like this .”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“…” Older than me? Jordan adjusted her mental view of him silently.

“Don’t worry if you thought I was younger.” He raised his hands helplessly. “No beard and the dwarven height tends to confuse people.”

“Sorry.”

“No worries, as long as you don’t think I’m weak and helpless just because I’m shorter than you.”

She thought of him cutting through enemies with his axe. “No chance of that.”

They made they way to the abandoned factory that Tock had marked for them. As they neared the area, Glit pulled out a machine from his bag waving it through the air.

“What’s that?”

“Dwarven machine, it detects the presence of magic.” He frowned. “We need to be careful. This whole place is covered with spells.”

“If this was a human holding place…”

“It shouldn’t have magic.” He finished her thought. “Maybe go up to the roof and enter from there instead?”

They scaled the wall silently, cutting a small hole in the roof with yet another tool from Glit’s bag. As she peered into the building, she felt the ocean’s song start welling up within her.

“There’s danger here. We should go back and regroup.”

“Jordan, look out!” Glit pushed her to the side, wincing as the blow from behind her struck his head instead.

Jordan opened her mouth to release her magic, but before a sound could escape, a hand grasped her arm and magic flooded her body.

“Sleep.” The voice was familiar, but her mind was already falling into darkness.

Jordan woke up on a couch in a dark room. Groaning, she rubbed her head, feeling angry. She knew this feeling, this hung over dizzy sensation. Remembered it too clearly even though she wished she could forget.

“Elven magic.”

Glit groaned from his sprawled position in the corner of the room, his arms and legs tied tightly. The ropes dug into his skin, but he ignored it as he flipped his body into a sitting position on the floor, looking up at her with a sad expression. “Sorry I missed them behind us.”

“It’s fine, thanks for taking that hit for me.” She glanced at the wound on his head, crusted with dried blood, and winced. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just a friendly tap. I’ve got a hard head.” He grinned, then looked around. “Real question is, who has us, and why?”

“I have an idea... but I really hope I’m not right.”

“You always did have good instincts, Jordan.”

The familiar voice spoke up from the doorway, Jordan forced herself to sit up on the couch, staring at their captor with a pained expression.

She knew him.

Of course she knew him.

He had set his trap, sent her his badge, knowing she would use it… and she had fallen for it.

The man who haunted her nightmares smiled sadly at her. “Not happy to see me?”

She blinked, shaking her head slowly. “Hello again, Hunter.”

#writing #fantasy #violence #elves #mermaids #dwarves #fairies #apocalypse #action #part 2 is here!#Will answer asks with next pfts part

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rosaetae · 3 years

Text

spellbound to be | one

☇ “I don’t need to drink your blood to have my lips on your neck.”

[this is a part of tale of the purebloods] — prologue / one / two

➣ pairing: jungkook x reader

➣ genre: vampire!jungkook, fanatasy!au, soulmate!au, angst

➣ word count: 12.3k

➣ rating: pg-13

➣ synopsis: jeon jungkook is the cursed pureblood to have fallen in deep love with someone who was not his Complement. having to have fallen hard, he has to compensate with a life full of heartbreak and pain— one of which a burden weighs heavily on his shoulders. so much so, he hires a witch one day to reverse his inevitable Complement tie.

Bloodshed.

That is what derives from Witch Trial Week at Ember Academy— overly exaggerating, of course. A witch-made week established decades ago, the equivalence to Hell Week in the mundane world, but something your friend, Piper likes to call "Heaven Week" for her own musings.

Ember Academy's witches spend the week hexing, jinxing, cursing each other in the light of every October 31st, Halloween. There's no real motive behind it. Before, whoever was the last witch standing would be given special treatment, but in modern day, it was used as a tactic for the professors to oversee who would be a powerful witch, for some it was a mechanism to either get revenge or to let out one's anger. For you, it was always fun.

To your misfortune, you were at the short end of the stick, being clever and witty enough to be made part of Witch Trial Week, one of the notable witches that some would target, but unlike the rest of Ember Academy, you didn't grow up with the others. They all knew each other the day you stepped into the academy, looking and talking about you as if you were anything but one of them.

And it was true, you weren't fully one of them.

Growing up, you lived in the mundane world, surrounded by people who upheld no special abilities as those in the Upper World. Surely, you were no stranger to the realm of where your mother comes from, you coming home every day from primary school to your father, a human, and your mother, a full-fledged witch who gave up her immortality and her life in the Upper World for the sake of her Complement. You'd spend the day learning simple arithmetic, and after school, you'd come home to your mother teaching you simple, harmless charms.

It was a normal life growing up for you, your upbringing never straying too far from your roots. On some nights, your father put you to bed by telling you bedtime stories, on other nights, your mother would sing a lullaby of broken latin. You were convinced for awhile that it was your mother's soothing voice, but at a certain age when she stopped singing you to sleep, she exposed that it was a siren's song she learned from a friend in her hometown.

As a child, you'd constantly ask about the Upper World, having constant dreams about another worldly realm and a recurring figure holding their hand out for you. And the minute your finger grazes theirs, you awake. Not on your bed made of sea water and a ceiling made of glass, but in your normal New York apartment that had some crooked crevices on the ceiling, on your springy mattress with beige linen sheets. Although, despite your continuous desire to visit your mother's home world, your mother and father were very against world hopping.

However, due to your father's passing when you turned 14, there was no reason as to why your mother should keep you in the mundane world any longer if you didn't want to stay, and brought you to the Upper World of where your dreams of it had come to reality.

Entering Ember Academy, you could not fathom why your mother was so strict of you convincing yourself and everyone else around you that you are a full-fledged witch. And then you learn during one of the history classes that a hybrid witch that shares two worlds forbidden from each other was subjected to execution if entered the soil of the Upper World. You never understood why such a thing as your existence had such dire consequences, but that just made you more aware of your lies to everyone in the Upper World.

Your mother raised you believing that love shouldn't be forbidden, no matter the circumstances, even if that meant two different worlds. The mundane world was like that too. Star-crossed lovers consisting of Romeo and Juliet, Jack and Rose, Joel and Clementine, your own parents— they're all the epitome of what your mother likes to gush on and on about. And in hindsight, you are the product of it.

Due to your inability to grow up with the other witches, you had almost the entire academy against you for the past few years, especially on Witch Trial Week, only for this year to completely change that.

In the mundane world, sports like kickboxing was one of your favorites, and while there was no such thing as kickboxing in the Upper World, your main characteristic was that you like to play rough. A tug a war, a game of chess— this year, you were not holding back.

"Don't be so quick to be disappointed, Piper."

Piper, one of your only purely good friends at Ember Academy, watches you grind up dried lavender buds in a hard stone mortar and pestle, making a few grinds before running an index finger along an old page of your mother's book you took without her permission. She plops down onto her seat in front of you, her dark purple hair bouncing on her shoulders as she taps on her star glitters on her face. "It's Witch Trial Week, ___. That means I have to witch-proof all of my belongings because Rina and her damn fritter friends are going to pull a last year's move."

"Oh, come on. It wasn't that bad," you state, pouring the crushed up lavender into a glass bottle that had frog mucus and torn rose petals sitting inside about one fourth of the way. Piper doesn't question what you were up to, only continuing to voice out her frustrations.

"They cursed my assignments! You know how many extra credit assignments I had to do? 200 points gone because of this bloody witch-made week!"

Smirking, you peer up at her before standing up from your seat to grab a large jar of purple dragon drool on a shelf right behind you, before sitting back down, "calm down, I have plotted the perfect revenge."

"What?" Piper raises an eyebrow, her facial expression looking concerned. "Is that dragon drool?"

Opening up the jar, Piper makes a sour face when the aroma of a putrid, green whiff draws out of the jar, you having to stifle in a cough at the stench that made no warning traveling up your sinuses. Bringing your index finger and thumb to pinch your nose, you grab the small wooden serving spoon attached to the side of it and put two heeping spoonfuls of the dragon drool into your concoction before swiftly shutting the jar and finally being able to breathe again.

Piper lets out an exhale she's been holding in, staring at you with wide eyes, waiting for an answer that you were sort of stalling as you rip up a piece of paper. "I borrowed my mother's infamous dark magic book."

She gulps at the sound of that. "Dark magic?"

"Calm down, it's not that bad," you roll your eyes at her fear of using an area of magic that you were technically not supposed to touch upon— but you couldn't help it. It's dark magic, it's bound to be used somehow. "Just going to tease around with Rina's emotions a bit. We all know she's been trying to hit on Namjoon despite her Complement is Doyeon. I'm making a simple love potion for Namjoon to fall in love with Rina— only for the week though. She'll be a bit heartbroken at the end, but hey, she stained my uniform with troll's blood last year."

Jung Rina, daughter of Ember Academy's high priestess, who also adapts an attitude problem. She likes to taunt other witches from afar because of the power she gains from being the high priestess's daughter, cursing and jinxing others and acting as if it wasn't her— she gets away with it anyways. Unsure why, even when you do mind your own business, it's as if Rina has something against you— you confirmed this when even after Witch Trial Week, she wouldn't stop jinxing you.

Last year, she took your uniform while you were showering after with a game of shuntbumps, only to wear a uniform stained with a bright yellow color leaving a horrendous, pungent smell of troll's blood. It was one of the most talked about trick for the year, everyone bringing up the fact that Ms. Jung Rina was able to get her hands on troll's blood and use you as a target. A laughing stock, the black sheep— you've endured it for long enough.

"You're using dark magic! On the high priestess's daughter! That's—"

"Risky? I could care less." You finish for her, shrugging. You write down the template for the love spell that was written in high level latin, writing it carefully letter by letter. As your quill inks the paper, you look at a sweating Piper momentarily. "Stop worrying! If anything, you're guilty by association."

Piper places her hands over eyes and sighs. "I did not see anything."

"No, you didn't," you muse along with her as you place your quill back into its holder and roll up the paper into a thin tube, tapping it into the bottle that finishes up the spell. You watch as the dragon's drool acidifies the paper, already acidifying the rose petals, ground lavender buds, and frog's mucus prior, all in all creating a lilac hue in the glass bottle. "See? It's done. Now I just need to pour this into his cup of juniper latte when we go to potions."

"Huh," Piper says aloud. "That's sneaky."

Clicking your tongue at her, you slam the dark magic book closed, quickly shoving it into your tote bag while you plug the glass bottle with a cork, gently placing it along with the magic book.

"May the games begin," you whisper audibly only for Piper to let out another sigh of disappointment, but also in anticipation.

Everything was going smoothly. Going to class was like a mission, having to make sure that you don't mindlessly enter a trap, but as you sit down in your seat, in the sight of Professor Young of where safe base was, you just had to get through this class without being suspicious. Despite all else, everything was smooth sailing. Even pouring the potion into Namjoon's juniper latte when he wasn't paying attention was easy. And you noticed that no one has caught you— yet.

In a whirl of lingering moments, the grace period, you were sat in your seat, reading your potions book when you hear an abrupt sound, you and almost everyone in the class looking up to see Namjoon, his told figure looming over the other students with eyes wide as day.

He makes one audible noise, "Rina," before dashing out of the potion room in a coarse and gawky manner, Professor Young calling after him while the rest of the class took it to their own accord to follow him, already presuming that something only Witch Trial Week can influence. Eventually, all classes grew curious of the commotion that people trickle into the crowd as they follow in a hearty distance from Namjoon's graceless gait.

You pull Piper to the side when you see Namjoon approach his and your target, standing from one of the many columns of the area to get a good look given by the angle you were given. Piper couldn't help but to let out an amused giggle when you both see the moment unfold in front of your eyes.

"Namjoon?" Rina speaks, her cheeks going red when she sees Namjoon on his knees, head down. You almost snort at how her eyes go wide when she finds her biggest crush right in front of her, thinking this was out of his own willingness— Namjoon actually being in love with Rina. "Namjoon, what are you doing?"

"I love you!"

The loud announcement rings and echoes in waves down the hallway, you and Piper already having a hard time stifling your laughter at the confession. Rina gulps before she lets out a scoff in disbelief, a smile creeping on her face as if this was a moment she was expecting. Her cockiness makes you want to gag.

"I love you with all my heart, Rina! I want to stay by your side forever!"

Whispers upon whispers dissipate into the air, one of concern, one of cheer for Rina, and one of straight amusement.

Rina raises her eyebrows, clearing her throat. "Namjoon."

"Please, keep me in your life," Namjoon states, almost like a whimper. In that moment, he peers up at Rina with huge bug eyes, as if he was really begging. The anticipation stabs at you like daggers as Rina continues to stare at him in both awe and confusion by the sudden confession. "Master."

The last word leaves his mouth almost like a mutter, and you were for sure, for a mere second, that you misheard him— everyone did, until you're finding Namjoon leap from his stance into Rina's arms, immediately peppering her with kisses on her cheeks, causing her to stumble backwards. The murmurs amongst the crowd grow, following with a few giggles as Rina is trying to push Namjoon away, trying to hold in her giggles.

"Namjoon," Rina says through fits of giggles as she brings her hands up to his chest, trying to keep some distance between them. "Namjoon, not—"

The words are taken out of her mouth when Namjoon, shamelessly and giddily swipes his entire tongue along her cheek, earning a large gasp from the crowd. It leaves not only you in shock, but as well as Rina who entirely freezes in realization of the contact that was just made. Your mouth hangs open, until you roll your lips inward, trying so very hard not to break into a fit of laughter.

"Wrong spell, you hobworm!" Piper whisper yells, slapping a hand on your arm as you let a snigger out, looking at your friend with amusement, wondering why she wasn't finding this just as funny as you did.

"Hobworm?" You gasp at her insult, your amusement unabashedly shining through.

Piper scowls at you, biting her tongue to prevent from encouraging you further into amusement. "You cast the wrong spell!"

As your smile grows, you shake your head. "No, I swear I didn't. I did everything correctly—"

"Then why on earth is Namjoon under a puppy love spell?"

Glancing your eyes at Rina, you hear whispers among the crowd who watch as she tries to push a puppy in love Namjoon away from her. He whines and whimpers each time she makes the distance greater between them.

"Who did this!" Rina exclaims, trying to push a licking Namjoon away from her. "Who in the heavens thought this was funny? I will be reporting this to my mother and every little squeamish fritter that allowed this to happen— no, Namjoon, bad dog!"

This allows you to snort, all your laughter you were containing bursting out as you couldn't hold it in anymore. However, doing so only allows Rina to make direct eye contact with you, her face twisting in volatile spite, knowing very well that you are the culprit. Widening your eyes, you began to run before your mind processed it.

"___!" Rina screeches from the tops of her lungs, everyone in front of you turning heads to find you, the witch who dared to pull a little stunt against the High Priestess's daughter.

Legs stride step by step, zooming through the halls with adrenaline pumping your veins as the wretched witch was probably right behind you, chasing you down when you hear the sounds of heels, knowing very well that's Rina's 3-inch heeled mules clacking in the distance. Professors peek their head out of their classroom in curiosity, some yelling at you to not run in the halls, however, your eye is set on the prize— the exit.

It was closed, and to save time, you swipe your hand in front of you, a spell recited in your head swinging the door wide open that it hits the walls and causes a loud slamming noise. It was the door that led out to the garden of the academy of where fresh herbs grew, and at this point of your escape plan, you were hoping to hide in the depths of the greenhouse until class ended.

You run down the steps, eyes looking down as your feet land on each step, careful not to miss one or you'd fall down to your doom. And just when you safely made it down the staircase, you are bumped into a wall of rigid flesh and muscle, your immediate reaction to apologize, except the words are taken out of your mouth when you look up and see the face on all pictures and drawings matching to the person who looked just as mesmerizing in person as he is on paper; the one and only—

"Your grace," Jungkook hears you sputter, shutting your eyes and lowering your head to hide your own embarrassment and disappointment in such a quick second. His men behind him step forward, but he raises a hand to halt them in their place. "My sincere apologies—"

"Do you have no mind?" Jungkook hears the secretary who was leading him on a tour around Ember Academy snap, her booming and high-pitched screech at the sheer shame that has been exchanged by this incident.

"I am so incredibly sorry, your grace. I am at fault—"

The king himself is not at all bothered by a simple bump by a young witch, considering that it seemed you were on the run from something. He glances down at you in subtle curiosity, your head bowed before him with your hair braided, as you stand still despite the constant nagging of the secretary scolding you for being so unaware. And something catches his eye.

His eyes focus in on the crystal of pale, fair, ivory that hangs on your neck. It twinkles in his sight with the sunlight just bouncing off of it into his cornea, right before he settles in recognition of where he recalls it. There's a swift movement moments later of where you raise your head just slight, only to lock eyes with him.

How you've grown, he thinks to himself. He remembers how your eyes were that of similar of a doe, and how you stared at him with the same wide eyes when you were little. It scares him how much time has passed and how you stand before him, more matured than before— he wasn't expecting to see you this soon.

The locked gaze lasted briefly before your eyes widen and you bring your head back down.

He manages to let out a sigh, "I suggest you pay attention where you are going in the future."

Jungkook can tell that you were surprised by his response, despite you committing the worst crime by even daring to be this close to the king. Even the secretary was a distance away from him.

"Yes, your grace."

"You may look up," he speaks. The permission makes you hesitate, but swallowing the lump in your throat, you inhale deeply and rise, and when you steadily meet his eyes, immediately, it's as if you could see his past. The pain and sorrow he has been through. It all encompasses into the hallows of his eyes.

"What is your name?" You blink at the question blankly as he awaits your answer, arching an eyebrow when you stay mute. "Well?"

"___," you answer. "My name is ___, your grace."

There's this glint in Jungkook's eye that even he is aware that you notice. It occurs to him that he has not once asked your name before, but somehow he finds it this moment valuable to gain that piece of you. Meanwhile, you hope he does not find any significance to your name, that this incident isn't one to be held against one day.

It's then, he smirks, giving a single nod, etching your name into his brain for he knows he will not forget it.

"Your name will be in my memory, ___," he speaks ominously. Your heart drops in return. "You are dismissed."

six years later.

"Welcome."

The books weighed heavy in your arms, but you ignored the fact that it was nearly slipping out of your grasp as you gripped on the jar of dried magnolia leaves in the other hand, making your way to the small work table just right out into the shop of where you greet the presence inside the shop. Taking one last step to your marked destination, you let out a sigh of relief, your shoulders relaxing as you plop all of the buttery books onto the work table, still keeping the jar of magnolia leaves in your grasp.

"Is Circe here?"

At first, the voice processes in your mind, realizing that you were so engrossed on completing a minor trip without making a fool of yourself and dropping all your books at once that you forget for a mere moment that someone was in the shop. And what makes your whole body freeze like the ice age of modern day was the name you haven't heard in so long— only when your father would let it tumble out of his mouth and him being the last one to ever speak of the name.

The aura shifted within the shop. Not daring to turn around and meet eye to eye with the person who knows your mother's real identity, you keep your back turned away, placing the jar gently onto the table right next to your books, a pinky setting down first before gently setting down the bottom of the jar to relieve the loud sound it would have made.

"Who's asking?"

There's a moment of hesitation, one that you can only take in as sly and mischievous. Silently, you maintain a mantra in your head, one that recites a spell to freeze one's muscles entirely, the silence teeter totter between having to put the spell to use or not. The sound of a step is heard— one that sounds too close for your liking that in a whirlwind, you swiftly twirl around and let the mantra come to life in an instant, "carpe musculus."

And with wide eyes, you realize your mistake immediately when eyes lock with the ones that belong to the sheer ruler of the property you stand on— the king. It wasn't hard to forget them, since the last time you two had a rather unpleasant encounter. His eyebrow quirks up at your spell you casted upon him, his body completely frozen over as he was in the midst of grabbing one of the crystal necklaces hung on display at the register, an arm outstretched, but posture and dignified stature remained.

"An old acquaintance."

"Verto," you mutter, blinking with the same wide eyes as you see him gain control over his muscles again, his hand retracting and meeting his other hand from the behind, his throat clearing at the situation that he assumed— correctly— that you were fearful of. Bringing your head down instinctively, you open your mouth with eyes shut. "Your grace, I apologize—"

"Apology accepted," he cuts you off, making you peer up at his form from the curtains of your draping hair. Slowly, you rise your head, keeping your chin up to match his formal, dignified persona. "I am merely here to see your mother."

Scoffing lightly, you let your lips curl upward, turning around to grab at the jar of dried magnolia leaves from the table. "You must be an old acquaintance to call my mother by her real name," you take note aloud, wandering and maneuvering around the vast shop to the corner near the front of where the jars of special ingredients sit in the cupboards.

"Is Circe not what she goes by?"

You shake your head, opening the jar with one of the keys wrapped around your neck, twisting and turning before the cupboard unraveled a collection started by your mother. "Cora," you correct him. "She went by Cora."

"Very well then. Is Cora present?"

You blink at the question, mindlessly nudging the other jars to make room for your new ingredient you've obtained from the village due to a friendly seller who saved the leaves just for you.

"You just missed her," you announce, placing the jar snugly just between the phoenix feathers and pickled frog tongues. "By three years. She passed away."

"She passed?" The king speaks his question in subtle shock, evidently oblivious to your mother's passing, one that makes you question what connection he had to your mother as you turn around to meet his wide eyes. Politely, he realizes the atmosphere that was created and clears his throat. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"I'm sorry for yours," you try to keep the the spirits high, a teasing smile on your lips. "It seems like whatever reason you came here for was pretty important if the king is in need of my mother's services. And in replacement of my mother's absence, how may I assist you?"

In comparison to the young witch that was so invigorated with competition that you grew blind to your own surroundings, you were not like her to easily cower in front of intimidating figures— including the king— anymore. If she saw you now, she'd probably wonder why you are so nonchalant speaking to the king as you are in the moment, but there is one thing you noticed that allowed you to act the way that you are now.

He came into the shop looking for your mother, seeking for her services. Though he has the power to put you into exile or to chop your head off or to even rip your heart out of your chest, it means nothing when he is obviously wanting a favor.

Jungkook's eyes narrow slightly before he scoffs lightly. "Not quite sure if you can help me."

"I'm not that sure either," you muse. "But I am the next option to my mother's assistance. Or if you have no interest of my assistance, then I believe this shop is not meant for you, your grace."

It wasn't hard to notice that he was having an internal battle the minute you turned the other cheek to resume what you were doing. Shutting the cabinet and locking it, you wander to the back of the room of where the work table was, taking the top book of the stack and dusting it with one of your mini feather dusters.

"What do you know about Complements?"

Freezing your wrist, you take a second to process the question set in the air, your eyebrows furrowing. Setting the duster and the ancient novel down, you twirl around once more to meet the eyes of the distant king, each second becoming more comfortable under his gaze that seemingly brought temptation and fear amongst others.

"Depends. I'm not very interested in the topic enough to know the ins and outs of it. However, I do know how to expose a Compliment tie—"

"What about erasing a Complement tie?"

An eyebrow shoots up on your face, his questions becoming more questionable from your mere curious uprising, but as you let his inquiry sit in your mind, you shrug. "Never been done."

His grace scoffs, allowing the pad of his thumb swipe under his nose before returning to hold his hand from his behind. "That's what your mother said."

"And I'm afraid, to this day, her word remains true," retorting to his attitude, you fold your arms over your chest. "However, I can unknot a Complement tie if needed."

"Your mother has already done that."

"Of course she has," you roll your eyes, realizing that the more you talk to the king of Frawen, the more you realize that you were talking to a wall. "How about this? I will do some digging about it in her archives. She has mentioned before that terminating a Compliment tie is hard. However, I do believe it's not impossible." He stares at you attentively before you placate his energy with a smile, a little light of hope intended. "I will come by your castle once I've retrieved a decent amount of information."

He stays silent, a steady gaze on your eyes that slowly made you more uncomfortable with each passing second, but thank the dark lords that someone enters your shop, the door making a very loud entrance that ruined the staring contest between you two, your eyes averting to the customer who entered the premises.

"Welcome," you announce, strolling from the work table up to the front to sit right behind the register, flickering your eyes towards the king when seeing that he hasn't moved from his spot. "Until then, King Jungkook, I have a customer to attend to."

The customer that saved the awkward tension takes a step into the shop, but with a single glance headed their way from the king, the customer drops their head and mutters an, "I'll wait outside" and flees back into the Upper World sun, the door shutting again. Lips parting, you gape at Jungkook who looks back at you, ignoring that his own presence had made one of your customers scurry off in intimidation.

"When will I hear from you again?"

Scoffing at him, you shake your head at his evident advantage and inhale deeply. "I'll start doing some research tonight, your grace. Expect me in front of your castle in two days. And if you could kindly so, can you tell my customer they may come in on your way out?"

He lets his gaze linger on yours for a second before silently nodding on his way out, his presence exchanged for the customer's. The customer glances at you awkwardly as you count write something on a piece of paper with your quill, as if confused that you were not trembling after just speaking with the king, but going back to your normal day as if the king had never arrived.

"Why, King Jungkook came to visit. Quite sooner than I expected," the amused tone that drips from Circe's tongue when she notices the arrival of none other than the King of Frawen just two weeks after he had gone up and left her abode after the reveal of his dreaded Complement tie.

"Came to greet a happy birthday to her?" The witch doesn't meet his brooding gaze, but gathers bouquets of flowers in her hold.

"No," he flatly states. "I still have a favor to ask of you."

"Ah," Circe nods, balancing the bouquet carefully before tossing her aging hair over her shoulder. "The one about your Complement? You left so quick the last time we spoke."

Jungkook clenches his jaw, an attempt to not forget that his own fear and apprehension after making the forsaken revelation that he had met his Complement so soon; a child— a hybrid, a product against the Upper World law— is his Complement. Curse himself for being so easily affected.

And while the two have known each other for awhile, Circe wastes no time to remind him of inevitable fate, despite her own idea of the past he carries. It weighs on him heavily that even Circe cannot recognize the aura of whom she once knew of.

"Yes," he inhales sharply. "I need you to erase it."

Circe bellows a light chuckle, one that makes his eyebrows raise at the response. "Are you insinuating I kill my daughter?"

Jungkook knows that the witch likes to dig in places to prevent the other party from kicking around the bush. She hates fluff and she hates time being wasted. Only now, giving up her eternal life only makes her that much crabbier about it.

"Do you believe that I'd be daft enough to try to imply such a thing?" He shakes his head, a slight smirk growing on his face. "Murder doesn't sit very well on my shoulders, Circe. You must at least know that much of me."

"Do I? It's been too long."

Jungkook smiles at the grinning witch, "I am insinuating you sever our Complement tie."

The witch in decorative forest green and black, stares at the king who wears a sack-colored cloak that did not do justice hiding his black, feathered doublet that resembled such royalty and wealth. Even with the hood on, it is no mistaking that the man with raven hair and pale, glimmering skin, is the king. She laughs, her finger tapping against the paper wrapped around the bouquet of plum-hued calla lilies. "I'm afraid I can only live up to your favor in part."

"The most powerful witch I know cannot cut a Complement tie?"

She is no stranger to his challenges, but because she has no need to maintain the name of being the infamous witch who wields such immense power no longer (as she knows that name will be given to someone much worthy), she merely shrugs, a smile on her face. "Not even I know how to cut a Complement tie, dearest Jungkook."

"Your lack of knowledge of erasing something as mere as a Complement tie is disconcerting, Circe."

The witch hums in response, before whispering something of broken latin, and with a waver of a her fingers, a string of deep scarlet attaches against Jungkook's chest, one that floats in the air and trails in a ragged line right over Circe's shoulder and through the wooden door of her home as if he were tied to something— to someone.

The unveiling of the string causes Jungkook's breath to be caught in his throat, a pinch of nothing like before right against his chest of where the string is attached to.

"I see that, despite your best efforts, you could not stray away from her. And you want to know why?" Circe turns over her shoulder, before pointing at the single evident knot made along the string. "This knot was formed when she touched you and so long as it is there, you will live in constant yearning to see her and to be with her. Tell me, how many times have you had to prevent yourself from coming here until it became too unbearable?"

"Can you reverse it? Untie the knot?" His breath is tattered, uneven. It's as if the exposure of the string wrapped every inch of his heart and silently, the king of Frawen fears that his heart might be taken out of his chest.

"I can," she nods, an expression of indifference on her face. "But doing so does not change the fact that you are each other's Complements. It means that you will no longer feel the constant and desperate need to see her."

"Then I beg of you to do it—"

"However, the bond is strong, Jungkook," her gold eyes stare back at him before they soften, as Jungkook's mental mantras to fight off the peculiar pain deriving from the scarlet string has become a door to all of the pains he has experienced in the past. "I fear that the more you leave it in the dark, the more it will create more conflicts in the future."

"Having this complement now is already creating conflicts for me, Circe."

"Jungkook, if you two were to see each other again by the universe's happenings, must you know that the knot cannot be made again by simple touches. It has to be tied by the hand of a witch."

"If it's not any burden to you," he breathes in sharply. "I'd like you to unknot our Complement tie."

Circe makes a face of indifference before sighing. "Very well," she states just before she mumbles another string of latin and snaps, and lo and behold, the knot unravels by itself. The scarlet rope looked like it had no indentation of where the knot once was.

Jungkook lets out an aching sigh, as if he was under water for too long. Circe makes one more movement of her hand before the red string dissipates into the air, no longer exposed to the eye.

"There," she says. "Now leave, before she sees you again."

Circe doesn't give Jungkook a look of goodbye as she hurries inside her house. She feels the presence of Jungkook leave, exhaling in relief as she peers down at her daughter who gleams up at her, her hair in two buns on either side of her head. Her daughter lets out a squeal of "mommy!" before dropping a sage bundle in her hand to run up and hug Circe's leg.

"Happy birthday, my dear. Six years old already?" The witch pats her daughter's head as she giggles against her. "Go on into the kitchen. I'll be there in a moment."

And as she turns around to trot inside the kitchen, Circe takes notice of her neck that has been exposed due to her hairstyle that she wanted to wear this morning. The etching of her Complement mark that once inked her skin of a rose, had become a blank canvas.

As if the mark was never there to begin with.

You haul across the other wing of the castle that stretches from the main entrance of where the gigantic black, grandiose door stares at you mockingly for not having the privilege to be invited by the king himself as well as enter the main entrance to unravel the glory of what stood for centuries.

Servants of the fairest skin and darkest of hairs escort you to the a room you are unsure of, but you don't question them when they open the doors for you of the building. This was as close you were ever getting to the castle.

"Your grace," you announce your arrival before you could realize that another man stands there from the side of your kingdom's king. Freezing in place with books tensing against your chest, your lips part. "King Jimin—!"

"Hello— oh, please. I don't like the bowing," his voice is light, a striking contrast from Jungkook's ominous tone. You lift your head that was on the way down of honorability, eyes staying wide at his unexpected presence. "Trust me, I'm not a big formalities type of person like my brother."

"What is it? Did you find anything?" The king ruins the moment by his barking, an impatience growing in his chest.

You open your mouth, and close it. "Yes, and no."

"Proceed."

Walking over to the table, Jimin smirks when he hears the loud plop that comes from your stacks of ancient books slapping on the table, dust sprinkles in the air by such impact as you wave it dismissively out of your face to spread out the books evenly.

"These are just merely collections my mother had of Complement ties laying out and about," you begin, grabbing hold of the green and gold accented leather bind novel of browning pages. "They all talk about the history of it, the perspectives of it, and some old spells that used to be done moderately back then, but have been taken out of a witch's curriculum in school. Oh, like this one goes on and on about the importance of it and why finding out who your Complement is before you meet them is deemed as bad luck. Like seeing the bride before the wedding, which actually originated from arranged marriages when— sorry, tangent. If I can just find the book..." As your voice trails, your eyes furrow in concentration to find the book amongst the pile you brought that would deem as very important.

Finally, you hold it up to and pat it, Jungkook raising an eyebrow and Jimin looking bemused at your inner workings being elicited through your rambles and tangents.

"This is where I stumbled upon something fruitful," you began. "It's a book that's anti-Complement. The author was actually a witch who thought his Complement was, and I quote, "vile and tremendously horrendous", so he composed this book that explains how to unknot the Complement tie."

"Nothing about cutting it?"

You smile as you open the book. "There's a whole chapter about it, but," as you flip open to it, the book in your hands bursts into bright blue flames illuminating your skin with a blue tint before it calms down, living proof that the book itself was cursed, either by the author or your mother's doing. "The book has been cursed and the most vital information you want means you're not the only one who is searching for a severance."

"Couldn't you just... cut it?" King Jimin chimes in and you shake your head.

"No, this witch said that cutting it would damage the blade and not the tie," you close the book to prevent the fire from getting anywhere. "The tie itself, when exposed, is simply a scarlet rope. Its material is very ethereal and even your finest sword cannot cut it in two."

"Brilliant," Jungkook says, defeatedly. He sucks in a deep breath before looking at you, eyes flickering up and down your form. "When will I hear from you again?"

Making a loud sound as you stack the books on top of each other, you look up at him and raise an eyebrow. "Again? You're expecting me to continue the search for an answer that I can't give you? This is all the information that I can gather from my mother's archive. I don't know what else you expect me to do."

"What the daughter of the most powerful witch of this kingdom can do, of course," he retorts, easily. It makes you scoff.

"I apologize, your grace, but I am not going through those extra lengths."

"For someone who adheres to formalities very often, you don't seem to be very intimidated by me. At least not enough to do what I say."

"Is your job as a king to be intimidating?"

It was that type of riposte that would have your head, an immediate escort to your death for even thinking that a cocky retort would come out of your mouth. If only if Jimin hadn't let out an amused snort, punishment would not have immediately be put off the table, but the irritation forming in the king's blood remains. He doesn't turn to his brother to hush him, but rather keeps a heavy stare at you, narrowed eyes into slits as a heavy warning— yet you stay grounded, raising an eyebrow at him.

"And you don't seem to know when to not speak your mind."

"With all due respect, King Jungkook, may I remind you I am here because you requested my services. I've given you what I can provide, free of charge. My mother has probably dealt with a customer who has wanted the same thing, and if the book was cursed, it's a heavy sign that it's not a wise path to follow."

King Jungkook inhales deeply, eyes staring at the hybrid who fears nothing under his gaze. He mentally curses to himself knowing very well that Circe was the most probable culprit of cursing her own books, for the sole reason of not wanting him to get his hands on vital information that would separate a Complement tie attached to her own daughter. Sighing, he makes a dismissive nod towards you, a finger tapping on his arm chair repeatedly. "Very well. Dismissed."

And without a word, you gather your things and leave, the same men escorting you away from the castle and the inconsiderate king.

Once your presence no longer lingered, Jungkook sinks down into his chair, letting his head fall against the fist of his arm that propped it up. Jimin clicks his tongue beside him.

"Now tell that was not who I thought that was," Jimin sings once the door had fully shut closed and it was just Jungkook and his brother of the neighboring kingdom.

"Your instincts are spot on, brother," Jungkook says with heavy sarcasm, shaking his head.

Jimin heartily laughs. "It doesn't take a Merlin to see that she's your Complement. It's quite obvious."

"Care to go more in depth?"

"Other than the fact that she's the only outsider you granted a visit at your castle, you're not so quick to throw her out either," he begins before tapping his finger on the table. "You also don't like looking her in the eye. You get tense when you do. Either you fear her or you fear getting close to her."

Jungkook raises an eyebrow in surprise at his brother's quick observation— it must be all the times he's observing human behavior in the mortal world.

"She's mentioned that her books derive from her mother's archives— is her mother...?"

"Her mother was the one that undid our Complement knot."

"Her mother was the infamous Circe, then?" Jimin marvels with his signature taunting smirk on his face. "Well, I'll be damned."

"You already are," Jungkook rolls his eyes.

"Your Complement is a hybrid— and not just a hybrid, Circe's daughter?" Jungkook didn't like that his own brother kept reminding him of who his Complement was, thus encouraging the fire of searching for a severance. "Despite the fact that she holds tremendous power, she seems very promising. You're not fond of her?"

"Jimin, you know—"

"Right, pardon me. You don't want her," Jimin inhales deeply, nodding.

"Jimin," Jungkook begins once again. "I can't have her as my Complement. I need her to find a spell to wither our tie."

"Is there another reason why you need to find such spell other than you're dreading that she's bound to you?"

"So that she could find real love and romance. She will not find it with me."

There was an unreadable look in Jimin's face that even his own brother could not decipher. It lingers for a moment before he makes the executive decision to stand up from the seat, knocking on the table with his pale knuckles. "I'm heading back to Merosa. May I make the suggestion that you take her to Sagewood?"

"Sagewood? Why in the heavens would I take her there?"

"If you want to cut the tie so badly, then I think it wouldn't be a very shabby place to start, no? After all, she only has access to such limited information— you're not being much help either. Besides, you both will most likely find something valuable there."

It was pruning day.

The plants you planted outside your windowsill in its respected pots looked green as ever, with some minor flaws sticking out. You walk outside with shears in hand, identifying the buds you'd snip off with love. You enjoy taking care of your plants, the only common denominator between this world and the mundane world that gave you a sense of normality.

Humming an old folk tune from the mundane world, you admire your plants, recalling that some of these plants were the ones your mother would plant back in the mundane world. As you snip off one of your greenery, you hear the faint sounds of neighs from afar, halting in front of your shop and creating audible commotion behind your back. You overhear your neighbors rush out of their respected buildings, having you grow curious by the second.

Raising an eyebrow, you turn around to find nothing but the king hopping off his trusty steed of ebony glory with a luscious mane, planting his feet flat onto the ground with ease while two other men follow his lead, staying a hearty distance from him. He meets your eyes immediately, ignoring that everyone around him are caught in a trance by his sudden appearance in the town.

"King Jungkook," you marvel with a smirk, ignoring the fact that your neighbors were staring in mixed awe and fear. "What a lovely surprise."

He approaches you, stepping onto the gravel, expressionless. "I request your stay at my castle."

The words don't process fast enough in your mind, a blank expression being your response, but even then, you couldn't help but to laugh, but it came out more like a baffled scoff. "I beg your pardon?"

"To make use of the castle's library," he fills in, a smirk painting his face. "We, too, have an archive for all things your curious, knowledgable mind may want to see. Thousands of collections over the centuries, compilations from notable figures. I'm giving you access to that information in search of the severance."

You gape at him, lowering your shears. The king takes this action with positivity as his smirk only grows for a second before he's back to his emotionless expression.

"I will have my men come by to escort you to the castle tomorrow morning at nine-hundred. Pack your things," he says with no confirmation from you. His passive command makes you blink while you watch him turn his shoulder.

Amidst his turn to head back to his source of transportation and the other men who stand in front of your property, you stop him, "really? And when have I agreed?"

His body comes to a full stop just a hearty amount of distance from you. "And you wouldn't?" He calmly states aloud. In a moment, he's turning his body back to completely face you, cocking his head slight. "Tell me, you're not at all curious about how to cut a Complement tie?"

"Why would I? I have no intention of doing so."

"So you'd want to stay bound to one person your whole life? When you meet your Complement, you want to be so attached to the point that being even just miles away from them tears you apart? Every second you do not see them is as if your heart is being shredded apart in layers. Finding out who your Complement is only ruins you in a way that is a hell disguised as a heaven," he says as if it were straight spitfire. There was remorse and dread in his voice that even you cannot decipher completely— as if the pain that courses through his vein is truly authentic.

"In the mundane world, it's different, no? Humans fall in love with who they want, when they want. Did you ever compare that to the Upper World where it is frowned upon to not be with your Complement?"

"They differ, yes," you say through gritted teeth.

"Are you not so curious as to how to sever the tie? To at least be one of the first witches in centuries to hold great knowledge of a severance? That maybe you would one day change your intentions to cut your tie?"

You stay silent, placing your shears down as you stare at him attentively. Sure, you were curious, but your curiosity grew more prevalent seeing how the king was doing so much as to using a rhetoric tactic to ease your answer into a yes. And oddly enough, it was working.

"Besides... free stay, breakfast— in the castle? Surrounded by all things good and gold?"

Letting out a scoff, you narrow your eyes at him. "Is that your way of paying me for my services? A bed and breakfast at the castle? A week to pretend I'm royalty?" Challenge dripped from your tone evidently, but while the others around you and nearly the whole kingdom all feared the king's presence, you didn't share the same feeling. After all, this was the king asking for your services.

And suddenly, his expression changes, one of seriousness turned into dry amusement as he lets out a deep laugh bellowing from his stomach. "No, I'm offended that you may think I'm that cheap," he states as you raise an eyebrow, stabbing your shears, sharp point down into the window sill just right behind your plants. "I may have taken advantage of your services before, forgetting my place as a client to you. For that, I apologize sincerely. I am offering pounds of gold to you in exchange that you continue your search to cut a tie."

"Pounds of gold?"

"I notice that you live in your shop," he speaks of apparentness, making your cheeks go red as he turns his gaze to look at the shop behind you, a place you vaguely remember growing up in. "After your mother died, you decided to turn your home into a shop? Selling your services?" In that moment, you freeze only slight, caught off guard by how easily he put two and two together, you merely forgetting that he was an "acquaintance" with your mother— of course, he knew of this property before you probably were born.

"If the pounds of gold are not enough, I would be glad to make your stay at the castle permanent after you've found the severance."

You raise your eyebrows at his offer, never missing the way his lips quirked upwards for a ghostly second when he sees he's appealing you in the right direction.

"A permanent stay at your castle? As what? Your mistress? A maid?"

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Of course not. Your mother would find a way to resurrect herself to rid of my existence if she found out that I made you, her daughter, a mistress. Let alone a maid."

"You will be staying at my castle free of charge. And while I know this shop has been dear to your mother— dear to you, I am also willing to put a new location in the center of Sapphire Hill for your services on the table. Closer to the castle and in the heart of Frawen. That is, only if you have a mind to accept my proposal."

Inhaling sharply, you both stare at each other in silence as your mind juggles and he patiently awaits your answer, his body still as a stone, probably cold as one too. There was no other ulterior option to choose from— after all, why would you decline such a proposal? You were just as curious about the severance as he was, wondering why your mother never wanted to stray close to that path and why she has never mentioned about it before. And perhaps, you too could also cut your tie before you ever get to find your Complement if you ever came down to it.

However, despite his generous offers for a mere severance, there was a deep feeling in your stomach that didn't sit very well with you, one that was silently yearning you to not accept. It felt alarmingly unnatural. Just as unnatural as interacting with the king up close three times in a month.

"Alright," you sigh, defeatedly, grabbing your shears from the wood and returning to pruning day. "You've appealed to me."

"Wonderful," he acknowledges, a single celebratory nod coming your way before he turns around to head back on his steed. "I will have people to escort you tomorrow. Nine-hundred."

"Quite a castle," you announce, eyes boggling at the interior design of the castle you never thought you'd see in person. Hell, you didn't think you'd ever get to see it closer than it being on top of the hill until just previously.

The halls were a fair color accented with alluring gold, intricate designs resembling a brush stroke, as if the gold were painted free-handedly, yet a symmetry being maintained. Crimson rugs, drapes, furniture dabble the expense of the hallway itself, and ebony statues and sculptures stare back at you broodingly. Two broad statues of fairies introduce you on either side of the entrance, facing each other with conch shells held to their mouths.

Selene purrs in your arms, probably just as dazzled at the structure as you are. "I know, baby, I know," you mutter under your breath as your pace slows along the red carpet.

"___." The voice announcing your name echoes throughout the vast hallway, pulling you out of your thoughts and daydreams as you peer towards the grandiose staircase ahead, finding a familiar figure in red with accenting white tassels walk down the steps, slowly and gracefully.

Selene suddenly paws out of your grasp to be let go of, you lowering her down to the floor carefully as you know that she likes to roam around new and foreign areas by herself.

"Your grace," you acknowledge, pacing towards him to meet him in the middle, eyes watching Selene trot along the scarlet carpet just in front of you, only to realize that she made her independent way to the king. You arch an eyebrow when Jungkook stops his footing altogether, both of you noticing Selene taking a liking into him, purring against his leg and her tail curling around his calf, making elegant circles around him in adoration. "I see Selene likes you."

Jungkook coughs before removing his eyes from the feline to meet yours. "You have a cat."

"I do," you nod. "Is she not allowed in the castle?"

"I'll make the exception," Jungkook swallows as Selene rubs her cheek against his leg. You mentally thank Selene for kissing his arse, knowing that Jungkook might have gone soft for your feline friend immediately and discarded the direct thought of kicking her out.

"I was given her a couple years back."

"Were you?"

You hum in response. "Given to me as a gift for my birthday. I named her after selenite, one of my favorite crystals."

"As long as she doesn't get into anyone's way, your feline company is welcome. However, if she were to be causing mischief, do not be blowed if she is in your soup," the king warns as he turns around, a hand motioning you to trail behind him, but the whole situation nearly made you snort out loud. Was that humour in his voice?

Following him, you scoop Selene with a hand as you caught up to her, cutting her curiosity trip short as you did not want to have her disappear and find her as your dinner, despite King Jungkook's warning sounding slightly sarcastic. His foot steps climbing up the stairs echo, his boots emphasizing his steps as you follow a few steps behind him, your flats being light-sounded from underneath you.

The Upper World resembled a victorian age from the mundane world. As much as you missed your tennis shoes and trousers, the Upper World called for bell-shaped dresses, the air-sucking corsets, and uncomfortable shoes that hurt your back if standing for too long.

As King Jungkook walks down the spacious hall with such glorious designs, you notice that there were two beautiful women in gray high neck dresses, eggshell aprons wrapped around their waist standing on the side with head lowered. Despite their dull attire, their appearance is what caught your eye.

The one on the right had skin of the bluest topaz with complementing navy hair tied up into a sleek bun. If she had looked up earlier, you would admire her sunshine eyes that made her look so kind. The on the left had contrasting mauve skin and emerald hair flowing down her shoulders. She wore a headband to keep her hair out of her face.

Nymphs.

"Cricket, Calla," the king's voice ruined the solace of the hallway, the snap of both ethereal beings' heads making direct eye contact with King Jungkook, you catching the hazel eyes of the mauve skinned beauty for a split second before she keeps steady eye contact with the person she serves.

"They will be serving you throughout your stay," he states towards you, a nod cueing the two nymphs accordingly.

"Good morning, ___. I am Calla," the topaz nymph speaks first, bowing her head as you respectfully did the same.

"And I, Cricket," her partner speaks, bowing as well.

"It is lovely to meet you both, Calla and Cricket," you speak with a kind tone as they give the smallest of shy smiles.

"Aster and Fickle are unloading the carriages. They will be up to bring her belongings in any minute. You may start unpacking—"

"Oh no, that's not necessary," you intervene. The king sends you a glare for interrupting him, but daringly, you roll your eyes at him. "Cricket, Calla, just have Aster and Fickle leave my luggages on my bed. I didn't pack heavy, so it's alright. I'd prefer if I unpack myself."

"As you wish," Cricket and Calla say in unison before King Jungkook gives one last asserting, yet hesitating nod, turning his shoulder to continue walking down the hall.

"Come. I will show you the library," he orders, having you share one last look at the beautiful nymphs who both smile at you. In that moment, you give them a smile that you hoped would make them feel safe— as if you all have been friends before. As you tear your eyes away, you trot up to the king's pace, Selene being safe in your arms as you mentally curse the king for having long legs.

Walking for nearly a minute or two, you didn't realize he had stopped in front of large double doors, black wood engraved with the exact designs you recall in the main entrance, intriguing you with every bit. You blink for a nanosecond until you hear the door unlock and open, having to blink once more when you see that the king was only a few feet away from the immense opening, arms held behind his back as the door widened.

"Did you do that?" You question aloud. It sounded very mundane of you— as if you had not seen anything weirder in the Upper World.

"Yes," he speaks, raising an eyebrow at you as you wait for the doors to open fully. "I am a Pureblood, aren't I?"

His reminder made you realize that you did indeed forget that Purebloods hold some sort of power. It was only the three kings who held such powers, being why they were named the most powerful trio over centuries to live. Unsure why, you didn't take the King of Frawen to hold telekinesis, if anything.

The doors finally stop opening, two grand doors coming to a halt on either side of the opening and creating an entrance to a room that already has your mouth hung open.

"This is the library," he speaks, taking a step in first. "All of Frawen's greatest works over the centuries are all kept in here."

It was not the immense room that was its own castle itself, but it was the giant collections, endless spines of literature and word composition that was tempting you to swallow all of the knowledge up from them.

"These are the collections of Edgar Allen Poe," you observe, remembering that you had to read one of his famous works in your mundane junior high, the eerie components of his pieces standing out to you enough that you recall his name. "The Upper World holds mortal works?"

"Just the finer ones. Homer, Machiavelli, the Brontë sisters, Cordelia Maine—"

You widen your eyes. "No way. Cordelia Maine? You have her works, too?"

"Of course," he laughs at your never-ending bafflement. "She might be famous to you mortals, but her roots don't stray away from Frawen."

"Mortals," you repeat, catching his word that he knowingly categorizes you. It makes you blink up at him, more concerned why you weren't feeling as uneasy as you should that the king who stands in front of you and has brought you inside his castle knows you're the product against the Upper World law. "Dare I ask how you know this?"

The king smirks at you, probably bemused at how you weren't exactly trembling in your boots, but you probably have a spell prepared at the tip of your tongue. "Do you forget that I can smell your blood? You reek of mortals."

Arching an eyebrow at him, you narrow your eyes just slight. "Should I be worried?"

He smirks. "That I hold such knowledge? No, or else I would have no way to find a severance now, would I?" His rhetorical question is followed with a quirk of his eyebrow, a bemused smile illuminated from the indirect sun from the window. "Besides, your mother and I were acquaintances. I am well aware of your father and while I have never met him, I do know that your mother loved him, even if they were worlds apart."

Not saying another word, you smile. One that lingers on your face for a bit, one that is shared between you and the king, one that is as if you two have created some sort of connection by this secret he finds indifference to.

However, you do not let the smile linger for too long, for you cannot trust anyone so easily, no matter if your heart is oddly beating out of your chest and there is an odd stir in your stomach when his eyes remain on your form for a moment as if he is trying to study you and your every feature.

You disregard it though, as if a chip on your shoulder, or a hair in your face when he leads you back to your room from the grand library, claiming he has work to finish.

Later that afternoon, you were in the midst of unpacking your luggages when Calla and Cricket make an appearance into your room. They were there to escort you to lunch, but you told them to give you a few minutes to organize your things, encouraging them to wait in your room as you did so.

"Are you his betrothed?"

The sudden question makes you stumble, nearly dropping the books in your hand that you deemed most viable to bring to this trip. "Sorry?" You laugh, looking at them with a sheepish smile. A harmless question, but a stretch to inquire.

"Isn't that why he's having you stay here at the castle?" Cricket asks, keeping her hands intertwined in front of her as they both watch you organize your knick-knacks of books and crystals and Selene's toys.

"Oh to the heavens, no," you laugh, Cricket furrowing her eyebrows and cocking her head to the side, wondering why your peculiar stay at the castle isn't for that singular motive. "I'm here for an entirely different reason."

Calla blinks blankly, her long, blue lashes making it obvious. "Our king doesn't usually like to keep guests overnight— let alone indefinitely."

Placing your books onto the antique dresser, you raise an eyebrow at them. "Is that right?"

"We thought, perhaps, this was his attempt in courting you," Cricket says, rather timidly. "After all, you're very beautiful."

The compliment brings red to your cheeks. "You're just saying that—"

"But, 'tis true," Calla nods. "We're nymphs—"

"We can't lie—"

"We thought that he may have found love again—"

"We would be surprised if he didn't find you, at the very least, beautiful—"

"Our king doesn't open a room for just anyone, since he's very..."

"Closed off."

They jump off their sentences swiftly, as if a ball ricocheted against the walls in great speed and force. It intrigues you as you furrow your eyebrows, more interested in the last part they had to say. "Closed off? Why is that?"

Cricket and Calla look at each other before bringing their head down. "Have you not heard of his past?" You shake your head before Calla sighs and begins again. "Our king is the most kind, most fair— but it does not redirect the light away from his past—"

"Lost the people most close to him. Lost his mind along the way, and perhaps, most tragically, lost his soul. It began with Dawn and then his best friend who happened to be his general, and then his parents, and so on. They are frightened of him."

You furrow your eyebrows. "Who's they?"

"All of Frawen. Even those in the mundane world have heard of his story," Cricket answers.

"Frawen respects our king, if anything. However, that respect derives from fear. I'm afraid that the people in this castle are the only people who love him, who see the better in him."

"So I see it's been a lonely castle on this hill," you nod in understanding. "I won't bombard you both with anymore questions. You both are free to leave, I will meet you both in the dining room."

"Are you sure, my lady?"

"I'm sure. Please, I do not want to be a burden to you both."

The nymphs giggle. "We assure you that you are not. It's rather refreshing to tend to someone other than the king and his brothers."

"You both have been very kind. I will see you both there."

"And my lady," Cricket speaks. "We wish you a wonderful stay."

"Jungkook," Circe acknowledges his presence in a blink of an eye the minute he makes a step onto the property that was under an invisibility spell for nearly a decade, only to have it reappear as if it didn't disappear in the first place. "Here to welcome me back?"

The king lowly laughs, not taking another step onto the property as Circe turns around from watering her deep red rose bushes planted right outside. "I was surprised to hear that you made a foolish decision to move to the mundane world."

Circe ticks her tongue, shaking her head at how his prejudice against the humans stain his tone. "I don't believe it was foolish, dear Jungkook."

"Is that what you tell the Counsel?"

Circe lets out an amused sound, maneuvering around her bushes. "The Counsel can believe what they want, but they hold nothing against me. By law, I am allowed to be here and to be there. I may be a witch, aging like a mere mortal, but I still uphold powers strong enough to burn them alive before they can even think of crossing me."

"I have no doubt," Jungkook smirks. "But by law, is your daughter allowed to be here?"

Circe pauses her watering, hose in hand halting with the water continuously drenching a part of the rose bush as she raises an eyebrow. "Why are you here, Jungkook?"

"I heard she attends Ember Academy now. Enrolled as a full-fledged witch. I've come bearing a gift for her."

"A gift?"

"Call it a welcome back gift," he speaks with an anticipating tone right before he walks over to his horse of where a woven basket was attached to the saddle. Circe remains where she stands, watching him carefully as he walks towards her before she senses something, one that makes her hair stand on her arms. As he nears, Circe peeks into the basket, only to have her jaw drop as she sees that it is a kitten.

A kitten of midnight beauty, sleeping soundly in its basket of blankets.

Circe, who could not help it at all, laughs. Soft laughter rumbles through her throat as she coos at the creature, reaching her hands out to take the basket in her hands. "And your arrival has nothing to do with the fact that today is her birthday?"

"Is that today?" Jungkook ponders aloud as Circe laughs, sneaking a smirk on his face before she strokes a finger on the kitten's head carefully and gently. She can tell that he remembers, and that the years leading up to now, he always have.

Sighing, Circe's smile fades as she looks up at Jungkook, tired eyes and all. "I must tell you, Jungkook."

He raises an eyebrow at her.

"I've grown ill," she begins, retracting her finger from the kitten to hold the basket with two hands. "I have been for awhile now and I can feel my end nearing. I trust to believe that you will protect her."

Jungkook blinks a couple times, the odd construct of having someone who has been around for longer than he has tell him explicitly that their end is inevitable and that it was nearing quite sooner than he expected was worth a double take and a few seconds to digest.

"You may not want to stay tied to her, but I trust you enough to uphold her secret. And to protect her when needed," the kitten purrs meekly in the basket, making Circe glance at it for a mere moment before meeting the concerned eyes of Jungkook with matching knitted eyebrows. "Believe that I am not entrusting you with her life, but that the feeling in your heart of wanting to protect her is inevitable. No matter if the knot remains untied."

He opens his mouth, but the words he could not formulate were taken away quickly by Circe's chuckle, waving him off.

"I know what you'll say," she raises an eyebrow, lips curling and eyes creating crescents. "But if anything happens in the future, must you know you have my blessing."

"Circe," he begins.

"She'll appreciate this kitten," Circe interrupts, smiling at how the kitten inhaled and exhaled, curling in its ball with comfort of the soft fleece blankets. "I'm sure you don't want her to know it came from you, perhaps?"

There is a knowing look that the two share, one of pure guise. "May it be our little secret."

"Among thousands," Circe nods, one in which Jungkook does the same. "Will this be the last time we meet?"

"I would hope not."

"Then I bid you farewell, either for now or forever," Circe smiles, a weak curl of her lips, an evident form that made Jungkook realize that she looked much older than before— the gray hairs, her smile lines and forehead wrinkles. It all reminded Jungkook that she is, in fact, a pure mortal, withering faster than most. It scares him, but it makes him curious as to her motive despite him knowing that she did it out of love.

As he leaves the ebony kitten in Circe's hands to give to her daughter's possession, he departs her property with the lingering thought that maybe— perhaps people really do scary things out of love.

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sabraeal · 3 years

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All That Remains, Chapter 8: The Flower Garden of the Woman Who Could Conjure [Part 5]

[Read on AO3]

Obiyukiweek 2021, Day 3: Strength Upright: Compassion, Courage, Self-Control Reversed: Weakness, Doubt, Discord

Once upon a time, a troll makes a mirror.

Is that not how we started this story, so long ago? How so many start: a vile creature forges an object. Who and what change in the telling; a troll makes a mirror, a god conjures a box, knowledge grows in a garden. In the end, it is all the same: what is once contained is opened, unwitting. Or lost, foolishly, in a heart so cold and cruel that it becomes bent to another purpose entirely.

But that is merely an allegory, a fiction composed to cover the raw edges we leave when we rub against each other. For that is the truth, is it not? There is no fell creature, no capricious and omnipotent beings to blame for our misery. There is only us, carving our place in our story by smoothing pieces off another. A snow queen is not made from frost and cold but by the blades of others, slicing slivers from her flesh until only ice remains.

That is the truth we cannot bear: the only monsters we face are the ones we have made. The only poisons we drink are those human hands have brewed.

And it starts like this, always: a girl in a garden, remembering the image of a rose, and wondering, how could I have I forgotten?

“You were quiet at dinner tonight.” Shirayuki hasn’t been at court long-- or rather, in court, privy to all its secret signals and capricious undercurrents-- but she knows that this is as close to an “are you all right?” as Haki can come. If confrontation is only allowed the glint of a knife, affection is stifled to a hint of warmth, a fire made in a room one is forbidden to venture. “I hope that the meal agreed with you.”

A flash of pharmacy white flutters at the corner of her vision, frustratingly out of reach. It’s been so long since she’s been there, since she’s thought of anything but silverware and schottische; when she tries it’s like a hundred voices shouting at once, each demanding to be heard. Just like being at Lilias, heads bent over a knotty problem--

“Shirayuki.” The consort does not crouch; it’s best, Lady Mihoko often remind her, to pretend one has no anatomy beneath the waist. But Haki does perch on a cushioned stool, her brows drawn tight over the elegant line of her nose. “You are not...indisposed, I hope?”

A solid shake dispels the fog mired around her. “What? Oh, no! I only...” It would be a mistake to speak of loam between her fingers, of the satisfaction of hearing a pod snap from its stalk. “I didn’t have much to say with my, erm, conversational partners.”

Royal brows raise to stunned arches. “Is that so? I would have thought you’d find much in common with Lord Kazunori and Lord Seiichii.”

They had both been older men, southern lords drawn to court for Seiran’s summit. Kind enough, but they spoke to her as they would their own daughters, which is to say: warmly, but brief. Not of any topics that one might sink their teeth into, lest it leaving lines around her mouth.

“I think they were more interested in talking to each other than to me,” she admits. In part because of her sex, and in part because-- well, her body may have been in that chair, obscuring the twining gods and goddess painted across it, but her mind had been a wing away, wondering if it was yet time to harvest the roku berries, or whether this year’s crop of apprentices knew akegi from yura shigure. “It seems there’s much to discuss before they all meet for, ah...discussion.”

Haki hands her a rueful smile. “There always is.” With a sigh, she sweeps to standing, as statuesque as any marble in Wistal’s halls. “Well, I suppose there’s nothing for it. I’ll have to ask the majordomo to find you some more scintillating seatmates tomorrow.”

“Ah..!” Tomorrow. Never had a day seemed so far away, so much more than a handful of hours between dawn and dusk. At Lilias, the nights had wavered between seasons, some so short she hardly slept between sun set and rise; and others so long that she woke in darkness, only to leave the lab in the same. But still, none seemed so long as this, and for no reason at all.

“Is something wrong?” Haki turns to her again, concern rumpling the curved lines of her mouth. “Do you have plans...?”

“No!” Shirayuki rushes to assure her. “It’s only...you mentioned dinner, and suddenly I felt so...”

“Weary?” Haki offers, when she won’t. Her eyes soften with mouth to match, smile turning her from heavenly to beatific. “I’m not surprised. You have been hard at work these last few months.”

And hardly anything to show for it, in Lady Mihoko’s learned opinion. Shirayuki bites back a groan. She would be sixty before that woman found her approaching passable, and even then, she still wouldn’t be good enough for a prince’s wife. Not when his children might have some chance, no matter how slim, of seating their sullied bloodline on the throne of Clarines.

“Perhaps you have earned a break.” Shirayuki blinks, staring up into the consort’s glowing face. “A private dinner seems in order. A night of no pressure of expectation.”

It sounds too good to be true. “Oh, no! I couldn’t--”

“Give me but a moment.” Haki hesitates at the door to her boudoir, lips lifted in an impish grin. “Perhaps my good brother might find himself available as well?”

Her mouth snaps shut. It’s been ages since she saw Zen, just the two of them. He came to dinner rarely-- understandable, with the summit only weeks away, and entirely under his purview, despite Seiran’s tacit position as host-- and where he went, Mitsuhide and Kiki went too. Haki had been her closest companion these past few weeks, the only friendly face, but Shirayuki longed for someone who didn’t look at her and see a princess, but--

Nervous energy courses through her, jolting her to her feet. Her hands itch, wanting for something to do, and with no plants to hand, they land upon the package on the receiving table. It’s wrapped in humble brown paper, folds clean and crisp, twine tightly tied. Haki’s medication, she realizes, dropping it from her numb hands. Made in the pharmacy. There’s a note on top-- instructions. She’d recognize them anywhere; after all, she’d written more than a few of them herself.

It’s curiosity that makes her pluck it from where it sits. It’s been ages since she’s been in the lab, but her knowledge hasn’t faded; there’s no harm in seeing whether there are any mistakes. An apprentice could have made this, after all. The dose does, as Garack was so fond of saying, make the poison.

She flips open the card, already flushed with the thought of being useful, but--

It’s not some apprentice’s writing at all. Oh no, she knows this spidery scrawl all too well. It was on every jar at her bench, every treatise she read late into the night.

It’s Ryuu’s.

Ignorance is bliss, they say. Always with a laugh, but stewing beneath it is envy and longing in equal measure. A pining for times past, for a childhood never quite as innocent as we remember.

For that is what we miss: innocence. Not the not-knowing, but state of not needing to know. The trust we felt towards those who always knew in our stead, who kept us safe from the dangers that pressed in around us. The ones who protected us with little lies; the small pauses to omit what might scare us, the careful editing to make our worlds the giddy fantasy we dreamed.

But there comes a day where all children must grow up. There is a day we must know these things for ourselves, so that we may see the world with clear eyes. For even innocence can be a cage, should some other hand try to lock you within it.

Ignorance is bliss, they say, but oh, only if they can keep you from knowing what it is you do not know.

May I ask you a question? the little girl asks, her gaze no longer on the garden, but the horizon beyond. It is bent in her vision, the glass made in such a way that each diamond blows out the edges, warping the world around it. She had never noticed when she looked only at the garden so near to it, but now...

Now the imperfection is all she can see.

Anything, the sorceress replies, her fingers wrapping around the caps of her shoulders. They’re cold, as cold as the glass beneath her palms.

The girl looks at their reflection, at the way the wave of the glass make those fingers bleed into talons. Where have the roses gone?

Shirayuki’s hands tremble, her eyes tracing every last loop, every hurried curve. “I didn’t...”

Haki peers around the jamb, letter folded in her hand. “Did you say something, my dear?”

This is the closest she’s been to Ryuu in months; even from where she holds it, the scene of lavender and akegi shigure waft from its paper. Not scented, not on purpose, but just from being left in a desk’s cubbyhole with his hastily tidied samples. His parchment smelt the same in Lilias, fragrant as the hothouses themselves.

Her chest can hardly contain her breath. “I didn’t realize that Ryuu was overseeing your treatment.”

A shadow flickers over the sorceress’s face, her grip painful for but a moment before she is her usual smiling self. A moment that could have been imagined, if only the girl was so sure it was not.

Roses? the sorceress asks airily. I’ve never grown any roses.

“Excuse me?”

“It only makes sense,” Shirayuki hurries to add, placing the card back atop the package. “He’s taken over for Chief Garack, and she always oversaw the royal--”

“Shirayuki.” Her name is firm from Haki’s lips, just shy of a scold. “I’m quite sorry but...who are you talking about?”

So many tales speak of trust as a blade, one that may be used to cut, that breaks when forged from brittle iron. A weapon, wielded and forgotten on the battlefield once the story is done.

But you and I know better: trust is a spell, woven to protect. It is a shield, unseen but always felt; sense by faith and not by fingers. And when it wavers, it does not break, does not shatter like a blade upon a stone; no, nothing so dramatic as that. Instead, it frays, unwoven one thread at a time, unnoticed until--

Until the hole can no longer be ignored.

She doesn’t leave the consort’s chambers meaning to break her curfew; oh no, when the door closes behind her, Shirayuki has every intention to head straight to her own. Her feet drag beneath her, weary from contorting herself into a mold that barely fits. There’s nothing she’d like more than to divest herself of all these courtly trappings and pass effortlessly into oblivion.

But she turns a corner, her mental map of the palace resolving, and she realizes: in one direction is her room, and in the other, the pharmacy. It’s late, but Ryuu would still be there, committing his last-minute thoughts to page while the offices emptied around him. She misses him, a longing so intense it aches.

It would only be a short visit. If Izana brought her before him in the morning, trying to act as both judge and jury-- well, Ryuu would be her physician, once she and Zen finally managed to make it down the aisle hand-in-hand. It only made sense to keep a cordial relationship with the man who would bear the next branch of the Wisteria tree into the world.

And if she missed him, the boy who straddled the line of friend and brother and son both-- there was no need to explain that to the king. It wasn’t as if Izana made a habit of confessing his ulterior motives to her. Though strangely, she thought he might understand that better than anyone.

Or all but one. And he...

Well, if there was a single person who might know where he went besides her, her feet were carrying her to him now/.

Were you to ask the girl, she would say she had not chosen night on purpose. The sorceress had housed her, fed her, loved her in her way; even with the image of the rose burned behind her eyes, she trusted her still, in the desperate way one does when one knows they should not, but cannot bear to contemplate why.

Opportunity chooses for her; the late afternoon sun burns hot, and when they finish their dinner, the sorceress excuses herself to lay down in the dark, to merely rest her eyes-- and does not wake, not even when the door creaks as the girl slips around it. The moon guides her steps when she walks into the garden, bright as the day itself, but she does not need it: her feet carrying her better than memory could.

There is one there, just as there was this morning: a petal, pink and sweet, fragrance so familiar she knew it even without sight.

Come out, she murmurs, digging her hands into the earth. Come out my lovely, my dear. I have been searching just for you.

A tendril spirals up from the ground, tentative. It flips and flaps, and oh, she is too shocked, too awed to help it. Even still, it finds her, wrapping around her finger, and with a single drop of blood the bush emerges, whole and dirt-smeared, from the soil.

What, it murmurs, impatience tinging its words, took you so long?

In the day, the pharmacy is all rush and chaos: apprentices burning tinctures and ushering patients to their rooms; masters emptying drawers as soon as they are filled, only for other herbalists to hurry to replace them. Guards arrive with injuries and nobles with ailments, no moment ever dull while the doors are open.

But at this hour, when the lords and ladies are all tucked in their beds-- or are at least pretending to be-- and the work is done, the pharmacy sleeps. There is no herbalist at the front desk, only the push bell Ryuu despised when she was his apprentice, since it always meant she would be pulled away from him or he away from his project.

A necessary nuisance, he called it once, and Obi had laughed. Just like me, eh, Miss?

She no longer remembers what she said-- it was early enough when he was one still, though she’d like to think she was too kind to say it-- but now she wishes, even if just for a moment, that she could tell him how much of a gift he was to her. How much he had made tedium bearable, even when she hadn’t known it for what it was.

Instead she bites her lips, rubbing at the ache in her breast. It’s hardly the first time she’s forgotten to say what matters, but-- but this won’t be her last chance. Obi might be away now, but he will be found, and she will tell him...

Everything. Every last thought she had since the moment they last spoke; her apologies and her worries, her failures and her triumphs. Because Obi hearing them-- that’s what makes them real.

Her hand wraps around the third door’s knob by habit; even now she expects to open it and see her projects spilled across her desk, to see a curtain closed beneath the other, and a window open between them. To see it waiting for her the way her heart waits for them, empty and waiting to be filled.

But there’s nothing of them there anymore. Nothing besides memories that no longer fit over the space it has become.

Her feet carry her onward, down to the last room, a sliver of light slipping across the hall where it’s been left ajar. She still expects to see a curled mass of blonde hair bent over the desk, long tables sprawled with books and half-finished studies, a bottle of roka medicinally sitting in the corner. But instead--

Instead it is a dark one, a riotous shrubbery of walnut and teak in desperate need of pruning. That had been her job in Lilias, along with Yuzuri’s helpful hands, but is seems no one here has yet talked the Chief Herbalist to task.

Give it a few years, Garack would tell her, and he’ll have herbalists as eager to get into his hair as you three were with me.

She leans against the jamb, a sigh slipping past where her heart clogs her throat. Ryuu had once fit beneath a desk half this size, and now he towers over it even seated, looking more and more like Shidan with each passing day, a man overgrown by time and deadlines.

“Ryuu.” It’s a palpable hit when their eyes meet. Everything else about him might change, but that gaze, so wide and thoughtful-- that never does.

Until now. One moment they spark, a fire lit behind blue glass, and the next...

It gutters, his gaze slipping away.

“Shirayuki.” His voice is so much deeper than in her memory, so much older. And colder too. “Excuse me, Lady Shirayuki. Is there something you need?”

“No.” She clings to the doorway, too aware of how fine her dress is, of how little it belongs in this place, his sanctum sanctorum. How little she belong here, now. “I saw a card you wrote to the consort, and I...wanted to see you.”

“A card?” His eyebrows twitch; she can no longer tell if it’s in surprise or confusion, not on this stranger’s face. “Ah. The powder for her migraines. Did you want some as well?”

“No, I’m-- I’m well.” It feels like a lie, even as she says it. It wouldn’t have, only hours ago. “I just...I’m here for you.”

His knuckles blanch where he grips his pencil. “Well, you’ve seen me. I trust you know your way out.”

You’re too late, too late, the roses say, their sing-song jangling in her ears. I’ve been hidden away for so long, and even now I cannot find him. The betrayal in their voice is thick when they ask, How could you forget us, your flower and your boy, when we have always grown together?

“Ryuu.” It leaves her lips cracked, broken; her mouth no longer knows how to form the shape that calls to him. “I know it’s been...a while, but please don’t think that I didn’t want to-- that I wasn’t thinking about you. I just...”

His pencil pauses on the page, but he does not speak. He just looks at her, the way he would at a stranger, and this room is suddenly a desert and ocean both, too far and deep to go by foot alone.

Still, there is nothing she will not brave, not for him. “It was hard to come,” she admits. “I’m not allowed in the gardens, and I’m not allowed to take patients. Coming here, watching everyone working the way I always have...”

It would have been like watching someone eat a feast while she was starving.

His eyes soften, even if they don’t precisely thaw. “I know that you’re marrying the prince, and that you don’t have time for m--” his lips press tight-- “this. I’m not upset because you’ve set your career aside.”

“But you are...” Her words limp as she says them, wounded fawns searching of an elusive mother. “You are upset.”

His hands flex as he places them on the wood, utterly silent. “I knew...” he breathes, so harsh it scrapes her own throat too. “I knew you’d have to give things up--important things. But...”

Ryuu had always spoken slowly, thoughtfully. But still, these moments when he meant what he said, when he composed rather than conversed-- it had never taken him to long to tell her what he meant. He trusted her, knew that even if his words came out garbled or his message was lost in a sea of ellipses, she would salvage it, gluing it back together with his intention.

So when he sits silent, it wounds her almost as much as his words.

At last his gaze lifts again from his work, but the glare he fixes on her-- “But I never thought you’d let one of them be Obi.”

Her mouth works, but the well from which she draws her reason is empty, leaving only pain in its wake.

“I didn’t...I didn’t let him leave,” she murmurs, more wind than whisper. “He never told me he was going. He just left without even...”

Saying goodbye. As if all these years had meant nothing at all.

“There’s a guardsman,” she says instead, her voice trembling toward something approaching even. “He said he saw Obi leave with--” a woman-- “someone.”

Ryuu grunts.

“He ran off with Torou, once.” She wants the words to come easy, but each one emerges from her trembling, the way her fingers are against her skirts. “On the way back from Tanbarun. That’s...that’s probably what this is. An old friend that needs help, and then he’ll come right back--.”

“He won’t.”

Each breath is a stab, deep in her chest. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.” He stands; a production with how much of him there is now. Cautiously, his hand extends, a fist hovering over the knotted wood of his desk.

It takes all her courage to take the first step, and all of it again to take the next. On and on until she’s crossed the room, hand outstretched, quivering beneath his own.

His palm opens, and into hers falls...a seed. Tiny. Blue. As clear as glass.

“An orbia seed?” Shirayuki lifts it up to the light, the plumule a hazy bead nestled in its luminous cotyledon. It’s impossible to tell by sight, but still, she’s sure-- it would germinate, if she planted it. “I was collecting these before we left.”

“I know.”

“It’s funny,” she murmurs, a smile lifting her mouth. “I never did find a blue one.”

“I know.” His explanation comes in fits and starts, a path never worn in the telling. “I had one. I gave it to Obi.”

“You...?” The thought catches in the light, just like the seed between her fingers. “Oh. Oh. But...” Her mouth curls, a silent question: why?

“I don’t know. I thought he might...” Ryuu’s shoulders twitch, as narrow as Obi’s when he first blew in with the wind. Before he settled into the man he became. “When he was ready...”

Of course. Her hand closes tight around the seed. Obi had what she needed all along. And she’d never known, not until...

Not until he was gone. “Where--?”

“I found it on my desk.” Ryuu’s fingers flex, falling by his side. “The morning after he left.”

Where did he go? the little girl asks, desperation choking her as surely as her tears. Where can I find him?

How should I know? the roses reply, thorns in their words as well as their stems. You are the one who left me buried under the ground. How could I watch him when you let us be trapped together?

“Did you...” Her mouth works, cutting itself against her question. “Did you tell Zen’s men, when they came? Do they know that he...?”

Said goodbye, she cannot say, to someone at least.

“No.” Ryuu blinks, his eyes as round and innocent and blue as ever. “They never did. Come by I mean.”

This is not the first time we have spoken of betrayal, is it? Of the wound that never heals, the jagged cut that scabs over only to be ripped open anew. The injury that teaches one to be wary, lest one be inflicted again.

But that is only after the wound is made. When it is first done...

Well, it is strange how long a heart can bear a blade through it without ever feeling the killing stroke.

“You are thinking,” Haruka remarks, with no small amount of disapproval. “I can tell.”

Shirayuki blinks down at her place setting, expecting to see broth dripped across the tablecloth, or perhaps the edge of her sleeve dipped in yolk, maybe even her tea dribbling over the edge of her cup--

But there is nothing. The white linen is pristine beneath her gold-rimmed plate, her sleeves and elbows tucked up and off the table, and if anything, her beverages of choice are picturesque in their vessels, juice beading with moisture and tea gently steaming. “What am I doing wrong?”

It, historically, has been the wrong question to ask the marquis, sure to send him into a silent huff that will stretch from first course to fifth, disapproval deepening with each sorbet. In his vaunted opinion, the fact her inexperience might cause her to trespass the unspoken rules of good manners is bad enough, but to not know precisely when and how it was done-- now that was truly unforgivable.

However, today he merely settles back in his seat, rubbing his fingers against the cloth tucked over his lap, and fixes her with his unerring gaze. She doesn’t shrink beneath it; oh no, instead something in her chest shifts, almost as if-- as if it grows.

His lips twitch, just the slightest upward tremor. “Nothing.”

Her mouth opens, then closes, stymied. “Then how did you know?”

A single, noble arch lifts. “Because you have never once stopped.”

It is to the tiger-lily the little girl turns, after the roses. They are a pompous flower, no doubt, as proud and self-important as any big cat, but despite their bluster, they are honest. The noblest flower in this garden, hearty and constant, and though they sniff when she kneels down upon their bed, dirtying her hem, they listen.

Have you seen him? she asks, heart lodged tight in her throat. Have you seen my precious boy?

“So what is it,” Haruka murmurs into his glass, “that has you so engrossed, young lady?”

Her lips press together, teeth plucking at the scar. “You told me once that I should know who is my ally, and who is my-- Zen’s.”

The rim has hardly touched his lips, but Haruka sets down the crystal, hands folding behind his plate. “I did.”

“But those are not the one two options, are they.” It’s not a question, not anymore. “Sometimes they may seem to be one or the other, or both at the same time, but really-- it’s their own, isn’t it? Everyone is just trying to do what they think best.”

“That is...” The marquis takes in a steady breath. “A very mature way to see a frustrating problem.”

“The consort has said that she is my friend,” she says slowly, each word shaken loose from her heart. “But she is also lying to me.”

“Is she?”

Haruka, she had said once, these long skirts tangled around her legs, binding fast as any chain, he’s hard to read.

Is he? Zen’s hand was cold against hers, like touching marble. Izana’s had been the same so many years ago; she wonders if it might be a problem with their circulation, perhaps passed down from a parent, but this doesn’t seem the time to ask about his mother’s medical history. He’s always seemed clear as crystal to me.

Though, he continues, mouth set in a rueful grin. After a childhood of lectures, maybe it’s easier. I can tell how stupid he thinks I am just from the degree of his eyebrows.

His brow is furrowed now, a tight knot over the bridge of his nose. There’s no angle, no lift, and Shirayuki isn’t quite sure what that might say about his perception of her intelligence. If it were anyone else, she might even call it concern.

“Is she lying to you,” he asks, posing it like Lata when he wants to ask something particularly perverse as a rhetorical. “Or are you not asking the right questions?”

Her fingers clench tight on her lap, linen rucking up between her fingers. She likes this far less than Lata’s. “Your Grace...”

Now his brows raise, shock stark on his face, “Yes, Miss Shirayuki?”

“Do you...?” The words stick in her mouth; to ask them is to admit defeat. No-- distrust. That the best interests everyone has been working towards are not her own. “Do you know where Obi is?”

I have seen no precious boy, the tiger lily trumpets, as proud as ever. Only a little girl loved by all who see her. How lucky she is to garner such attention!

I care not for me, the little girls mutters, impatient. Where do you think he has gone?

Away, away. The flower bobs beneath its own self-importance. He has been taken away. Down and gone and buried with the roses. Perhaps you are the better for it.

“No.” It’s the truth; he wouldn’t bother to lie to her. “As of now, his location is unknown, even to the king himself.”

She licks her lips, nails biting into her thigh. The orbia seed burns a hole in her hip. “Are they looking for him?”

A shadow ripples over his face, gone before she can follow it to its source. “Someone might be.”

“I mean Zen,” she clarifies. “Or Izana.”

“I know,” he replies, voice impossibly gentle from such a forbidding mouth. “I think we’re ready for the next course, don’t you?”

Innocence and ignorance, truth and illusion, trust and betrayal-- we have meditated upon each, as if they are but separate concepts that can be held to the light and have each facet revealed in turn. But surely you seen that they have all brought us here, to this part, to this singular place: a knife buried in a breast, a garden made into a cage. A girl in each, who has finally seen the truth beneath the illusion.

We should rejoice, should we not? For these girls who might free themselves, might heal themselves? But yet you do not, do you? For you know the trick of it:

A wound does not truly begin to bleed until the blade is removed. And a girl like this--

Ah, her hand is already at the hilt.

For once, Shirayuki is relieved that it is her round-faced guard that awaits her and not a more experienced one. Or worse yet, Kiki, who would anticipate her before she could get a word in edgewise.

But luck is on her side; this dear boy springs from his place on the wall, every muscle tense with anticipation, quivering to do his duty, and she-- she is ready to take advantage of it.

“Ready, my lady?” he asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet, a hound eager to be given his leash. “It’s off to the ballroom next, isn’t it? With Master--?”

“Not today,” Shirayuki informs him swiftly. “I need you to take me to the king.”

The color leaches from his face. “The...the k-king?”

She nods, tight, officious. The sort Lady Mihoko gave her maids; the sort that belonged alongside a command obeyed.

“But, my lady...” He shuffles on his feet, loath to disappoint her. “Don’t you need an appointment to see His Majesty? I don’t think you can just go right in and--”

She’s already walked past him, chin held high. “He’ll see me.”

It may seem humble before the dawn, its petals as rumpled as bedsheets, drawn over its head like a child-- but when the sun casts its fiery crown over the garden, it is the convolvulus that is ascendant. It needs no dazzling pattern, no fanciful pinwheel of petal and sepal to make itself stand above its floral brethren, but only purity of color. For there is no other here that is so purely white, that has a color so simply blue. The tiger lily might roar among the plots, but it is to the convolvulus it bends, when it rises from its nightly slumber.

The little girl watches as the sleep falls from its petals, witness to its splendor. What, it asks, ruffling its delicate mane, could have made you seek me out, girl?

There is a not-insignificant portion of her life that has been spent waiting; not in the way of most of her colleagues-- for water to boil, or a titration to drip, or even for a letter of acceptance to arrive-- but for men with nothing else to recommend them but birth to decide they’re bored enough to receive the royal pharmacist. Shidan had called it fundraising and Kazaha glad-handing, but Shirayuki can admit now, as she flies past Izana’s steward, leaving him and her guard in her wake, what it really is:

Insulting.

The view always arrests her when she enters the royal solar, and this morning is no different; the sun setting, finishing its bright arc through the sky, but the angle of it, with the windows as they are-- it sets the king’s hair alight, a halo burning.

A target, she names grimly; and she the arrow. With his steward calling her name behind her, she takes a determined step toward him.

“Have you not heard then?” Izana asks, hardly bothering to look up from his papers. “I already approved your request to be excused from dinner.”

Shirayuki hauls up short, skirts swishing around her ankles. “Dinner?”

“Yes.” His brows raise, as does his gaze, already bored. “My brother already spoke about at length this morning. So if you seek to move me as well, please note that I have already stepped aside.”

“I...” She blinks. “I wasn’t here for that.”

Interest sparks in his eyes, quick as a struck match. “Then by all means, scold away. At least--” his mouth quirks, too amused-- “I assume that is your intention, marching into my office unannounced as you are.”

“Forgive me.” The steward presses a hand to his heaving breast. “Mistress Shirayuki--”

“It a force of nature,” his master replies, mouth curling like parchment corners. “So I have often had occasion to find out. You may leave us.”

“Your Majesty--” Izana merely lifts his brows, and the man stutters to a stop. “Of course. As you wish.”

“Now,” he hums as the doors close. “Just which wind sent this storm spinning into my office?”

Bound here you might be, but I know the trick of this place, the girl says, kneeing at the bed’s edge. What roots grow here touch the roots of all the morning’s glory. And you who wake with the sun-- you keep the closest watch on the horizon.

If there are any in the garden who know of my precious boy, she continues, the breeze rippling the convolvulus’s ruff. It would be you. So tell me, please...have you see him?

“It’s Obi,” she admits, heat stinging her cheeks. “I want to know the, er, status of the search.”

Izana blinks.

Oh, how kind it would be if this confusion was feigned, if it were all just a show to drag out her loyalties; to force her to admit that even if Zen was her heart, she could not turn her back on her home. That this was simply another moment where she would show him that friendship was strength, and the walls he erected himself were merely a folly.

But there is no smug satisfaction buoying his words when he asks, “The search? Didn’t Sir Obi leave my brother’s employ months ago? The beginning of the summer, I believe--”

“He didn’t quit,” Shirayuki insists, even as the seed weighs heavy between her skirts. “He disappeared, and Zen said he had put men out to search for him.”

A flower has no face, but the girl need no smile, no hooded eyes to discern the sorrowful bent of its stem.

I am but the morning’s glory, the convolvulus sighs, and when the night comes, I fold myself tight. Your boy does not pass me in my waking hours, so perhaps it is that he travels in the night.

But what does that mean? asks the girl. Why would he only travel at night? He is but a boy, a boy, and he walks in day.

The convolvulus is quiet, swaying in the garden’s eternal summer. I do not know, he admits. I do not know at all.

“Ah.” His eyes soften, no longer the unrelenting velvet of the night, but the waves of deep water, and Shirayuki finally has cause to find out: to experience Izana’s pity is a thousand times worse than his disdain. “I am not privy to the movement of my brother’s men, so long as I do not need them in attendance. He must not have put in his last report...”

“Please.” Her hand flies up between them, earning her an incredulous lift of a brow. “It only makes it worse that you are being decent about it.”

His laugh surprises her. “So you’d like me to gloat?”

“No.” Her breath saws out of her, great heaves that shake her shoulders. “I want you to grant me leave to find him.”

“You?” His brows raise, even his eyes widen, but to his credit, he does not ask, but what could you do? Instead his mask settles back over his face without a ripple, the king staring out from behind it. “It would be a waste. I have heard from your tutors that you are making good progress. Lady Mihoko even ventured to say you might make a passable princess, if you pushed out an heir fast enough.”

Her mouth twitches. Only yesterday, she would have nearly fainted with relief, but today-- “What praise.”

There’s a stern tilt to his mouth, a forbidding set to his eyebrows; if she didn’t know any better, Shirayuki would call it concern. “As I recall, our agreement did address this.”

“Then you mean...?”

“Yes.” He nods, splaying his palms across his desk, almost as if he were bracing himself. “If you leave the palace grounds, you forfeit your chance to be the one at my brother’s side. A princess leaves such things in the hands of her guardsmen--” his mouth twitches-- “and her husband.”

You want her to go, do you not? Even now you quiver at the edge of your seat, begging this little girl to open her eyes, to keep them open, to see through the illusion and run as fast as she can. You want her to leave the garden, to break through the last of this enchantment and leave safety behind.

But tell me, what would you do, with the knife quivering it in your chest? To forget it is to live with the pain. To remove it is to be free.

An easy choice, you might say. Who could live with a blade in their breast? Ah, but do not forget:

There is no way to know if the wound is fatal until the knife is removed.

“There is something I wonder, Mistress Shirayuki.”

His musings shatter the brittle silence between them; that fragile bulwark that has kept her in his skin. Now that it’s gone, she trembles, every muscle in her body fighting the urge to cross the king’s study and shake him until decency falls it.

A hopeless quest if there ever was one. “Is there something else you could possibly say to me?”

She says it sweetly; most would hear only that-- the tone rather than the content. But Izana has not sat so long on his father’s throne by being that sort of man; no, his mouth curls, amused.

“No. It’s only...” he hums, gaze lifting from his paper. “I wonder when you started to think Obi left.”

Then what do you know? the girl says, anger and bile rising in her tone. What good are you?

A flower cannot smile, but she feels teeth when it replies, I know that it will cost you, and cost you dear.

Izana might as well have struck her. Shirayuki rocks back on her heels, only just catching herself before she trips over her own hem. “I-I...what do you...?”

“When you came in here, you first talked as you had before.” Long fingers knit beneath his chin, though he does not deign to rest on them, not alert as he is. A cat before a kill, still toying with with the prey between his paws. “You insisted on his disappearance-- the implication being, of course, that you deny his own agency in his departure. Kidnapping or coercion, one might say.”

She cannot see its teeth, but Shirayuki isn’t so foolish to believe there is no trap. “Y-yes..”

“But now you come to me and ask after my men.” His mouth quirks. “You ask for my permission.”

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?” she asks, fingers clenching in her skirts. “A princess wouldn’t depart without the approval of her liege.”

“Of course.” He waves a hand, as if all those rules she spent late nights learning mean nothing at all, as if they were worth less than the paper on which they had been printed. “A princess would. But you, Miss Shirayuki, you--” his eyes spark, the way she only saw that night in Lilias as he closed the gates-- “you jump from windows. You follow a flower into a cave. If you truly believed your companion in danger, I doubt there is a single promise that would keep you by my side.”

She cannot breathe, let alone hazard an answer. Not when even a flutter of an eyelash could give her away.

“Which begs the question, doesn’t it?” His gaze fixes her to where she stand, pins through a moth’s wings. “Just what reason would make him leave?”

Me? the girl cries, already thinking of her lovely red shoes, of the boat they bought her down the river. Why me?

Because my dear, the convolulus hums. It is your fault that he has left.

The doors swing open, and the steward steps inside, sparing her an infuriatingly smug glance. “Sir Lowen, Your Majesty.”

“A moment,” the king tells him, “Mistress Shirayuki and I are nearly done her.”

The man nods. “I will tell him to await your will.”

Shirayuki blinks. “What--?” It’s trial to catch her breath, to make her heart stop pounding in her breast. “What is Mitsuhide doing here?”

“You need an escort to your dinner, do you not? I thought he would be the most palatable option for you.” Izana fixes her with a meaningful look. “I do hope you find your answers, Mistress Shirayuki.”

You don’t know me. Obi’s gaze is raw in her memory, too gold. You don’t know anything about me.

You know how he is. Zen’s smile curls at the edges, brittle, like parchment pasted to vellum. Obi has always come back on his own before.

Zen will take care of it. Mitsuhide won’t meet her gaze. I’m sure Obi will be back any day now.

“Don’t worry.” It’s a miracle that the words don’t catch between her teeth, the way she’s clenching them. “I will.”

A hand wraps around a hilt. A breath shudders. And with one, swift tug--

The blade moves but an inch.

#obiyukiweek21 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #All That Remains #snow queen au #ans #YET ANOTHER CHAPTER #WHERE I DO NOT REACH THE END OF THIS PART #it's coming guys #really it is...#...one day....#but at least you get this small glimmer of hope #FOR NOW

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rikalovesrice · 2 years

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The Eternal Day : Tales of Arcadia - Chapter 5

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Author’s Notes : If this chapter had a theme, it would 100% be Fódlan Winds by Rozen. Ever since I stumbled upon this piece, it just screamed “NARI” at me (at least as a dweeb who hasn’t played Fire Emblem lol). I listened to it almost every time I settled down to write this chapter. This’ll be a small one but dense with the feels (like a creme brulee, if you will...or don’t it’s fine .__. ).

Hope you all enjoy the chapter!

Turn of The Forest Child

Golden light made its nest on hilltops in the distance, casting shadows over the grounds below tender after their revival. Patches of barren land had yet to flourish once again, and pitted beds of stones remained empty of water. But there was no need to fear. The returned life of the Heartstones would soon reach every ravaged place.

“Father?” Nari joined the Great Eternity on the cliff plush with grass. She sat at his side, basking in his warm presence. The setting sun gleamed off his horns and ignited streaks of his long unruly mane. His eyes, as they turned to her, shone with a thousand colors, some she didn’t recognize, and his gentle smile was unlike any other.

“Yes, my child?” His voice chased away the deepest of fears.

“Bellroc is very upset,” Nari said. She pressed into her father’s side as his wing folded around her. “Skrael, too.”

“Mm.” He knew. “And you, Nari? How do you feel?”

She sat up on her knees, his feathers sliding over her back. “You know what my thoughts are.”

He chuckled. “Yes, but won’t you tell me anyway?”

Nari gazed at him, then took a breath, releasing it as she brought her hands to her chest and closed her eyes.

“I am moved by the mercy you have shown this world,” Nari said. She gazed down at the darkening landscape, then upon the hilltops where the luscious golden light dropped further and further, beckoning stars to come out of hiding. “I feel the darkness has weakened.”

“Indeed it has, though it certainly remains,” her father said. They rested in silence for a moment. “The three of you must heed my words.” He looked to her. “Do not unleash the Titans again.”

Nari nodded. “But what about Bellroc and Skrael? They are so angry that you spared the humans.”

Her father tilted his head with a shrug. “They’re allowed to be so. Though, isn’t it odd to be bitter towards kindness?”

Nari thought. “Hm…I suppose it is.”

They beheld the sun disappear and listened to the chirped songs of night rise. The light was soft, gold to silver with the unveiling of a crescent moon.

The Great Eternity stood with Nari in his arm. She held his neck around the thickness of his hair.

“I’m returning to the Light Realm soon,” he said.

She buried her face into his mane. “Do you have to?”

“I do. But your family will be with you, as I will always be. Nari, my Life, you must remember this.”

A streak of light blazed across the night. The stars were so bright the heavens seemed to glitter. Nari closed her eyes, her father’s voice in her ears.

“Not only on the brightest day, but in the deepest of darkness…”

◆

Love is the greatest thing.

Nari shook awake. Smoke burned her nostrils. Her arms and legs stung with cold.

“Ugh…” She made a fist, claws scraping the ground gritty with dust and littered with shards of stone, and strained onto her elbows. She raised her head, eyes darting against the haze. The sound of flames clotted her ears. Her rapid breathing fumed in the chilled air. “Douxie? Archie?”

Up. She had to get up.

Nari rose to kneel. “Claire…Jim…A-Aja…” Staggered to her feet, turned and turned but there was only a miserable cloud. No, no, no! Her eyes burned. She could still feel each of their souls close to her. But for how long? “Douxie! Douxie!”

Wind howled over the damaged side of the castle, tugging the smoke and dust with it. Through the thinning haze, Nari found her friends strewn about and frozen in place. The trolls and changelings completely encased. Claire stuck to the ground with others, a stripe of blood down her forehead and over her nose. Steve’s face twisted in agony. Douxie hanging from the remains of a wall with his head free, his lip busted and blackened cheek gashed. Archie lying still below him, wings webbed with frost. Red fire scattered over the rubble, horribly close to the ice’s prisoners.

Nari looked up and saw the shape of them hovering above the wreckage. A flaming blood moon. A ghastly apparition.

“Sepio!”

Nari’s magic surrounded her and covered her friends as Bellroc and Skrael swung their staffs. A barrage of fire and ice struck the shield with such force Nari’s feet faltered. She grit her teeth and chanted in her mind, altering her barrier. Nari joined her hands with a whirl of her arms before pushing them out with a shout, her magic swallowing flames and icy wind and hurling them back to their sources. She followed her attack through the air and, once it hit its marks, raked her claws across Bellroc’s face, lava oozing from the wound. She then conjured a ball of magic in her other palm and slammed it against their stomach, knocking them back several feet.

A chill spread over the back of her neck and she turned just in time to block Skrael’s magic with her own, their eyes locking through flying sparks. His gaze was ever malicious and crazed, but right now it was also something else. A small gasp left Nari’s lips. That’s what it was. Conflicted.

By the time Nari noticed Skrael’s other hand, shards of ice were already shooting towards her, several slicing her arms and legs. The pain of a hundred needles bit into her and her magic weakened just enough. Their clashing magic dissipated and Skrael struck Nari across the face with his staff. Bellroc appeared in a flash of fire over her and swung their heel into her abdomen, sending her crashing back into the ruined castle. She made it back onto her hands and knees as Bellroc and Skrael drew closer, their staffs glowing ominously.

“I do not want this,” Nari managed, holding her side as she rose to her feet. “I do not want us to fight.”

“And yet still you resist us,” Bellroc said lowly.

“You leave us no choice!” Skrael spat.

Nari ducked low, narrowly missing streams of ice and fire, and scurried to her right with a spell upon her lips. She opened her hands, her magic taking on the appearance of vines as it coursed from her palms and coiled around her siblings, slamming them up against a crumbling wall. She fortified the vines with an extra push of energy.

“No more of this!” Nari pleaded. “We…” Her chest tightened. “We should not hurt each other. We are family!”

“Family?” Skrael’s eyes flashed icy blue, a growl pushed through his teeth as he clenched his hands. With an angry cry, his frigid magic seeped over Nari’s, misty crystals rapidly crawling up the length of her vines until they pierced her palm. Nari recoiled, allowing Skrael to escape and lunge, though she recovered quick enough to block the swing of his staff. His face creased with rage was a mere inch from hers. Once again, Nari was taken aback by the conflict in his gaze. As though he’d been wounded. “It was you who abandoned us! And for what?” He glared at her friends. “For these wretched humans!”

Skrael’s magic fueled his staff and he shoved hard, loosening Nari’s hold on Bellroc as she was knocked backwards. Instead of going for her, Bellroc raised their staff towards her frozen friends, flames circling the gem and prepared to incinerate them. A savage, animalistic sound tore from Nari’s lips and she leapt into the air.

“Tenebris exilium!” Her magic erupted from her hands and from the spell rings formed around her, viciously colliding with Bellroc’s fire.

“Lux extinguo!” A dark sigil drew itself behind Skrael before flying up to the head of his staff and releasing a devastating gale of frost. Nari made another warcry, only pushing back harder against Bellroc and Skrael’s combined strength.

To the atmosphere charged with clashing magic, Douxie began to stir. The pain on his left cheek was immediately unbearable and the taste of blood lingered on his tongue. He was locked in the feeling of knives stabbing him from all sides all the way into his bones, unable to move anything but his head, clouded and throbbing. Douxie lifted his head with a heavy groan, bright flickering colors blurring his vision. He knew that spring green with flecks of pink.

“Nari…,” Douxie croaked, barely a whisper. Recognition of the Arcane Order set in as the fogginess subsided and he inhaled sharply, memories jogged. Douxie’s eyes snapped about, confirming his friends frozen amidst what remained of the sitting room and the surrounding halls. He searched the far corner adjacent to the chunk of wall he was stuck to and saw Zoe, Varvatos, Eli, and Krel sprawled about, also crystallized. He turned back to Nari who was fending off the Order and clamped his eyes shut to stop the world from spinning and to swallow the lump of panic clogging his throat. His heartbeat pounded in his skull. He jerked his head side to side. His magic blazed deep inside him, but he couldn’t provide the flow of movement. So with his mind alone, Douxie willed his magic to move. Screamed for it to escape him and erode the enchanted ice. Douxie pushed and pushed, sweating despite being cocooned in cold, until he could just twitch his fingers.

Help…I have to help Nari!

The raging streams of magic continued to scrape against each other. Bellroc and Skrael sent several more rounds of energy into their attacks, Nari doing the same, until the beams of magic exploded in a blaze of blinding light and sent the three of them crashing.

Bellroc and Skrael were back on their feet first, and Nari rose to meet them. The air went rigid with silence for a long moment, filled only with their ragged breathing.

“Enough of this,” Skrael said. He extended a hand. “Come back to us, Nari, and all of this suffering will be over.” A slight curl on his lips. “We could even let your worthless friends live a little bit longer.”

“Their lives are not worthless,” Nari said. “No life is worthless. And Humanity is more than its depravity. Do you not see? That is why Father spared them!” She opened her palms. “Please understand. This world is not beyond redemption.” Heart pounding and aching. Uneven breaths. “If you would only understand…We would not have to fight!”

Bellroc let out a caustic laugh. “Just as pointless as Eternity’s mercy, you and your sentiments. While that fool left this world and Magickind to rot, we are the ones who have toiled to maintain order.”

Nari shut her eyes, shook her head. “That is what you have always said. It was all to keep balance, to keep peace. But all that has happened is needless bloodshed.” She glowered right at them. “What you have done, what you are doing…That is what is evil. I would never abandon you. But I could no longer stand your murderous ways. And I will not let you harm my friends!” Nari widened her stance, flexing her hands. But Bellroc just laughed again.

“So naive, calling us evil,” they said, stalking forward. “But if that is to be, you are just as guilty.” A smirk played on their lips when Nari stiffened. “That’s right. How intriguing, that you act so superior when your own claws are drenched in blood.” Soon Bellroc towered over her, those rolling red and yellow eyes ever grotesque. “Seems you’ve forgotten the part you’ve played in this ‘evil.’ Shall I remind you?”

Bellroc’s hand shot out, the pad of their thumb swiping Nari’s forehead and she screamed, a burst of magic erupting from her and blowing Bellroc back.

Nari clutched her head and dropped to her knees. Douxie’s stomach plummeted and he fought the urge to shout her name. He now had decent wiggle room for his limbs and the ice was thawing faster and faster. But the initial constant push of his magic left him faint, and he took a moment to breathe.

Just a little more, Hisirdoux. Come on, come on…!

Everything Nari had suppressed was forced to the front of her mind. Centuries of people being torched, petrified, strangled. Men, women, children. Skin melting. Screams deafening echoes. Eyes lifeless. Bodies lacerated. Corpses lying at her feet, mutilated by her own hands but she denied. Denied, denied, denied, turning her face away until she no longer could. But it had changed nothing, all her running.

The past is forgiven.

A lie. For though Nari faced Bellroc and Skrael now, a mob of ghosts banged against a splintered door in the darkness of her mind, where she’d locked them away, still unable to face them.

Men, women, and children. All while Nari partook in games, mango smoothies, and friendship.

She saw her father, whose face she’d also turned from and hidden away. Now all she could do was fall to her knees with her face in her hands, scream swelling into a sob.

“There’s no need for tears, Nari.” Bellroc knelt before her, their hand gentle as it laid upon Nari’s head. She’d forgotten their voice could be so tender and warm. “You need only come back and finish the work you’ve begun with us. All will be well in the end. And we will be together once again.”

“Yes, Nari.” Skrael floated next to her, his smile soft. “Let us be together again.”

Nari sat up, gazing at them. She was reminded of long ago, when they would sit together just like this and weave fantastic, silly tales during the night. And not too long ago, Nari still made herself imagine it was just like then. Bellroc was not merciless. Skrael was not cruel. All was well. They were together.

But the men, women, and children were scraping at the door, having finally been paid attention in full.

Her dear friends were imprisoned all around her.

Her father’s eyes of a thousand colors looked upon her, but Nari shied from his gaze.

“I want us to be together,” Nari said quietly. She closed her eyes. “I am sorry…I did not wish to inflict such wounds upon you.”

“It’s forgiven,” Skrael said. His eyes lingered on her scars.

“Yes,” Bellroc said, though their tone darkened. “Now come. Let us—”

“I want us to be together.” Nari shook her head and gazed at her siblings, a deep pain in her heart. “But we cannot. Not when our desires are not the same.” The shift in Bellroc and Skrael’s visages were instant, measured fondness to irritation. Nari’s veins came alight with magic at the ready in her fingertips. “I cannot…I will not—”

The three of them went off like bombs. None were sure who moved first. In less than half a blink, Bellroc and Skrael lashed out, their magic jetting against the protective bubble Nari had summoned. She dug in her heels and bared her teeth, meeting her siblings’ snarling faces.

Douxie’s left arm was finally free.

“Yes!” he whispered, summoning his staff and making quick work of the rest. He dropped to the ground as quietly as he could and scooped Archie into his arms. Douxie’s heart sank at the frost crimping his wings and how freezing his fur was. “Arch? Arch, come on, old pal…” He smoothed a hand over Archie’s head. Relief flooded through him when his Familiar groaned awake and he hugged him close.

“Wha…Douxie…?” Archie rasped. “What happened…Ugh, it’s so bloody cold!”

“Keep it down.” Douxie peeked over his shoulder, Archie doing the same with a gasp. Nari shoved her barrier outward and it burst, the Order stumbling but quickly recovering. She rolled away from a round of icicles then deflected Bellroc’s flames with a swipe of her magic-cloaked arm. Douxie’s eyes darted about as he tried to steady his breathing. “We need to free everyone and help Nari. I’ve got everyone over here. Zoe and some others are down that way.”

While Archie slinked away, Douxie started with Claire, his stomach twisting at her bloodstained face.

“I’ve got you,” Douxie said when her eyes flicked towards him. A stream of magic shot from his palm until the ice crumbled and she was free. He supported the back of her head and kept a hand on her waist as she slowly sat up. “Easy there.”

“T-Teach…,” Claire said, hugging herself and shuddering. “Y-You’re face…Everyone, they’re…! Oh n-no…No…!”

“I know,” Douxie said. “It’s alright. It’s gonna be alright.” He got to work freeing the others, extinguishing flames as he went. Jim and Toby, Walter and Nomura, then Blinky and Aaarrrgghh. Across the way, Archie had managed to loose the rest. All of them disoriented and cold and in pain. Aja looked on anxiously when Douxie made it to Steve, but once the ice fell away, a cry of anguish tore from his throat.

“Steve!” Douxie said, trying to calm and shush him. But one look at his arm bent three different ways, and Douxie’s face paled.

“I-it hurts,” Steve sobbed, his head writhing in Aja’s lap. “D-dude it hurts so bad…!”

Having heard the cry, Nari whirled around to see all of her friends unfrozen. Her relief turned to panic when a blast of fire struck her in the back, sending her slamming and rolling across the ground until she smashed against the base of the wall.

“Nari!” Douxie was at her side, but the warmth of his hands was short-lived. “Aagh!!” Cords of angry red slapped around his wrists, icy blue around his ankles, and he was dragged into the air. Douxie shouted in pain as his limbs were violently pulled, and he feared his arms and legs would be ripped from their sockets.

“Douxie!!” Zoe limped forward, weak sparks flitting between her fingers. Those who found their footing joined her, but they were cut off by a barrier of jagged ice.

“Back, you filthy worms!” Skrael sneered. “Unless you want to hasten his death.” He made a fist and flicked his wrist, the bindings around Douxie’s ankles tightening. Rage and despair clouded everyone’s faces at his pained wail.

“No!” Nari got up, eyes flaring. “Release him now!”

“You force our hand,” Bellroc said. Those morbid wooden eyes glowered at her for a long moment. “This is our final offer. Reap what you have sown, Nari, or watch him be dismembered.” Another agonized scream as the cords were pulled impossibly tauter. Douxie wheezed as the tip of Bellroc’s staff dug into his back, right at his heart, and the icy blade of Skrael’s pressed against his throat.

“STOP!!” Zoe screamed, face streaked with tears as she was held back by Nomura. Archie bristled at her feet, eyes glistening and thick ribbons of steam billowing through his teeth and nostrils.

Nari knew. She knew the power of the Titans. It would be too much, even for her valiant friends and all their preparations. It would be the end of this world she loved. This world she had betrayed again and again.

It would be a promise broken.

What should I do, Father?

Yet when she caught Douxie’s eyes and held his gaze, how simple a choice it was.

Easy, in fact.

“Very well,” Nari said. She withdrew every ounce of her magic. Back straight, eyes down, breathing steady, she stepped forward as Bellroc willed the Genesis Seals into their hand.

“Nari…!” Douxie gasped, and Skrael sank the blade of his staff ever so slightly into his skin, drawing blood.

Nari steeled herself as she locked eyes with her siblings. “You will spare him.”

“He will not die tonight,” Bellroc said. “Nor will any of your friends. You have our word.”

Nari turned to look at her friends. Hearts so luminous, even now, and for a moment she believed. Perhaps this wouldn’t be the end. Perhaps there was enough light in these remarkable souls for the whole world. Enough to withstand anything, even the might of Titans and whatever was to come after.

After. No, not even.

What would happen once their father’s command was broken? Perhaps...perhaps Bellroc and Skrael would see renounce their plans and change and be who they once were. Perhaps he would show Nari mercy, her and her siblings, and a semblance of those olden days would return. Nari’s thoughts ran wild with perhapses, sprinting until the winding trail tapered off into her uncertainty. She didn’t know.

But as Nari gazed upon her friends, their desperate faces and watery eyes, sacred words resounded in her mind. Glowed like embers in her heart, soul, and body. An anchor.

Love is the greatest thing.

“This is my final plea.” Nari’s eyes flicked back to Bellroc and Skrael still pinning Douxie with their staffs, then watched as the Seals were suspended in the air. A rod of fear thrust down her spine. “You know what Father said.”

Contempt.

Fingernails bit into Nari’s scalp. Bellroc gripping on the left, Skrael on the right. Their magic assailed her mind, auras ensnaring her heart and soul. Soon she was slipping, a dark fog consuming her. Her friends’ voices crying her name. Her father’s face. One last tear.

Then she lost herself entirely.

A strange language rose from her lips, a tongue unknown yet understood weaving the first lines of an ancient incantation.

Life or Death, the choice is made

Eat the Fruits, the free ones crave

Blinding light shone across the intricate Seals with a thunderous ring. Douxie was blown forwards, bindings torn to shreds, as a shockwave of the most powerful magic he’d ever felt pulsed over the castle walls and beyond. Aaarrrgghh rolled to catch him, Zoe and Archie flying to his side.

The Arcane Order arranged themselves into a circle around the Seals, lifting off the ground. Skrael joined in with Nari, speaking the next phrase of the chant. The words permeated the air, filled everyone’s skulls, sent a ripple down the seam where soul meets body.

Magic One, magic True

Goodness and Truth, defied, refused

The Guardians of Arcadia huddled close, shielding one another against the waves of primal energy surging from the ritual.

Douxie’s eyes remained on Nari, unblinking and tearful. Bellroc’s voice blended into the incantation’s final phrase.

Sins of All, pay the wage

Awaken, Giants!

Declare the Reign!

Another thunderous crash and the Seals shattered, a ray of light brighter than the sun shooting straight into the heavens and turning night to day.

But only for a moment.

Wisps of darkness swirled around the fragments of the Seals before spiraling upward like a swarm of wasps, overtaking the light and plunging the world into pitch darkness for one whole breath. When they could all look again, they saw the members of the Order shrouded in their magic. Bellroc’s blindfold had fallen away, their restored eyes twin firestorms.

“Nari,” they rasped, voice deep and booming through the air. Nari immediately turned with an outstretched hand, her magic taking the shape of vines and pinning her friends against the remaining walls. All except one.

Douxie gasped in pain as he was crushed into the grip of a single vine. His friends shouted his name, thrashing against Nari’s hold but to no avail. His lungs begged for breath as he was brought closer. Choking on his grief, because when he looked into Nari’s eyes, she wasn’t there anymore.

Bellroc gave the command.

“Kill him.”

Everything was going black. There were screams, Zoe wailing above the rest. Douxie held Nari’s gaze.

No matter what, he wouldn’t look away.

“Nari...” It somehow made it out of him. Then he was flying. Then he was falling, thrown over the walls of Camelot.

Without another second’s hesitation, the Order was wrapped in dark-stained light. Then they were gone, leaving nothing.

Zoe jumped on Archie’s back and they leapt down to the earth below, not a word spoken.

Jim collapsed to his hands and knees.

Steve writhed in agony from his broken arm.

Claire stared blankly ahead, eyes raw, until a drop of cold kissed her cheek. They all looked up.

It was raining.

Author’s Notes : Oh Lordy, where do I even begin. It’s such a shame that the canon series (minus RoTT *hurk*) couldn’t delve more into Nari as a character. Like yes, Nari is Queen Green Bean who must be protected. But she also actively participated in everything Bellroc and Skrael had been doing (”Our actions only caused pain.” Also the look on her face during Killahead? Home girl was out for blood y’all.). I really wanted to explore that more and hopefully add some depth to Nari cause she’s so coooooool and I love her :3

Anywho, this chapter was really fun to write hehe. The thought of Nari jumping around like the monkey she is and going toe to toe with the Order gives me joy teehee

I do hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Bless and thank you so much for reading!

Until the next one (TITANS DUN DUN DUUUUNNNN--), God bless!

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bigfrozenfan-fanfics · 3 years

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Chapter 15 - Valley of the Living Rock

Links: Chapter overview, Character list, Map, Glossar Rating: M over all Publishing cycle: each Friday at 6:00 pm CEST dst/UTC +2:00 on (link) Remarks: all my chapters contain carefully selected music tracks. It’s your own decision if you want to use them or not while reading. The purpose is to musically support the respective mood of the plot. If you can please use a browser for reading (not the Tumblr app) due to the text formatting and music.

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Elsa could not avert her gaze as they passed the ice palace on her left about an hour after dark. She had placed her forearms on top of each other on the side of the wagon and supported her chin on her left hand while she visibly enjoyed the sight. A pale blue glow lit up the palace from the inside and made the filigree structure visible from afar. It was like a beacon in the night and beautiful to look at.

“This is what I should have created?” she asked Anna softly, “It is simply fantastic.”

“Yes, that was you, Elsa, all alone. I'll have to tell you the long story about it sometime after. It was your refuge and is now the home of Marshmallow and the Snowgies.”

Elsa turned to her with a questioning expression on her face. But Anna laid a hand on hers before she could ask for it and said, smiling, “Be patient. It's an exciting as well as funny story and you'll certainly have many more questions about it.”

Elsa nodded and turned around again afterwards. “All right", she said very quietly and, "I'd love to have a look at it from the inside,” more to herself than to Anna.

But Anna had heard it and said almost as softly, “You will, sis. We will visit your palace together. Hopefully very soon.”

Suddenly Anna remembered all the events when she was looking for her sister back then. Except for the pure beauty of the palace itself and the fact that she had met Kristoff on her arduous journey, however, she did not have very pleasant memories of it and she was somehow glad that Elsa did not insist on her story right now. There was plenty of time for that in another day; she thought.

But it wouldn't be easy for her to reopen her past, she knew that for sure now. She bit her lower lip slightly as she thought about it, but quickly shook the thought off again. There were more important things to do now and soon they would reach the Valley of the Living Rock. Her eyes fell on Olaf, who was sitting directly opposite her. Somehow he seemed to know exactly what she was thinking, for he nodded at her in a knowing way and looked at her sympathetically.

But as if she had guessed the right moment in advance, Kristoff just called forward in a loud voice and asked Mattias to come back to him. Both wagons stopped and Mattias rode to his side.

“I know a shortcut and we have to turn off further ahead soon. The path is hard to see, especially now in the dark. It's best if I get in front of your wagon and drive ahead. Sven also knows the way and will lead us there safely.”

“All right, Kristoff. I'll let my people know up front, and we'll come after you. How long will it take us to get there?”

“A little over an hour, I'd say. We'll have to walk the rest as soon as the road is too narrow for the wagons. Besides, the area is very rocky and there are active geysers there.”

Kristoff saw, in the flickering light of the lantern hanging outside the wagon, how Mattias looked at him in astonishment, finally just nodded and rode back. Kristoff pulled up slowly when he saw Mattias waving. The wagon in front also had a lantern hanging on the outside and as he drove by he saw two sceptical looking faces. Trygve and Kristina were obviously not very eager to meet living legends from an ancient fable story in the middle of the night. He nodded at them smiling, “Don't worry, folks. The trolls are harmless. I grew up among them.”

But Kristoff did not see them grinning at each other anymore and Trygve tapped his temple with his finger and shook his head.

Olaf climbed to the front beside Kristoff and laughed in his inimitable way: “I am looking forward to seeing everyone again, especially the little ones. They're always so funny.”

Kristoff looked over at him and was about to answer him when Anna's head appeared between them and said to Kristoff conspiratorially quietly, “Kristoff, I think it's better if you go ahead later and make sure that only Grand Pabbie is waiting for us alone. I don't want Elsa to be frightened. You know how trolls are. Maybe you should warn him about her condition right away.” Turning to Olaf, she quickly added, “I'm sorry, Olaf, but you won't be able to see the little ones tonight.”

“Never mind, Anna, we'll visit them some other time soon,” he returned happily and laughed at her.

Anna looked at Kristoff again and he nodded. “All right, Anna. I hadn't thought of that yet.”

She put a hand on his shoulder with a smile. “Thanks, honey.”

When she sat back down again, Elsa grabbed her arm and asked, “Trolls? We are going to see trolls now?”

Anna pressed her lips together with raised eyebrows and wide open eyes and felt caught. Kristoff hadn't exactly been quiet earlier, and Elsa was now certainly feeling insecure. Why hadn't she instructed Kristoff before.

“Um ... well, actually only to one troll. He is very old and wise, has great amount of knowledge. You have seen him twice before and he has known you since we were both little kids. Kristoff and I hope he can help us with your lost memories. He has certain abilities, you know? You don't have to be afraid of him, even if he looks a little ... strange at first glance.” Anna searched Elsa's face to see if she seemed afraid.

But Elsa just smiled and replied, “I think I have many more miracles to prepare for. I'm beginning to feel as if I've woken up in a fairy tale that's come to life.”

~~~

Yelana had now been on the road for hours and stopped at a lively little stream to refresh herself and give the reindeer water. The advantage of travelling cross-country, as opposed to a wagon on a reindeer, was to save time and travel. She knew the area pretty well, so there was no danger of getting lost in the woods. But despite the time saved, dusk had already fallen and she would not quite make it to Arendelle in daylight. It did not make sense to arrive there in the middle of the night.

She looked around and found a good place to spend the night. The foliage of a big tree was very dense and underneath it was a small open area that would protect her from possible rain. At least as long as it did not pour.

She led the reindeer there and tied the line of the harness to a thick branch. Then she gathered lichen, moss and some mushrooms for the animal. Unfortunately, she herself had not had time to provide for her own food, but this area here offered enough plants that were full of edible berries. She gathered enough of them to satisfy her hunger to some extent.

She then cut off some green pine branches from various trees around her and used them to make a temporary camp for the night. Finally she sat down in front of it and thought about her next steps. Would the council in Arendelle even believe her? She had to find Queen Anna first and inform her about the new situation. It would change everything and possibly endanger the newly won peace treaty between Arendelle and her people considerably. Would she be able to help her to regain her place as leader of the Northuldra?

Yelana sighed and shook her head. Probably not; she thought. In order to proceed against Kolgrimr without endangering further human lives, someone with magical abilities would be needed. Someone like Elsa. Right now they were all so dependent on their fifth spirit, however Elsa was unfortunately out of action.

Yelana reached into her bag and pulled out her scarf that she once got from her mother. She put it around her shoulders and wrapped herself tightly in it. Lost in thought, she stroked the five symbols on it and thought of her past, of the time when everything was still in balance and they all lived in harmony with themselves and everything around them. Long before the fateful day when King Runeard appeared and since then everything, but really everything, had gone out of control.

The peace had not lasted long and she would have to fight for it now, even if it cost her her own life. Once again, she had been thoroughly mistaken about someone, for as it now turned out, Gyda had been giving her son shelter for years and unnoticed. It had probably been she herself who had poisoned her son's being with her hatred and had turned him into a monster. Someone who was now even willing to kill.

Under no circumstances was Gyda allowed to lead the people of the sun. Not ever. She would make sure of it. But Yelana did not yet know how she would do it. She needed support. She needed help from Arendelle.

She gritted her teeth in annoyance and disappointment at herself as she thought back to the Norting and what she had told the men there.

Gyda had lied right into her face and she had believed everything.

~~~

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Kristoff stopped the wagon and jumped off the trestle. “End of the line. We have to walk from here,” he called out.

Rocks rose up to their left and right, and the path had become narrow and rocky. Further ahead, the steam of the geysers enveloped the rest of the path.

Kristoff waved back to Mattias and the other two drivers and then went to Sven to make sure that everything was all right with him and that he felt comfortable. Mattias said something to his people and then came forward alone.

“Are we there?” he asked.

Anna replied in Kristoff's place, “Pretty much, Mattias, but Kristoff will go ahead alone first and announce our arrival.”

Mattias nodded and got off his horse to stretch his legs a little.

“I'll be back soon,” Kristoff said as he came back to them and got a torch from inside the wagon. He lit it on the lantern and disappeared shortly afterwards in the fog in front of them.

They waited and it took at least half an hour until finally the other two came to them as well. Trygve carried the lantern from the wagon and asked, “Is there a problem?”

“No, it's all right. Kristoff went ahead alone and should be back any moment,” Mattias replied to them. He saw their skeptical looks, which were directed past him to the front and said, “You don't have to come along if you don't want to.”

“It's okay, General” Kristina said, “We've been through so much already, we don't want to miss the opportunity to encounter a myth.”

She looked at her companion, who nodded affirmatively, “We'll come.”

“All right,” Mattias said, “to be honest, I feel the same way, but keep your eyes open all the time, remember our duty is to protect the royal family at all cost.”

A few minutes later, a faint reddish spot dancing up and down in the thick haze like a will-o'-the-wisp announced Kristoff's return.

After he gave his okay, they all left. Anna walked ahead at his side, followed by Elsa with Olaf, then Mattias, who looked around attentively, and in the end Trygve and Kristina, who looked visibly nervous and kept peering back over their shoulders into the dark. Kristina rubbed her wet palms against her leg dresses.

The little geysers hissed and enveloped them in their damp steam as they passed them. However, after a short time the view became clearer and the narrow path opened up into a lower, almost circular area where there was a large rock. On it sat a quirky looking creature covered with moss, wearing a chain of yellow shining crystals around his neck. It was Grand Pabbie, the king of the trolls, who looked calmly and serenely towards them and had folded his big hands in his lap.

They were already halfway to the clearing when Elsa only now noticed him and stopped in surprise. She stared at him and began to nervously knead her hands in front of her. She hadn't expected this after all. All the others behind her also stopped and waited to see what might happen. Only Olaf ran on and stood next to Anna, who now stopped right in front of the troll. She hadn't noticed anything behind her yet.

The old troll bowed before her. “Your Majesty ..., Kristoff ... it is never a dull moment with you all. Only this time you're going to give me a real challenge.” He looked at Elsa in between them and it took a few seconds before he finally said something again. “She's afraid.”

Anna's head spun around and she ran the few steps back to Elsa, took her hands in hers to calm her down and looked deep into her eyes. “Elsa, you don't have to be afraid of him, really. He only wants to help. Please come forward with me, I'll be by your side at all times,” she said softly and almost imploringly. “Trust me, there's no danger at all.”

Anna felt her sister's hands tremble slightly and for a few moments Elsa didn't react but just stared at the troll. Then her sister took a deep breath and nodded. She looked at Anna and squeezed her hands.

“Okay, let's do it. Whatever come next, we'll do it ... together.”

Anna smiled in relief and led her to Grand Pabbie, holding one hand. They stopped in front of him and Elsa scrutinized him closely, looking at every square inch of the old troll and wondering how such a creature could even exist.

He was alive, there was no doubt about that, but his hair and eyebrows seemed to be made of dry straw and there even grew a small bundle of it out of his ears. His bulbous nose was unnaturally large and the small indentations in it, which were probably the pores of his skin, looked more like the surface of a weathered stone, as did his skin, which showed traces of moss. His moss mantle looked somehow ... fresh, as if it had been harvested in the morning dew and simply peeled off in one piece as a blanket from the ground. The transparent crystals he wore around his neck on a willow rod chain glowed from inside without any visible light source and it almost seemed as if this glow was pulsating slightly.

Finally she looked up into his night-black eyes and held her breath. His gaze seemed to penetrate her and literally nailed her to the spot. His eyebrows lifted and he stretched out his short arms towards her, palms up. He obviously wanted her to put her hands in his. She felt Anna's handshake and her thumb stroking the back of her hand.

She took her eyes off Grand Pabbie and instead looked at her sister questioningly. She now released Elsa's hand and nodded encouragingly. “Go ahead, Elsa. That's just his special way of finding out hidden things inside us. This way he can feel and see what's bothering us. He can help you with that,” Anna said and looked into the troll's face. “At least I hope so,” she then added somewhat more quietly.

Elsa hesitated but finally raised both hands and slowly lowered them onto Grand Pabbie's large four-finger palms. When she touched them, all she felt was a cold, rough surface and a gentle pressure as the troll embraced her hands and held them.

For a while, nothing happened at all, everyone just stood there and concentrated on what was happening. Grand Pabbie had now closed his eyes and his bushy eyebrows were drawn together in deep concentration. There was a tense silence.

Then the old troll suddenly moaned and stared at Elsa. “You really have a big problem, Elsa, and I'm afraid I can't help you. You're under some kind of spell. Someone with magical powers has blocked the access to your inner self along with your memories.”

~~~

---

To be continued ...

I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment if you liked the story, I would be pleased to read your opinions, even criticisms. If you want to be tagged as soon I publish the next chapter please let me know, except you are already tagged :-)

Tagging: @karma26 @whether-near-to-me-or-far @annaofthenorthernlights @igotelsapregnanthelp @the-fifth-spirit-elsa

#frozen #frozen2 #frozen3 #fanfic #epic novel #the broken bridge #part two #chapter 15 #bigfrozenfan

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sopafa · 3 years

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HAPPY 15-16 OF SEPTEMBER [Tales of Arcadia]

A little One-Shot ot the team celebrating a "Noche mexicana" on the Nuñes home.

====

It was an important day.

It was a very important day.

Even if the calendar didn't market it as one, at least for Claire and the Nuñez family, it was.

And the occasion was nothing less than the 15 & 16 de Septiembre. The date that remembered the independence day of Mexico, their cultural root home, and the origin of their latino offspring.

So, as they used to each year, the Nuñez Family organized a "Noche Mexicana", as they liked to say. That was nothing more than using a fancy Mexican term to say that they were going to trow a small -really big- party, with enchiladas, chiles rellenos, tacos, nachos, and montados, to celebrate the independence day.

Claire took advantage of the situation as an excuse to invite all the team to her home, and pass the night between drinks and laughs with everyone, as the really big family they were.

In the beginning, Aja and Krel were not very convinced at all, they were still struggling with all those "cultural earth traditions", but after a really romantic Steve asking his queen to go with him, Aja accepted exited. She would finally have another opportunity to have more "earth dates" with her Steve. Krel, on the other hand, was a little harder to impress, the "Guacamole" and other traditional stuff didn't steal his attention as Claire thought. Fortunately, Douxie helped convinced him, after saying that they could have a "guitar lesson" during the Noche Mexicana.

The idea didn't upset him, so he agreed.

Toby tried to maintain Jim's mouth close because the trollhunter was very excited, and he didn't stop to speak Spanish, with his horrible accent, and quotes off of context. It was annoying, but dam, Claire loves him too much.

The party began around that of 9 p.m.

Humans and Trolls coexisted happily on the Nuñes Home, even NotEnrique helped his "NotDad" to create cocteles on the bar, while the human prepared Piñas Coladas, Clamatos and Aguas-Locas-con-Tequila, the little changeling was creating his own cocteles for his fella trolls. Everyone in there was wearing a sarape, a poncho, or at least a Sobrero de mariachi, just to stay in "roll".

Even Nana danced a good part of the night with Varvatos, at the sound of the mariachis and las valadas.

Douxie joined the group of mariachis with his own guitar, to everyone's surprise, the songs sounded really good, combining the mariachi theme with rock. Something that no one expected at all. The main singer of the group was happy to see that there was more musician spirit around them, and the two other guitarists adjusted some space for the wizard to join his -now trio- of members, behind the singer.

The trollhunters team enjoyed the music, at least for a couple of songs more, until Jim started to signing. The human theft the singer position with a rose in hand, and looked at Claire with all the love of his heart, at the beat of "La Llorona". With a sweet tone, and his really marked accent, he stared so sing:

"Todos me dicen el negro, llorona. Negro, pero cariñoso-"

Was Jim-? Yes, he was doing a serenata.

A "Serenata" consists of a musical composition sung outdoors, normally a boy in love hires a group of mariachis, to sing outside the house of the girl he loves, as a form to please or praise her.

And he wasn't doing it badly at all.

Claire put her hands over her mouth in surprise and felt her cheeks burn out when Jim offered her the rose.

"Yo soy como el chile verde, Llorona. Picante, pero sabroso..." Jim took her hand. "La pena y la que no es pena, llorona. Todo es pena para mi-" They stared to dance.

Steve rested his head over Aja's shoulder. And Douxie slowly backed away from the love birds to Claire's mom without stopping playing.

"Does he-?" The wizard whispered.

"Nop. He doesn't know the meaning of the song". Douxie nodded with a small and holder a laugh before returning to his place.

"Cuando la vi pasar, hermoso huipil llevabas, llorona. Que la virgen te creí- Ay de mi llorona-!"

Douxie helped with the cores as the rest of the mariachis. "Ay de mi, llorona" They all said.

Slow and sweet steps were the ones of their vals, with their hands together and their bodies against each other, Jim spun her, and when the song finally ended, he planted a little kiss on her lips.

The little and beautiful interpretation of Jim left the bar open to others to sing with the musical group, so the serenata turned into some kind of karaoke. Krel -Diego Luna- was the next one on the file, with the theme of "The Apolgy Song". Steve and Eli sang "Tequila" -while the Mariachis singed the actual rest of the song-. Toby elected a more basic one: "La cucaracha". Claire rolled her eyes by their elections.

And when Douxie's turn finally came, there was quiet.

The wizard took a second to think, before taking a deep breath and scream from the top of his lungs the best Mariachi-scream that Mr. Nuñes had heard on years.

Then Hisirdoux started passing his fingers over the spellcaster, moving the strings according to a couple of chords that Mr. & Ms. Nuñez instantly recognized.

The Mariachis began to keep up with the boy.

"Un par de ojitos negros-" Hisirdoux began. Claire opened her mouth, not because of how well he sang, but because he was doing it in her mother tongue. When the fuzzbucket had Douxie learned Spanish?

When the core of the song started, it was a matter of seconds before everyone started signing with him, in group the well-known lyrics of "Cielito Lindo".

"Ay- Ay- Ay- Ay- Canta y no llores. Porque cantando see algran Cielito Lindo, los corazones".

They hugged each other and keep singing. Some of them, with their harmonical voices, others -As Jim, Steve, Blinky, Aaaarghhh & Toby- just screaming on the top of their lungs with all the happiness that tequila had given them.

At that moment, Claire felt lucky. Because she had the opportunity to spend nights like that with her family and friends.

And she wouldn't trade that moment for anything.

#douxie #hisirdoux casperan #douxie casperan #jim lake jr #claire nunez #toby domzalski #toa aja #toa krel #tales of arcadia claire #tales of arcadia #trollhunters #3 below #wizards toa

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furashuban · 3 years

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In Plain Sight

Another Hilda fic that I wrote on a whim after switching between reading the comics and tie-in novels all weekend.

Pairing: Frilda, Gen

Words: 1900+

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28722543

Summary: Frida attempts to use a newly learned spell to find Hilda after she suddenly disappears for the second time in a row.

Barely a day had gone by after Hilda and her mom were found escaping the Stone Forest. Yet seemingly overnight, Hilda had vanished from her home once again. Twig was still in the apartment, and Johanna was safe and sound along with Tontu and Alfur. But to everyone’s dismay, it was only the blue-haired adventurer who disappeared and left in her place was a humanized troll child to give a hint as to where she could have gone.

Feeling endlessly inquisitive, Frida asked David to come over to her place as they devised a plan to locate their friend, hoping to find out whether or not she was in mortal danger. The two were in Frida’s bedroom, sitting still on the floor with miscellaneous items surrounding them.

“So, you plan on using magic to find Hilda this time?” David asked.

“That’s correct.” Frida responded, skimming through long paragraphs of a manual she borrowed from Kaisa and Tildy. “We’ll be in even more trouble if we venture out of the wall during nightfall, especially if we get caught by the Safety Patrol. So we’re taking the secure route to look for Hilda first.”

“But why couldn’t we have done this before?!”

“Because last time, I was having trouble practicing another spell,” Frida looked up from her book, “and I hadn’t learned anything else that was useful in finding her. Not until tonight at least.”

As the night breezed in, a whole week had officially gone by since Hilda vanished. During the time spent over her disappearance, Frida continued with her private witch-training while her best friend remained all she could think about. Even for Hilda, there was no way that she could possibly be in the mood to go on a reckless undertaking, not after her and Johanna’s experience running away from trolls, and let alone one where she felt like heading out by herself. It was hard not to overthink about her safety, hence her anxieties became evident through the constant fumbling of a transformation spell she was being taught. Her frown and heart-struck eyes lingered on her complexion, followed by continual groaning whenever she failed to focus.

Tildy was quick to realize the troubles of her apprentice. She discerned Frida’s melancholy as one when a witch loses their closeness to a familiar. So without a moment too soon, the arch-sorceress decided to teach her a new incantation that further linked herself with Frida’s familiar, and one where neither an excess of time, patience and power was needed.

Going back to the present, a small mat was placed in-between Frida and David. Frida put aside her book and delved her hand inside a pouch of pollen, pinching some of the substance little-by-little and sprinkled them into a perfect circle on the mat. Next, she gathered four sodalite rocks and angled them around the pollen ring. The preparation to recite this new enchantment seemed like any other setup that Frida had previously done for more intricate spells, only that the witch-in-training appeared to be a lot swift in laying everything out.

“You seem pretty confident that this spell will work.” David said, remembering the time Frida turned Erik Ahlberg into a bug unintentionally.

“It has to.” Frida asserted. “Unlike my previous spells, this one involves trying it on someone I’ve been close with before I even trained to become a witch, and that should give me enough power to make this spell work. That’s what Tildy said to me anyway, and I believe it.”

When Frida stopped glancing through her items, David instinctively reached for a backpack and dug through its contents.

“Did you find the last thing that we need?” Frida inquired, offering her hand and waited to receive something.

David nodded. “It’s one of the things I see Hilda enjoy in our camping trips, so I thought it would qualify.” he brought out a personal possession from Hilda’s bedroom when he visited the apartment earlier in the day. Well, more like broke in with the help of his nisse.

It was a book written by Hilda’ favorite author, FORESTS AND THEIR UNFRIENDLY OCCUPANTS by Emil Gammelplassen, and David relinquished it to Frida so she could situate the novel in the center of the pollen circle.

“Now, with the item associated with my familiar, the spell I learned will have my eyes become theirs.”

“What does that mean exactly?” David asked bewildered.

“It means I will be able to see what Hilda is seeing, and then I can get an idea as to where she is.” Frida replied. “It won’t last that long, though, so hopefully she isn’t anywhere too in-the-dark.”

She took a deep breath and picked up her wand— the same shaft of a boat’s steering wheel that Hilda gave her all those months ago. Frida enveloped it with both hands and centered it around her chest with the tip pointing upwards. As she nodded and closed her eyes, her expression was more serious than ever. The moment of truth came as she whispered her new spell.

O bekant arbyuda vini...

O bekant arbyuda vini…

O bekant arbyuda vini...

Each recital of the spell grew louder until the pollen gleamed like a lantern. The four sodalite rocks also glinted with traversing blue mist within their surfaces, and together with the pollen they emitted a deep whirring sound. David observed the incantation with his posture raised and eyes opening up in astonishment. He half expected the room to suddenly blow up by an extreme gust of wind, even sensing falsely that a draft was brewing from beneath the ground. But as Frida recited the spell with more vigor for a final time, both the pollen and stones regressed to their natural image from before.

The room became uncomfortably silent. Frida was stuck to her position, and David hung around trying to resist his urge in asking what will happen next.

Suddenly, the inside of Frida’s head felt like it was spinning. Her jaw dropped and her eyes opened, revealing her pupils to be nearly heart-shaped and glowing a rose gold tinge, startling the boy in front of her. Frida did not see herself back in her room, but rather a hazy vision of being dashed down a mountain. To her surprise, even the sound of a girl muttering in fear could be heard. Frida could not doubt it; she was now sharing Hilda’s vision.

“She’s outside.” Frida spoke. “Hilda, can you hear me?”

Her best friend continued to run, not even stopping to call for Frida’s name to acknowledge her. It was worth a try though.

Hilda ran deeper and deeper into the wilderness, gasping quickly and repeatedly until she reached the base of the mountain. Secluded in its shadow, she looked back and caught a glimpse of a bellowing creature that hollered her name in the distance, then she hid herself by prowling through the bushes nearby. She turned again to see an opening that gapped between the ground and the mountain itself; a large, triangular cave that seemed to have been formed ages ago. Whether it led back into the Stone Forest or to some place new, it was her next route to survival and therefore sprinted towards the opening.

Trifling multi-legged vermin and cobwebs were scattered around the ridges of the cave, chilliness was all but absent inside. Her back was against the jagged wall as she peered from behind the corners. No longer did it seem as though she was being pursued, and she took another moment to catch her breath as many times as she could.

“I want to go home.” she cried.

Frida’s heart sank. She had never seen nor heard her friend so panicked and distraught before, and all she could do was watch instead of hurrying to comfort her. But something was even more off about Hilda. Perhaps it was the lack of light in the evening setting, but Frida swore that her arms and legs were as pale as a corpse.

On the spur of the moment, Hilda turned to see what lies beyond the cave. She got up and ambled towards a set of rocks which appeared to be reflective. The closer she got, the clearer her physique was shown on the rocks.

Her long blue hair had tinged to a much grayer shade, and her nose protracted like the pole of a birdhouse. But most distressing of all, her body was entirely made of stone; not a single trace of her humanity was to be seen. As Hilda watched a teardrop cascade on her cheek, Frida mimicked the distrait frown of her friend as they both gazed on the mirror.

“Why can’t I be changed back?!” Hilda exclaimed to her reflection angrily. “This is not at all how I wanted to move back to the wilderness! I do not want to be a troll!”

Her hand clenched into a fist and drew it backwards. Then, she forced it swiftly onto the rock until it had shattered, causing cracks and multiple reflections of a resentful Hilda to form. Immediately after the punch, Frida’s shared vision with Hilda grew progressively far-sighted until everything was merely a blurred spec. Her pupils no longer glowed and were shaped back to normal. And as the spell wore off, she shrieked timorously and knocked back on the floor.

David slithered around the mat and rushed to his friend. “Frida, what happened?” he asked frantically, picking her back up.

“I know where she is, kind of.” Frida stammered. “She’s out of the wall again, in a cave somewhere near the mountains for now but…” the longer she spoke, the closer she came to whimpering.

“It was so strange.” she continued. “It’s not possible but...I know I saw it. I even heard it. But why and how is she...did she get cursed or...UGH!”

She gripped her hair tight as she struggled to make sense of what she saw. “I don’t understand. How on earth did she become a troll?!” she breaks into tears from repressing her speech, not wanting the word “troll” to be overheard outside the room.

“Hilda became a what?!” David exclaimed.

More questions raised in Frida and David’s mind. Frida wished that she could have halted whoever, or whatever turned Hilda into a stone variant of herself. She wanted to be with her in the cave to protect her, and she hoped the spell could have done more than just see what a familiar saw. None of this was how she expected to find her. Everything felt better before she tried helping herself with the spell.

She sighed arduously. “Our best friend is a troll, David.” she snivelled, embracing the brunette tightly. In turn, David wrapped his arm around Frida and patted her back. He felt like crying too, feeling crushed in perhaps more ways than one, but he homed in on his friend’s dejection first and foremost as silence filled the air for a good long minute.

Frida then lets go of her grasp and rubbed her palms on her face. There was not enough time to feel frightened about having her expectations subverted. Her plan had been to know where and if Hilda was in danger, and all the boxes were checked.

“We need to tell Hilda’s mum where she is.” Frida said. “In case she runs off with Tontu and Twig to look for her again tomorrow, we have to tell her what I saw before she does.”

“Then let’s move.”

#hilda #netflix hilda #hildafolk #frida hilda #frilda #david hilda #fanfiction #my works #hilda the series

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alovesongshewrote · 4 years

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Almost A Thousand Years - Trollhunters/3Below | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot: You’ve known Hisirdoux Casperan for almost a thousand years. You’ve hated him for almost a thousand years. And for almost a thousand years, you’ve been cursed to feel each others pain. But somewhere in that time, things changed. [Hisirdoux Casperan x Mostly Gender Neutral but Probably Female Presenting Based on How Historical Men Treat Them!Reader]

Word Count: 1,445

Warnings: swearing i think?

A/N: Last chapter before we’re back to wizards

Tags: @furblrwurblr @rainningdoom @fluffydmonkey @blondie0458 @sitherin-mxschief

Back | Next

Jim Lake Jr.’s mom was really familiar.

Fortunately, she didn’t recognize you, even as you studied under her at the hospital and watched out for her son in your free time.

Protecting the Trollhunter was something you had stumbled into.

After your return from a place you’d rather not think about ever again, you found Arcadia. A safe little town in California where you could hide for the time being.

Then the trolls found you.

It wasn’t your fault that you’d nearly killed Blinky. He snuck up on you, and you were very jumpy. Fortunately, you’d figured out that you weren’t under attack before you could do any real damage. It wasn’t too long after that when you found out your new mentor’s son was the Trollhunter, protector of trollkind and slayer of Gumm-Gumms, wielder of the amulet created by your first mentor, Merlin.

This kid was in way over his head.

You had to protect him.

So, you helped to teach him how to use a sword, how to fight and how to survive. You helped his friend, Toby, to throw a decent punch and knock out a human opponent with pressure points. You were a cool older sibling who they could talk to about the stress of the job. And girls.

When Claire joined the party, you helped her practice magic. You helped her learn to control it.

You were quite the gang. One immortal, who everyone believed to be a college student, and three high schoolers in charge of kicking the darkness back to whence it came.

You protected those kids and their troll dads. You made excuses, forged notes, fought off Mr. Strickler, the whole nine yards. Somehow, you’d avoided sharing your past with the prying teens. They didn’t know you’d once been a Gumm-Gumm spy. You were just a cool mage who hung around for fun.

That all came crashing down when Bular crawled out of the woodwork, revealed your identity, almost killed your friends, and got you in a chokehold for a solid two minutes.

Centuries of work were finally paying off, he would, at last, have his revenge! He would regain his honour after being so shamefully defeated the last time he fought you.

Then Jim killed him. Rip.

You got your old sword back though. That was nice.

The trollhunter may have saved your life and given you your sword back, but the damage was done. You all avoided each other after that.

That was a lie, you were still looking out for these damn kids. You owed it to Barbara, who had grown up to be a fantastic doctor and who still had a few plastic bones in a box in the attic. She had been so kind and welcoming to you, you had to make sure her son came home every day. It was a difficult task when said son was all too willing to yeet himself into the Darklands, but you managed for the most part.

And when you heard a voice that followed you for centuries talking to your kids, it was the Darklands all over again. There was nothing you could do but watch.

You could have laughed at how much Jim hated Douxie. The kid had no idea he was telling a centuries-old wizard to go back to where he came from. You kept your eye on the conversation, waiting until it ended. Then, with no other choice available to you, you followed after the wizard.

How Douxie had built himself a life in Arcadia without you knowing was incredible and you respected the hell out of him for it. But you didn’t know if you loved it.

You followed behind him, silent as the night. And then you realised just what was happening. You stopped and went home after that.

And when you got there you screamed.

You screamed, and threw a sword at the wall, and broke several plates because this wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to see him again. Now he was in danger, and it was your fault.

You didn’t leave your house for a few days.

Then the teachers at Jim’s school went nuts, and you figured you should get back in the field.

You’d been monitoring Claire’s sudden illness from afar when he showed up again, this time a waiter at whatever restaurant this was. At some point, Claire left, and came back, and was acting... weird. Something was very wrong.

But that didn’t matter because there he was again. It was like you couldn’t escape him.

It was an active struggle to keep yourself away. Literally, an active struggle.

You’d tried to put it out of your mind, but the more you saw him, the more you remembered. The things that took you hadn’t only tortured you, trying to turn you into their full-time servant, but they’d also put some kind of spell or curse on you.

It was after the third one left if you remembered correctly. The remaining duo had been so angry, specifically at Merlin for some reason, so they put some kind of curse on you, forcing you to make attempts on Douxie’s life whenever he was in your general vicinity.

Why they went after Douxie instead of Merlin himself you’d never know. The wizard was an easier target while he slept, but nope. They went for Douxie.

You were confused, angry, and hurt. At both parties. You had been tortured for ten years. Had he not felt any of it? Had he not cared enough to help you? Or even stop your pain which he must’ve been feeling? It felt like a betrayal of sorts. He kissed you and then didn’t come for you when you were in danger. Was that all he wanted?

Even though you were upset by your apparent abandonment, you didn’t want Douxie dead. This wasn’t the twelfth century anymore, and you had to admit to yourself, you were still in love with him. You weren’t going to kill him.

So you clung to the roof, even after Douxie had left for the night. You stayed in place until the sun rose, struggling not to go after him. Eventually, you let go, moving on with your day, avoiding Hisirdoux Casperan to the best of your ability.

You actually did a decent job until the Eternal Night.

It was a pretty nasty battle, but you were handling it pretty well.

Or you were until you got yourself backed into a corner by yet another Gumm-Gumm calling you a traitor, probably facing certain death when someone struck the thing with a guitar.

“Casperan!?”

“(Y/N)!? What are you doing here?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, crawling to your feet, trying to keep yourself from throwing the sword in your hand at Douxie’s head.

“I- you’re right. Are you okay?”

“No, I-” your voice broke and you backed away further, “I’m not. Get away from me,”

You ran before you could see the pain leak into Douxie’s eyes before you could see the heartbreak on his face.

Ten minutes later the fight was finished.

A little after that, Jim and Claire were off to New Jersey.

You stayed behind.

Why did you do that? You asked yourself the same question. Staying in Arcadia put Douxie in danger and forced you into close proximity with the man who’d left you for dead.

But still, you stayed.

Maybe it was to protect Toby and Arrrgh, maybe it was because you liked your small apartment, maybe it was because you knew there was more trouble on the horizon. Or maybe it was because you were still in love with that stupid wizard.

You lost a lot of sleep over it. You saw his face in your sleep, thought of him when you practiced medicine. Every time you woke up from a war-related nightmare, you remembered how comforting his presence was. You remembered every hug he’d ever given you, the jokes he made, and that kiss. You remembered that kiss.

All you had was memories because if you even looked at his face, you’d kill him.

You did your best to distract yourself. You teamed up with Toby, Arrrgh, Steve, Eli and the Akiridions to stop an alien threat. It still wasn’t enough.

And when the alien threat was gone, you felt pain all over your body. It didn’t belong to you. You weren’t too alarmed, usually, torture was worse than this, but it kinda felt like Douxie had been dragged down the street by something for six(teen) blocks.

You were about to mention it when your posse ran into a familiar familiar.

“Beware! You, you! Are in grave danger!”

“Archie?”

#hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux imagine #almost a thousand years #aaty #trollhunters #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #toa douxie #toa hisirdoux

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accioromione · 4 years

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The Proposal

Ron’s heart was pounding. He was holding Hermione’s hand and was praying that she hadn't noticed just how clammy he was. Today was going to be the day he proposed to the girl he loved.

He had bought the ring two months ago, he had saved for it for five months, he knew Hermione didn’t care about how much the ring cost, but he did. He wanted to show her that he could give her the best, and that he could be the best, because she deserved the best. Ron wasn't particularly shy with being romantic, ever since they had gotten together he rather enjoyed taking her on spontaneous dates, or doing relationship like things. It was never too much because they were such good friends, that was the beauty of their relationship. They could be sappy and mushy one moment and have a light hearted or serious conversation the next.

He had told her that he wanted to go on a night stroll along the beach. Little did Hermione know what he had in store for her. He had set up balls lights around the beach, along with little notes that left a trail, the ending of these notes led the the destination of her proposal.

‘This is nice, it’s so beauiful outside too’ said Hermione resting her head on Ron’s shoulder.

Ron took in the sweet scent of her hair, and looked at the night’s sky. Hermione was right, not a cloud was in sight, the dark sky was covered with stars and the crescent moon shined bright. A light breeze touched Ron’s face and the North Sea made a soothing sound as its waves moved in a synchronized motions. Ron took the good weather as a good omen that tonight was indeed the right night, he smiled to himself as he thought not how Hermione would reprimand him about believing in good omens.

‘It is nice, so rare to not see clouds,’ Ron noted in regard to the clear sky. They kept walking and Ron took a deep breath, with a few more steps they would reach the balls of light.

‘Oh wow,’ Hermione sighed as they saw balls of light floating in the sky. This was it, there was no going back now. Ron took his hand from hers, and she looked at him, the light reflected in her eyes.

‘Ron, did you-?’ She asked looking again at the lights floating around, Ron smiled at her.

‘Don’t forget to look down too,’ Ron said, as Hermione admired the beauty of the lights floating.

‘Look down?’ Hermione asked, pointing her head towards the floor, and when she did, her eyes came into contact with the rose petals,

‘Oh Ron-’ sighed Hermione, ‘what’s this?’ She asked bending down to pick up a glowing envolope on the floor, she looked ahead and saw there were more envelopes trailing ahead.

She opened the envelope and it produced an image in the sky,

‘Ron wow’ she sighed, looking admiringly as the jet of light shot from he envelope, the image it produced in the sky was a moving image, it first showed he Hogwarts Express, then a club , then a book that said “Nicolas Flamel” on the cover page, then a chess piece, and then a potions set, it lightly faded in the night sky.

‘Hermione,’ Ron began, now taking her hand to guide her to the next envelope, ‘we have gone through so much together, I’m pretty sure we’re the only people in the world who can say our friendship was thanks to a troll attack.’

Hermione laughed, a tear now rolling down her cheek.

‘Ever since then we’ve been inseparable, going on adventures, defeating dark wizards since the age of 11.’ Ron said, slowly guiding her to the next envelope. They reached the second envelope and it opened, causing another jet of light to stream into the night sky.

This time the first image that appeared was polyjuice potion, and then the forbidden forrest, snake, and then a picture of Ron and Hermione in their second year.

‘When I was 12- I thought I almost lost you, the thought of it was unbearable even then. I thought I my fear of spiders could not be overridden, but my fear of losing you did. From that moment on I knew that you were a special and a vital component in my life and happiness.’

Hermione’s tears glistened down her cheeks and Ron now had a tear rolling down from his right eye, he guided her to the next envelope and she numbly followed. Hands trembling she opened it, and another beam of light shot into the night sky, this time the first image that appeared was Crookshanks, and the second image was a time turner and the third image was Ron and Hermione in hogsmeade for the first time.

‘Our third year was eventful to say the least. We fought about our pets. Mine turned out to be an evil human. The prisoner who escaped Azkaban turned out to be Harry’s godfather, you could time travel, and dementors were all over the place,’ Hermione laughed.

‘But all I know is that despite all that, when I look at third year- and when I think of a happy memory, it’s me going on that Hogsmeade trip with you.’ Hermione smiled, tears flowing down her face. Ron gently took her hand once more and guided her to the next envelope, she opened it and with a burst of light new images formed in the sky. The first image was the Triwizard cup, the second image was The Great Hall decorated how it had been for the Yule Ball and the third image was Ron and Hermione at the quidditch World Cup.

‘When I was 14, I experienced jealousy for the first time. I had known you were beautiful, so it did not phase me when I saw you walk down those stairs looking like a princess- I was angry, because I wanted to be by your side, I wanted to hold your hand, I wanted to dance with you.’ Ron said, and he squeezed her hand.

‘I was stupid, we can both agree on that,’ said Ron and Hermione smiled and nodded her head, ‘but I was also a bloke who had realized he had fell for his best friend,’ Ron added as he wiped a tear off of Hermione’s cheek. He gently guided her to the next envelope.

The pictures that erupted was one of Ron and Hermione at grimmauld place, Ginny, Fred, George, and Harry were also in the picture, but Ron and Hermione were sitting right beside each-other. Then a quidditch pitch appeared, then a picture of Dumbledore’s Army, and then a picture of the Ministry of Magic.

‘By the time I was 15 I had accepted my feelings for you, every time I spent with you I cherished. The moment you kissed me on the cheek, I felt like it was on fire, I felt pathetic. I was head over heels for you Hermione. And then it was getting dark, and we had to start fighting, and we both got hurt, but we both had each-other. Although I was sad you got injured, I just remember being so happy you were okay and it was you by my side at the hospital bed.’ He said as he guided her to the next envelope.

She opened it and this jet of light produced three images. The first one was a bird, the second one was a box of chocolates and the third one was Dumbledore.

‘Jealousy got ahold of me when I was 16 again, I was head over heels for you, and I felt like it was over, that you could never love me. That I was never going to be good enough for you. I thought I lost you, but then I got poisoned, and you were there, by my side, yet again. And I just remember feeling lucky and grateful that I had been poisoned, because it had brought you back. And then the reality of what was happening was all becoming real, and we knew a war was coming. I remember when we were fighting those death-eaters, all I could think was, don’t hurt her.’ Ron grabbed her hand and guided her to the next envelope, no other envelopes laid ahead of it, this was the last one. Compleley in tears, Hermione picked up to open it, and the jet of light shot out, brighter than the previous ones. The first one was a picture of them dancing at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, the second one was the deluminator, the third one Shell Cottage, the fourth one Hogwarts. Then the light faded, but instead of dissapearing completely the last bit of light burst in a fire work and a variety of pictures erupted, all much more recent ones. A picture of Ron and Hermione in hogsmeade again, when he had visited Hermione when she’d returned to Hogwarts, a picture of Ron and Hermione at the burrow, Ron and Hermione last Christmas, Ron and Hermione playing with Teddy, Ron and Hermione building a snowman, Ron and Hermione with Harry and Ginny, and then a ring.

After the ring appeared the light erupted in fireworks and Ron got down on one knee.

Hermione was in tears, her hand covering her mouth.

‘I knew I loved you when I was 17. The thought of losing you, of anyone hurting you, it was unbearable. The moment I left I was sick to my stomach, but the ball of light, it went to my heart to lead me back straight to you.’ He indicated towards the balls of light that surrounded them, ‘You are the love of my life Hermione, I knew I could fight a war, I knew I could battle dark wizards, I knew I could get tortured, and I knew I was willing to die. But not for a moment, was I ever willing to lose you. You have been my comfort, my friend, my everything. I love everything about you Hermione Granger, your beauty, your intelligence, your kindness and your passion. I love the memories we made, and all I want to do is make more. So in saying that ’ Ron said, taking a velvet box from his pocket

‘Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?’

Hermione was crying. She removed her trembling hands from her mouth, and whispered, ‘yes,’

‘Brilliant,’ Ron said, grinning with a tear in his eye. He put the ring on her shaking hand and stood up, the moment he did Hermione pulled him down into a deep kiss, he could feel the wetness of her tears on his cheeks.

‘I can't believe it!’ She squealed when they broke apart, ‘we’re getting married!’ she was smiling so radiantly, and the thought made Ron smile too. This was it, Hermione was his bride-to-be. They had both gone through so much together and now they would be living the rest of their lives together, as husband and as wife. The thought gave Ron a jolt in his stomach, and he leaned down to kiss his fiancee once more.

#ron x hermione #romione #ron and hermione #ronmione #ron weasley #hermione #hermione granger #harry potter #my fic

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loveislattes · 4 years

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Take You Away (DarkXGN/AFAB!Reader) Chapter 1

Commission prompt:

Dark/afab gn!reader: the reader is naturally submissive with a praise kink to end all praise kinks—dark likes to fluster & tease the reader with praise until all they can do is whine and whimper needily? Mixed with- DarkxReader- Dark is a mythical, eldritch, being who lures curious souls into his forest. Similar to InfelixXReader.

Alright, if you know my writing by now, you know I almost always gotta come up with a back story. So this first chapter is all world building and fluff.

Only warning for this first chapter is it talks about the death of a grandparent.

@underthedark13

@moriimae

@oi-fischfuck

@beck384

@book-of-roses

@therealcap

It was fitting, empathetic almost really. Grandma had cried herself practically empty and so the clouds above were drizzling their own tears for the family. A melancholic smile turned your lips up the slightest bit as you watched your grandma get up from her second home in the dirt of the small garden, wiping her hands clean on her old apron. It wasn’t until you realized she was going to attempt to carry the over-filled basket of vegetables that you finally sprung into action.

“Hey, why don’t you let me carry that?” you offered gently.

At first, you thought she was going to refuse your offer, that familiar stubborn look coming into her eyes until she relented with a sigh.

“I suppose,” she grumbled.

After handing off the basket, she took a few of the potatoes and carrots off the top.

You offered her a grand smile and said, “It’s the least I can do after lazing around and just watching you do all the actual hard work.”

“Yeah yeah.”

She waved you off and started toward the back door but not before you spotted the little grin she now had. It felt like a victory of epic proportions after how down everyone had been the past few days. The toll of your grandpa’s death had dealt a mighty blow, which is why you were staying an extra week at home with her. Not that you minded. You needed the break from work and it had been a long time since you’d seen her in person.

“You coming or not, child?” she chastised warmly from the doorway.

Chuckling and giving her a little shrug, you replied, “Yep, sorry! Got lost in my thoughts.”

It amused you to no end that, despite being over eighteen for however long, she still called you child just like when you stood at her knee height. Some things never changed. Just like how she stood at that same spot every night to cut up the ingredients for supper, and how she always kept her coffee mug just a little too close to the edge for your liking.

Setting the basket on the floor by the pantry, you slowly worked to get all the vegetables put away while listening to the steady chopping of the knife on the board and the gentle sound of her humming. The instant you were finished, you joined her at the counter.

“Uh-uh. You know I love you dearly, child, but you’ve been clucking around me like a mother hen all day. You and I both need a break. Leave me to do my work and go get some fresh air. Maybe go see if that Walmart boy you used to like so much remembers you.”

At the mention of your middle school crush, the Walmart greeter who was at least a generation older than you, you barely managed to hold in a cringe-laced groan.

“Uh, no thanks. I’m good on that front,” you muttered, rapping your knuckles on the counter rhythmically, “But I’ll find something to do.”

Before you had even finished the sentence, you knew exactly where you were going. You’d been dying to explore the woods outside the house since the day after the funeral but didn’t want to leave your grandma alone too soon. You’d spent most of your summers there as a kid until your parents stopped bringing you here.

“Go. Have fun. Act like the young adult you are and get into a little mischief. Not too much though!”

You slipped your jacket on and called out a reminder to your grandma that you were only a phone call away before running out the door. You noted, thankfully, that the slow drizzle from before had lightened up even more into a sparse sprinkle so you had the option of keeping your hood down. As your feet moved towards the familiar path through the back gate, your mind began to wander.

You knew it was a stupid hope. It had been over a decade since you’d last visited, so logically you knew that the little meadow you had claimed as your own so long ago might not even exist anymore, but you just had to see. Every summer when you’d come to stay with your grandparents, you’d spend hours upon hours in the woods exploring. The plentiful greenery served to be your escape from reality. You imagined colonies of fairies and hollows of trolls, eternal life springs, and animated Ents. At the center of it all had been the one and only imaginary friend in your childhood; a man named Dark.

As you got older you realized there had to be some psychological reason you had imagined a distinguished eldritch being in the forest named Dark as your friend for many years but you never did figure out the reasoning.

“To be fair, my childhood wasn’t that great,” you muttered to yourself.

While contemplating the psychological impact a rough childhood might have on one’s psyche and emotional growth, you continued on the long-familiar path, somehow traipsing carefully around every root and limb with precise muscle memory that shouldn’t even exist.

“Well, well, what do we have here? Little Mx. Red has come to see me again after all this time?”

The sudden deep voice nearly sent you careening to the side out of pure shock and terror. Your eyes swept from the forest floor to the clearing you hadn’t even yet noticed in front of you. And there he sat, the perfectly imperfect being of your dreams, in the same delicately grown throne of vines and limbs that you remembered from so long ago. Just as stunning as the first day you’d seen him.

“Dark?” you asked warily.

A sly smirk parted his lips as he tipped his head your way.

“Mx. Red.”

As your brain fought your tongue to find some semblance of words, your eyes danced over him and soaked in every visible inch. You didn’t quite remember him being so… attractive. Then again, you were a child the last time you had seen him. With his pristine white suit and contrasting black shirt, he painted a portrait of class, but his unshaven face and messy black locks gave off the exact opposite vibe. It would almost be funny how human he looked if it weren’t for the fact you were utterly transfixed. When he suddenly lifted a wine glass to his lips and took a sip, it broke whatever spell you had been under.

“Wait, you remember me?” you finally asked in return.

“I remember everyone that I promise to save.”

A little bout of excitement and embarrassment wriggled through your gut uncomfortably as you thought back on everything you ever told him. So many secrets. Blown way out of proportion thanks to a child’s view on life.

“Yeah, about that. I thought some stupid stuff as a kid. I wasn’t really being treated as badly as it seemed, at least not as bad-”

At an inhuman speed, the eldritch being leaped from his throne and came to stand mere inches from you, interrupting your train of thought and forcing silence to blossom in the slight space between your bodies.

“Don’t. Do not compare your plights to others. Their pain does not lessen yours,” he demanded roughly, “Alas, you seem to have forgotten that I was able to see into your head and verify your fears.”

With the touch of his fingers to your temple, suddenly you were transported back a decade: Tiny little you standing face to face with the kneeling man whose face was screwed up in concern. The strange little twirl of magic that danced along your skin and billowed your hair around you. The exhilarating excitement of being allowed tea parties with playful imps and fairies. The twisting feeling of defeat when you’d have to leave at the end of each summer.

Your legs went weak beneath you and your stomach felt like it was dropped miles below as you were suddenly back in your adult body. You braced for impact with eyes shut tight only to be yanked into the firm planes of another’s body. Through process of elimination, your mind brilliantly deduced that the only person who could be holding you was Dark and immediately your face began to burn hot. You jerked away quickly and he relinquished his hold with grace but kept a steadying hand on your shoulder.

“My apologies,” he spoke softly, “Are you okay now?”

A little nod was all you could manage in return but that seemed enough to soothe his worries.

“It seems that it’s been long enough since I’ve looked into your mind that your body has built up a resistance.”

“That’s… interesting?” you murmured uncertainly, “It might also be the shock of discovering that you’re actually real and not a figment of my imagination.”

He watched as you shoved your hands into your pockets nervously but didn’t say anything in return. The weight of his eyes was heavy and built the intensity brewing in your belly to a boil. So many conflicting emotions were assaulting your mind and body that you physically couldn’t handle much more than staring back at him just the same. And at the same time, everything was suddenly serene, down to the muffled humming of the forest creatures around you.

You weren’t sure how long it had been before the first chirping ring of your phone went off but suddenly you were alerted to the fact that you were standing much closer than you had been originally, a trembling hand halfway up to his face. Said hand instantly shot into your jacket pocket and brought your cell to your face.

“Uhm, h-hello?” you answered meekly.

“Dinner’s almost done. You coming back soon?” your grandma asked, the sound of a pot lid banging in the background.

“Sure thing. Be there in a few,” you replied.

When you looked back up at Dark after shoving your phone away, you were surprised to find him with a little smile on his face.

“Go. I will be here when you return. I’m always here,” he coaxed.

You licked your lips nervously before giving him and slight nod and saying, “I’ll be back in the morning. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

#darkiplier x reader #darkiplier fanfiction #gender neutral reader #afab reader #fluff #world building #good stuff in chapter two

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pearlplusau · 4 years

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Chapter 6 - Part 1, Trip down memory lane

At the crystal gem temple, the sky proceeds its early air breeze and pink hue, the sea proceeds to come and go, the sand proceeds its existence not as grains, but as a land.

The temple door glows, a thin stem but with pointy thorns glow rose from the midst of the door and separated the door left and right. From the pink glow, out comes Coral, stretching and yawning from lying on her neat pile of pink fabric for a few hours. As she walks out of the door, she sees Rose, the leader of the crystal gem, in her glorious white dress and thick fluffy, curly pink hair, standing right at the foot of the warp pad.

“Morning Coral~!” she called out with a tone that makes you think she’s a Disney princess in the woods, “Ready for our new day planned?”

“Of course! What did you have in mind?” Coral questioned, but still standing at the doorway.

“Well, before we actually go, can you recall anything from the, “incident”?” Rose formed her words very carefully, hoping that it won't upset her dear pearl.

“Hmm…” Coral tried to remember, she really does, but all there was between her leaving and coming back on the shore was pitch black, nothing.

It’s been a week since the incident, Coral still couldn’t recall what happened to her, facing some sort of memory loss. “I…I just can’t remember, the only possible reason why I left in the middle of the night is to go for a midnight fabric shopping?”

Rose was worried for her, she even consulted Garnet if there’s anything she saw that involves Coral’s sudden disappearance.

Garnet, the fusion with extraordinary abilities, was unable to see how she couldn’t foresee the incident, nor could she see any upcoming battles or fights in the near future. She’s becoming more frustrated, which decreases her vision clarity day by day. “There wasn’t anything on the night she left, and there isn’t anything dangerous that could be coming our way, or maybe there’s something I’m not factoring in? Hmmm…”

Hearing Coral’s response was not gonna ruin their day planned. For the past week, Coral was invited by Rose to different places, trying to see if there’s any way she can remember anything, but so far, no luck.

“It…it’s okay, don’t worry about that too much.” Rose tried to reassure, to herself more than to Coral. “Let’s start the day, shall we?”

“Ok, where are we going today?” Coral asked, fully awake. They travelled to many places for the past week, and everyday it's somewhere rarely visited, but the experience in travelling with Rose is very, very new.

Rose started to say, “Well, for today, we’ll be-“but she was interrupted before she could finish.

“Pardon the intrusion,” It was Pearl.

Pearl poked her head in from outside, trying her best not to interrupt but failed, “Rose, can I talk to you for a moment?” Rose turned and saw Pearl, who was trying her best not to throw any daggers at the other pink gem’s direction. “There’s the matter of… corrupted gems. Garnet foresees two giant gem-worms, trolling around the old kindergarten, and she said the best outcome from the capture requires you to be there.”

Pearl however, was initially more concern with Coral and her every step, but after a day or two she got very much over her guilt and tries to forget the incident ever happened, she resumed disregarding her in the more dangerous missions with Garnet, even though she was not keen in breaking her promise to the team leader.

The leader of the crystal gems gently refused the mission, “Apologies my pearl, but I should really focus on Coral’s situation right now, if we don’t find out where or what happened to her, the same thing might happen to the rest of us, and I would not wish for anyone else to suffer whatever Coral went through.”

“But Rose, just look at her, she’s fine, she wasn’t hurt, the warp pad to homeworld is still disabled, there's nothing else for us to worry about.” Pearl tried to reason with the big gem, but her heavy, dark eyes told her there's nothing that she can say that would change her mind.

“I’m sorry Pearl but it looks like you and Garnet are going to take care of the gem monster, I’m sure you two can handle it without me.” Rose threw a quick glance at Coral, urging her to follow her elsewhere.

“Come on Coral, we’ll talk on the way there.” She led the pink gem on the warp pad and they both warped away.

The path taken is a lot more... dangerous than the previous adventures they had.

The duo walked until there's a giant mountain of a wall in front of them. Rose gestured to Coral to climb the steep mountain.

“Uhm, Rose, you didn’t have to spend so much time for me, Pearl and Garnet need you more on the gem hunt.” Coral looked nervous, scratching her head, and trying to look away from her leader.

“But, Coral, you're not a waste of time if that’s what you're thinking, your problem is just as important as the gem monster, who’s probably harmless since there's no humans or other earth critters around there.” Rose reassured the pearl and they to climb up the mountain.

It was a long climb, but Coral was upbeat and a lot more energetic after being reassured, and they got to the cave full of Rose’s weapon collection.

“Huh, can’t believe we would need to come back here after the war, '' she watched as her leader walked to the white platform covered in water, a hand size pedestal rose up to the pink gems waist. Rose placed her hand on the top of the pedestal and concentrated, “I’m not looking for weapons, armour, or anything for battle, I just need something that can help me and my situation.”

Behind Coral, a small white box rose up to her ankle.

“Uhh, Rose, is this what you’re looking for?” Coral called out and got her leader’s attention.

Rose turned to where Coral stood, “I…I think so.”

They examined the small, palm sized box, it was the size of Coral’s gem, but somehow heavier, there was a little mark for the box to be opened.

Rose opened the lid, and peeked the inside of the box.

It’s….

“A pebble?” And sure enough, it was a small, oval rock that hasn’t been incubated or dripped with any diamond essence.

“You know,” Coral carefully paused and observed the stone, said, “This pebble looks so familiar, doesn’t it remind you of someone? I know I mentioned that I can't recall recent events, but the great memories we had in our past lives is still something I can never forget.”

She slowly raises the pebble up to her eye level, hoping Rose would marvel the stone along with her. But something was not right…

Coral turned to her leader, hoping for some kind of reaction, but she was surprised to see the shocking darken expression of Rose Quartz.

“Uhm, Rose, are you… alright?” the pearl questioned.

She could see the big gem was holding on to something, holding it back. It was still daylight, but being inside the cave made it felt, dark. There were the sounds of water drops dripping from the ceiling poles, “Drip……. drip…….. drip….” into the clear, shallow pool.

Moments later, Rose’s expression shifted from stiff and dread to….hope?

“Why yes Coral, I think I am…” Her hope slowly transitions into, joy? “You know, one of the pebbles back at homeworld looks just like this one.”

Coral was glad she wasn’t being rude by mentioning their past lives. “Ohhh, the one with the green outfit? What was the name, Pebble 2TJ?”

Rose looked, actually thrilled! “Oh yeah, he’s always doing this neat cartwheel all around the room, it looked so fun, heyhey, what if…”

Rose was rather hyped, she got so excited she decided to do the cartwheel, for the first time.

She extended her arms and legs, forming a star figure, and said to the pink gem on the left, “Hey Coral, look at this!” She tilted her whole body to her right, but her hand didn’t catch the total amount of her body weight and slipped,

THUD! Rose quartz collapsed on the floor.

“Ohno! Rose!” Coral panicked and went to the fallen pink gem, “Rose! Are you alright?”

Rose, who positioned herself on her back to ease the pain, she giggled and said, “Yes, I think I'm fine.”

She proceeds to stay on the floor, Coral wasn’t sure what to do, “Uhm, Rose, do you need help getting up?” Coral asked.

“Oh no need, in fact, you should come down with me, we’ve been standing for a long time, and my legs are a bit tired anyway.” She sat down next to her leader.

“You know, that fall reminded me of another time we had, when we tried to balance the throne on a giant ball to make it bouncy, but it somehow ended up on fire or something, what fun times we had.” Rose chuckled at the amazing memories they made together.

Coral decided to add on to favourite moments and said, “Remember when you got your leg ship? You were so happy you grabbed me by the waist and spun me around, and I didn’t even mind, it was such a fun time.”

The pearl peeked at the big gem, who was peeking into the box under the pebble.

“Oh look, in the box, there's three sticks in white, yellow and blue respectively.” Each stick has a shape of the respective diamonds, the blue and yellow stick have their diamond placed in the middle, and the white stick has its on the top.

“Huh…” Coral took a closer inspection of the three items and asked, “What are these? And why do you have them?”

Rose was scanning through her memory bank, they do look familiar… “I think these are from the early stages of the earth colonization, I got so bored on the moon I think I asked Pearl if there was anything we could do, she said the game was from an earth citizen back in the day.”

Rose went on about the game. “Pearl announced the game as gem refiguration, we picked them up, and imitated the gems in their tone, actions and their voices. There’s this one time where I made the white stick talk like White, Oh Starlight, there you are! Did you have fun? Did you get it all out of your system? And then Pearl would chuckle at my little fake white voice, saying that I sound just like her. We would play as the other diamonds too, Pearl knew Blue and Yellow’s pearls, she even did their voices! I would hold up a yellow stick, making it command in Yellow’s voice, then pearl would do her little hologram thing and say things their pearls would say, Now how is my wonderlous, amazing, everlasting diamond? Is there anything I can do for you? And we would both chuckle and giggle as we are indirectly making fun of them without them knowing! And- Coral whats wrong?”

Rose slowly noticed the discomfort as the story went on, she went from being interested in listening, to losing the smile, to worrying eyes, to a sudden darkened face.

“Oh! It's…it’s nothing, it’s just…as I was listening, I couldn’t help but wonder where I was while it all happened…”

“Well, you would be there obviously, just…not with us?” Rose scratched her head, hoping to retrieve some form of adequate response. “You were right with me, but you got bored a bit earlier and kinda fell asleep? We didn’t want to bother you so we just... played it on our own…”

Coral had her left hand scratching her right arm, “So…You guys had fun…. without me?”

Rose slowly realizes the pain she’s causing her dear pearl, she wanted to say she misspoke but Coral got to her first.

“Nonono, it's fine, i…I guess, I just, never thought….”

She turned to her side, arms holding her knees to her chin, and laid on the floor, trying to think this through.

Rose tried to reach her hand out, she wanted to assure that game was nothing, but deep down, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead she retracted her reaching hand, and placed it to her side, giving Coral some much needed space.

It was awfully quiet for the both of them, the sticks had scrambled around with the box on its side, only the pebble remained in the box. Rose collected the items and put everything back where it was, and sat by the water alone.

Coral noticed the shift of her leader, and followed her by sitting next to her by the water.

Rose and Coral looked at their reflections in the water, they stared at the water for a long time, until…

“Remember the first day you came to me?” Rose spoke while looking at Coral’s reflection, hoping she would do the same.

“It was some time after I saw Blue and Yellow’s pearls, I saw how considerate of them with their diamonds, how they were always with their diamonds, standing by their side no matter what. That’s what I wanted, someone who can listen and understand.”

Coral gleamed at the idea, and commented, “Yeah, Us spending time together was the best, but then, someone else came along…”

Oh dear, Rose thought, is it the reason for the memory loss, trying to forget certain aspects of her life? The pearl continued, “Maybe I wasn’t doing my part right? Maybe you weren’t satisfied with my service back then? And, that’s why she came to….”

Rose didn’t need to hear the end of the sentence, she already knew what she was going to say.

Replace me…

Rose couldn’t take anymore of her sadness, she turned to the pearl, grabbed on her shoulders, and hugged her tight. “Oh Coral, I'm so sorry I made you feel this way, i should’ve been more considerate. But when Pearl came in, I was… told to spend more time with her, to get to know her, so she wont feel like an outsider when she’s with us.”

Coral slowly returned the hug, burying her face into her leader’s hair, wishing she could stay there forever. But it was getting late, and they should really head back.

“Come on, let's go home.” They left the cave, went down the steep mountain, and back on the warp pad.

Back at the temple, the duo was met up with Pearl and Garnet back from their mission. The two gems were covered in sand and dust.

“Ah, Pearl and Garnet, how did the mission go?” the crystal gem leader turned to her fellow comrades and asked.

Garnet shrugged, dusting off the dust from her shoulder, “Could’ve been better.”

Pearl echoed, “Could have…”

Coral noticed Pearl’s defeated sigh, but Rose didn’t take much notice, “Excellent, If anyone needs me I’ll be in my room.” And marched straight to her cloudy pink room and promptly shut the door within a swift second.

She heavily leans on the door, “Why did it hurt so much?” Rose thought as she leaned against the closed door, her fist on her chest, trying to ease a pain.

Garnet decided to go out and take a walk, leaving the 2 pearls at the temple.

Coral was still in her hyper fun mood as she was humming, twirling and just being happy, something she hasn’t been in a long time. Standing on the side, watching her was Pearl, arms crossed, and generally not looking as happy.

She slowly approached the pink gem, and gained her attention with a slight cough.

“Ahem,” and slowly moves her fist away from her mouth.

Coral, still looking pleased, and not getting the pragmatic signs, lovingly asks, “Oh hey Pearl! What’s up?”

“You know this will pass eventually don’t you?” Pearl spoke, trying her best to not sound rude, but came off as a rather cruel statement.

“Huh?” Coral turned around, and hadn't really noticed Pearl during her time with Rose. “Wha…what are you talking about?” Coral questions in a strain voice, sounding almost hurt, but Pearl didn’t take notice.

“I think you know what I’m talking about, your small, brief attention hogging from Rose. She may be worried sick about your absence and the possible chance your encounter threatens what’s we’re fighting for, but for all we know, you could just be deceiving us, deceiving her just to keep her all to yourself.” Pearl’s accusation of Coral surprised the pink gem.

She tried to defend herself, “Pearl, you’re not making any sense. Why would I want to lie to Rose just to get close to her? We were just hanging out and having fun...”

“No more lies,” Pearl interrupted, “instead of trying to sweet talk your way out of this mess, why don’t we try something, physical?” She reached her hand to her glowing gem and conjured her staff, swifting the point to the tip of Coral’s nose.

“Coral! I challenge you to a duel at the sky arena, pearl vs pearl. If you win, I’ll let you off on your little scheme and you may…continue deceiving our leader without me getting all over your business.”

She did a slight thrust and pointed the tip between Coral’s eyes, forcing her to back off and smack the weapon aside.

Pearl retracted her weapon and twirled it all around her while she proceeded, “But if I win, you’re going to halt your devious act and leave the rebellion for the rest of time, you are to resign as Rose’s left hand soldier and never come back. Your disloyalty has already stripped you of your trust in the Crystal Gems, if you will not accept this challenge, I have no choice but to take you down before you do anything else, do you understand!?”

Coral stood and composed herself, she knows how serious Pearl takes her battles with anyone, so she can’t deny it, but she also knows how skilled of a fighter Pearl truly is. They may have trained together, but Pearl was always the fast learner, she also has a strategy for literally anything, so other than the duel, there’s probably something else she’s not revealing.

Coral took a deep breath, exhaled as she fixed her eyes at Pearl, and drew her lance.

CLANK, the weapons were intact.

“I accept your challenge, Pearl.” Coral said with as much determination she could muster.

“Excellent,” Pearl returned her staff into her gem, and slowly walked away while stating, “We shall battle at the breaking dawn of tomorrow, sharpen your lance, as well as your mind.” And then ballerina twirled into her room.

Coral watched as the temple door closed off, her lance planted between her feet as she said to herself, “I’ll be ready.”

End of Part 1

(A/N: Heyyo, welcome to the end of part 1 of chapter 6, first off, to clear something up. If you were somehow questioning my ability to draw, then yes Ii did some tracing on certain screenshots of the show, to make everything go faster. If for every part, I drew just 4 images without tracing, it would take at least 2 more months for me to finish it. So please, i'm not making money out of this, and the artwork isn't the main feature, just a visual assistant for the reading process.

Also thank you @marzipanotaku16 for being my “beta reader” and doing a great job at pointing out certain areas that can do better!

So from the previous post, the next chapter will be uploaded next week from today! Unless, and it's just an idea, unless the first part of chapter 6 got more than 80 notes, then I'll consider posting the next part earlier. But that's just an idea I'm not sure that would be fulfilled. (It might be tho)

Lastly, the reference for the drawn images will be reblogged the next day.

Anyways, see ya next week, or earlier! Peace out! Bye!

#pearlplsuau #stevenuniverse #writing #rosequartz #pinkpearl #Pearl #Coral

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mikauzoran · 3 years

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Lukadrien: Among the Wild Things: Chapter Five

Read it on AO3: Among the Wild Things: Chapter Five: Unity

Rose spent the morning dragging Adrien around the town at the center of the enchanted wood, helping him shop for new clothes and other personal items.

Adrien bit his lip nervously as Rose produced gold coin after gold coin to pay for their purchases. He wasn’t sure how much the goods were worth in mortal money, as he had never had to pay for anything before in his life, but he had the feeling that this shopping trip was expensive, and he was beginning to feel guilty.

“Rose,” he called tentatively as they left the second tailor’s shop. “Is there any way I could get some sort of employment, do you think?”

Rose arched an eyebrow at him. “I mean…maybe. I wouldn’t recommend it, but… Why do you ask?”

He lowered his head and his voice. “I just feel really bad. I didn’t mean to become a financial burden, so…I was hoping there was some way I could earn money to pay the family back and contribute somewhat.”

Rose openly laughed at the idea, reaching up to give his ear an affectionate tug. “Oh, Dri. You’re so cute. No, no, no. There is absolutely no need for you to go get a job. Just learn how to do practical things like cooking and cleaning and fixing things and help out around the house. That’s more than enough.”

He was very tempted to take her at her word and let it go, but he still felt like he wasn’t doing his part in comparison with everything the Couffaines were doing for him. “But…I’m sure it costs a great deal of money to keep an additional person fed and clothed. Are you certain I’m not a financial drain on the family?”

She laughed again and shook her head. “Dri, Anarka is clan leader for this whole district. We have plenty of money. Even with all that we’ve spent today, there’s still more than enough left for us all to live very comfortably for decades to come.”

Adrien’s eyes went wide, and he stopped walking. “Wait. You mean… Is Anarka, like…the queen of the fairy kingdom?”

“Not the whole thing,” Rose snickered, endlessly amused by her new mortal brother. “We don’t really have royalty. At least, not in this country. We have Parliament and a Prime Minister here. Anarka is kind of a big deal, though. She’s the appointed representative for this whole district, our ‘clan leader’. She runs things for the area, makes sure that resources are distributed fairly, mediates disagreements…that kind of thing. When all the clan leaders get together to discuss policy matters, she goes and represents our district, so…I don’t know if you humans have anything like that, but that’s what Anarka does.”

Adrien nodded in awed silence, rolling the ideas around in his mind as they began to walk again.

“So, you’re not a burden,” Rose summarized, tugging him towards a third tailor’s. “Come along. We need to get you an outfit for the ceremony tonight.”

Adrien was incredibly nervous as Rose helped him get ready for the ceremony.

She went over the proceedings several times with him, slowly walking him through every step so that he would know what to expect and what would be expected of him.

It still didn’t prepare him for how beautiful the ceremony was and how emotional the whole thing made him.

After sunset, along the bank of Anarka’s lake, the fair folk of the district gathered, seated in rows with a wide aisle between the two sections, not unlike the main aisle of the chapel on the castle’s grounds back home where Adrien was supposed to have gotten married to some duke or another’s daughter.

The clearing was lit with floating orbs of light that looked like fireflies or stars hovering overhead. The trees had been draped with blue, green, and yellow ribbons, and a canopy of vibrant flowers was suspended as if by magic over the spectators.

Anarka was waiting at the end of the aisle to perform the ceremony, dressed in her official clan leader robes.

Luka, looking somehow even more ethereal than the day when Adrien had met him, walked down the aisle first, accompanied by Juleka who proudly carried the red ribbon that would be used to tie Luka and Adrien’s hands together to symbolize their unity.

“Our turn,” Rose whispered once Juleka and Luka had reached Anarka, slipping her arm through Adrien’s and coaxing him down the aisle.

Adrien knew that hundreds of eyes were upon him, but he couldn’t feel their judgmental stares. All he saw was Luka: radiant, handsome, beaming, lovestruck Luka who was looking at Adrien as if he were the sole reason the sun rose in the morning and the stars came out at night.

Adrien floated down the aisle in a trance, and once he reached the end, Luka pulled Adrien into his arms, giving him a squeeze and letting their foreheads rest against one another for a private moment that lasted an eternity.

“Love you,” Luka whispered, not caring who saw how besotted he was with this mortal boy.

“Love you too,” Adrien chuckled, savoring this little pocket of time.

Too soon, they pulled back so that only their hands were joined, and Anarka started the traditional rites.

Anarka spoke for several minutes about love and partnership and respect and supporting one another, but Adrien didn’t hear any of it.

He was too busy drowning in Luka’s presence, trying to memorize the exact shade of aquamarine of Luka’s eyes, the tilt of Luka’s lips as he smiled lovingly back at Adrien, the way the mystical firefly light highlighted some parts of Luka’s face and cast others in shadow, the warmth and weight of Luka’s hands in his own…

Adrien only realized that Anarka had stopped talking when she cleared her throat, looking at Luka expectantly as she silently laughed with her eyes.

“Stop ogling your prince and recite the pledge already,” Juleka prompted with a fond eyeroll.

Luka gave a start and blushed as he came back to himself. He took a deep breath and bashfully recited, “I pledge myself to you, to be your partner in all things, to be your support and your shelter, to forever be on your side, never to trick or deceive you, and to respect and love you always, in this life and the next.”

All eyes turned to Adrien who took a shaky breath and nervously repeated the vow.

His voice cracked, and Luka gave his hand an encouraging squeeze.

They shared a tender smile, and Adrien finished strong with utter conviction in the words, “to respect and love you always, in this life and the next.”

The final part of the relatively quick ceremony (Rose had explained that this was because the afterparty was the main event for the fair folk and that the dancing, drinking, and feasting typically went on until dawn) was the tying of the hands.

Juleka stepped forward and held out the red ribbon to Anarka who gently wrapped it round and round Luka and Adrien’s intertwined hands, saying, “The string of fate now binds you together. You are one. Remember the oaths you pledged one another today, and do no purposeful harm, always act in the other’s best interest, be faithful and true, and never let anything come between you. You are one. Your mate is your other self. Remember that well so that you do not destroy yourself from the inside out. You are one.”

“Now kiss!” Rose stage whispered excitedly.

Adrien stepped in, pressing his mouth firmly to Luka’s ready and willing lips.

Luka responded eagerly as the applause of the gathered crowd faded into the background unnoticed as the couple focused every fiber of their attention on one another.

Slowly, Luka pulled back and gave Adrien’s cheek a reverent lick before carefully leading Adrien back down the aisle.

Adrien happened to catch glimpses of the expressions of some of the creatures who had gathered to celebrate their union. Some looked bored or indifferent, and others were scornful, but the majority of the faces Adrien spied as they made their exit seemed to be wearing positive expressions.

Adrien hadn’t been sure exactly what to expect. The fair folk he’d met earlier that day on his shopping trip with Rose had seemed pleasant enough, but the way Juleka had talked about the idea of Luka marrying a mortal and what the community would think hadn’t left Adrien optimistic…but maybe things would be okay after all.

They made it to the end of the aisle, and Anarka, Rose, and Juleka soon followed to help them untie their hands as the congregation started to file out on their way to the afterparty.

Adrien was introduced to over a hundred people and had a hard time keeping up with names, but most people were nice and repeated their names several times without being asked, and Luka and Rose made sure to say people’s names over and over throughout conversations to help Adrien out.

The banquet was delicious with dozens of dishes spread out on a long table by the lakeside that seemed to magically refill itself whenever the serving trays ran low.

The firefly orbs hovered overhead, and the guests gathered around bonfires to eat and mingle, giving the clearing a warm, cozy atmosphere.

Luka stayed close at Adrien’s side the majority of the night, but he occasionally got pulled away by some important person or another who had known him since he was a child and wanted to talk to him one-on-one to impart sage advice. At those times, Rose swooped in to play chaperon so that Adrien was never without a familiar face.

Adrien slowly began to feel like he had his feet under him as the night went on, and he even started to make friends. Ivan and his sweetheart Mylène were trolls from the foot of the mountain not far off from Anarka’s lake, and Ivan had been playing in a band with Luka, Rose, and Juleka for some time. Mylène was close friends with Juleka and Rose and very sweet and welcoming to Adrien.

It turned out that Alya, a fox spirit, was extremely curious about human beings and had often snuck away to visit the town surrounding Adrien’s castle. She and Adrien had a long discussion about human customs that Alya had always found fascinating but never understood.

Kim (a selkie), Max (a nix), Alix (a lamia), and Ondine (a siren) came from a lake on the other side of the trolls’ mountain and were all in some kind of polyamorous relationship with one another. They were very friendly, and Adrien had a good time talking with them and watching as Kim and Alix competed with one another, seeing who could eat more bite-sized yuzu tarts in one minute, who could fit more dates into their mouth at once, and who could swim more laps of the lake. Ondine joined in this last contest and won.

Adrien decided to participate when they competed to see who could swim down to the bottom of the lake the fastest. He lost by quite a bit, but everyone gave him credit for his efforts despite being at a clear disadvantage.

They were all laughing on the lakeshore when Luka found them.

“Do you guys mind if I steal my mate back from you?” he chuckled, smiling proudly at the fact that Adrien had managed to make friends.

“Actually, we’re thinking about annexing him,” Max joked, and his mates all joined in, affirming this assertion.

“Not funny,” Luka snorted, reaching down to pull Adrien up to his feet. “Mine,” he announced, wrapping his arms around Adrien and nuzzling his neck possessively.

“Luc,” Adrien chuckled. “They’re not serious. Relax,” he coaxed, turning around in Luka’s arms to give his cheek a dutiful lick. “You’re the only one for me.”

“Aww,” Ondine and Rose chorused while Alix made gagging sounds at the romantic display.

“Go ahead and go do nasty, couple-y things,” Kim snickered, waving them off. “You have our blessing, but know that we’ve got our eyes on your sexy human boy.”

“You are so crude,” Max sighed, shaking his head in fond exasperation as he patted Kim on the shoulder.

“Come on, Love,” Luka called gently, tugging Adrien away.

“It was nice meeting you all!” Adrien called back to them. “We’ll have to hang out again some time.”

“For sure!” Alix answered for them all.

“I’m glad you’re making friends,” Luka remarked as he led Adrien away from the crowd, into the woods.

“Me too,” Adrien chuckled giddily. “I think I mentioned before that I wasn’t really allowed to interact with peers much back at court. I mean, Chloé and Kagami and Lila were kind of sort of my friends, but…it was more in name only most of the time. Chloé and Kagami were a little closer to me, and we did connect sometimes, but…I didn’t really feel like I could be my true self with them. Their expectations were a little restrictive. I was really only myself in front of Nino and Marinette, but the crown prince isn’t really allowed to hang out with his guard and his seamstress, so… It means a lot to me to finally be able to freely interact with people,” he summarized.

“I’m so glad that you’re finally getting this opportunity,” Luka stressed as he came to a stop in a small clearing where the glow of the bonfires and fireflies just barely reached.

Adrien took a moment to look around curiously in the dim lighting. “So…what brings us here?”

“Nothing in particular,” Luka explained, sheepishly scratching at his cheek. “It’s just a secluded place, and I haven’t been truly alone with you since we left our room this morning, so…can you really blame me for wanting to be alone with my—what’s the human word for it again? Husband?”

“Husband,” Adrien agreed, pulling Luka into his arms and giving his throat a slow lick.

Luka shivered, letting out a low nicker of pleasure.

“I love that sound,” Adrien hummed happily.

“I’ll be sure to make it more often,” Luka chuckled, nuzzling Adrien’s hair.

“Mm,” Adrien agreed contentedly, savoring the sensation of having Luka in his arms. “…I feel like I’m living in a fairy story.”

“Is that a good thing?” Luka had to wonder.

“Mmhm,” Adrien confirmed. “In the stories my mother used to tell me, the princess always escaped from her evil stepmother’s clutches and found her prince and lived happily ever after. Now, here I am escaping my father’s plan to make me miserable and force me to be just like him, marrying my kelpie prince, and on my way to living very, very happily with him.”

“I’m not a prince, though,” Luka chuckled.

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Clan leader’s son. Whatever. Same difference.”

“Not really. My mother is an elected official,” Luka clarified, delighting in teasing his mate and seeing him pout. “The power of her office doesn’t extend to me.”

Adrien looked up at Luka and glared, “Orpheus, stop poking holes in my personal fairy story with your dumb facts. I’m trying to be a starry-eyed romantic over here. Where’s Rose?” He looked back at the crowd of revelers, trying to spot his sister-in-law. “She would get it.”

“I get it. I get it,” Luka protested, pulling Adrien back in close. “I was just teasing. I’m sorry.”

“Meh. I guess I forgive you,” Adrien snickered. “But only because it would be lame to be mad at you on our wedding night.”

“I thought last night was our wedding night?” Luka chuckled. “Didn’t we get married yesterday?” He hummed as he ran his fingers over the impromptu ring that Adrien still wore.

“Yes,” Adrien decided in a measured tone, “but tonight is too. Yesterday we celebrated like my people. Today we’re celebrating like your people so that it feels legitimate to both of us; therefore, we get two wedding nights.”

Luka bit his lip as he considered Adrien’s words. He pulled back to meet Adrien’s gaze as he hesitantly remarked, “You seem a little insecure about the legitimacy of our union. Are you okay, or is this something you want to talk about, or…?”

Adrien looked away, training his gaze on the party guests. He breathed a deep sigh as he replied, “…I don’t know. It’s just that almost all my life I knew I didn’t like girls like I was supposed to. I was always so scared that someone would find out, and I was always so jealous of the princesses who had been born ‘right’ so that it was okay for them to fall in love with and marry princes, so… Where I come from, what I feel for you is wrong. Expressing our love together is a crime, so…if you were a human like me, this wouldn’t be possible. I couldn’t be your husband, and we’d have to sneak away together in shame and hope that no one ever caught us because they would kill you and lock me up in a tower until they found some suitable woman to marry me off to, so…”

Adrien took a big breath and looked back at Luka with tears beading in the corners of his eyes. “So, yeah. I’m kind of insecure about the legitimacy of our union because, where I come from, our union isn’t legitimate. I never thought I’d be able to have this with someone I love. I thought I was doomed to be alone and miserable my whole life, but…”

He shook his head and shrugged. “Yeah. Being able to have a wedding and be treated by the community as a real couple is a big deal for me. I’ve wanted this so badly for so long, and I’m scared stiff that someone’s going to take it away.”

“No one is taking me away from you,” Luka promised, stepping in and resting his forehead against Adrien’s. “You heard what my mother said during the ceremony, right? You and I are one. The string of fate binds us together, and no one is capable of severing our bond. Not even your father. We’re safe, Little Prince. No one can break us apart.”

“Oh,” Adrien breathed, relaxing into Luka’s hold.

“Mmhm,” Luka whispered. “You’re mine now. Always. Just like I’m yours. We’ve got the rings on our fingers and the bite marks on our shoulders to prove it, don’t we?”

“Yeah,” Adrien mumbled tiredly, setting his head down on Luka’s shoulder. “You’re right. We’re safe, aren’t we?”

“Absolutely,” Luka assured, gently rocking Adrien from side to side.

They stayed there for a long time, holding one another and swaying in rhythm to the music coming from the clearing just beyond the trees.

Luka eventually began to hum along, and the calming sound of his husband’s breathy vocalizations nearly lulled Adrien to sleep as all tension left him.

“Hey,” Luka called softly, causing Adrien to stir.

“Hm?”

“Dance with me,” Luka entreated. “Teach me a human dance.”

“A human dance?” Adrien chuckled.

“I’ve seen humans dance before, so I know you do it,” Luka playfully accused. “Don’t play dumb with me, Little Prince. Show me your cultural practices.”

“I’m not a very good dancer,” Adrien excused himself perfunctorily, “but I guess I could try teaching you to slow dance.”

“Slow dance?” Luka echoed, intrigued. “Okay. Sure. Show me.”

“Here.” Adrien took Luka’s right hand in his own and guided Luka’s left hand up to rest on Adrien’s shoulder. He placed his right hand at the small of Luka’s back. “This is a standard dance hold. Now, all we’re going to do is step-touch with our feet back and forth. See?”

Adrien slowly stepped to the right and touched his left foot to the ground before stepping back to the left and touching with his right foot.

Tentatively, Luka joined in, mirroring Adrien.

“Okay. I think I’ve got it. Now what?” Luka prompted after several rounds of step-touching.

“Now we move,” Adrien informed with a smile, using his hands as leverage to guide Luka into a turn. “Just keep step-touching and follow where I lead you,” he instructed and found that Luka was a quick study.

“We’re dancing,” Luka laughed gleefully as Adrien carefully guided him around the clearing.

“Yep. You’re a really good student, Orpheus,” Adrien praised. “…Do you want to try leading now?”

“May I?” Luka questioned with a tentative eagerness.

Adrien readily nodded and stopped to change the positions of their hands. “Just lead me where you want me to go with a gentle pressure, and I’ll follow.”

Luka pursed his lips and furrowed his brow in concentration as they began to move. He was hesitant and careful, almost as if he were afraid of hurting Adrien.

“Luka,” Adrien called softly, “You’re not going to break me. I mean…you could if you wanted to, but you don’t, so you’re not going to. I trust you.”

Luka’s teeth sank deeper into his lip. “I worry that you trust me too much sometimes.”

Adrien shook his head. “You worry too much.”

“That’s what Juleka said,” Luka sighed.

“You weren’t so careful yesterday when we were in bed,” Adrien baited and did an internal victory dance as his husband’s face flushed scarlet.

“That… You…” Luka struggled to produce sentences. “Naughty human.”

“Very,” Adrien agreed with a devilish smirk.

“Hush. We’re dancing now,” Luka pouted, proceeding to lead Adrien around the clearing more assertively.

“There you go,” Adrien praised, proud at how quickly Luka was picking up the steps. “It must be a musician thing. You’re really good at this.”

“Maybe,” Luka allowed. “But aren’t you a musician too? You said you played the harpsicord, didn’t you?”

“Meh. I’m just a hobbyist,” Adrien deflected with a shrug. “You’re the real musician in this marriage.”

Luka hummed thoughtfully. “We Couffaines are all musicians. Music is in our blood. Maybe it’ll rub off on you.”

“Hm… I’d like that,” Adrien decided.

“…Teach me another dance?” Luka requested after they’d been going for some time.

“Maybe some other time,” Adrien answered apologetically. “The rest of the dances I know are kind of complicated. It would take a while to explain the figures, so we wouldn’t be able to actual dance right away, and I want to keep dancing with you.”

“Oh, all right,” Luka relented. “But I’m holding you to it.”

“Sure,” Adrien agreed. “Maybe you could even teach me some of your people’s dances too.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Luka assured. “The fair folk adore singing and dancing and merrymaking.”

“Then, I’ll show you a different version of the slow dance,” Adrien proposed, stepping in and circling his arms around Luka’s neck. “Put your hands on my waist,” he directed, and Luka complied. “Now, we just sway from side to side and shuffle our feet around a little.”

“Not a very exciting dance,” Luka started to chuckle but then abruptly stopped laughing as Adrien came in closer until their bodies were pressed flush together. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Adrien purred. “It’s a nice, simple dance.”

“I like this dance,” Luka reported.

“This is the first time I’ve ever enjoyed it,” Adrien sighed, laying his head down on Luka’s shoulder. “Usually, it’s just a hurtful reminder of how I’m broken…when I’m at banquets and have to dance with women,” he elaborated.

“You’re not broken, My Love,” Luka cooed into Adrien’s hair. “You’re perfect just as you are.”

“I’m finally starting to believe that,” Adrien whispered. “It’s just…all this time, I was told that people like me were sick and disgusting. I guess there’s still a part of me that believes that lie.”

“Your society is what’s broken,” Luka insisted, squeezing Adrien tighter. “It’s okay, though. You’re safe here, and day by day it’s going to get easier to believe that there’s nothing wrong with you. It’s going to get easier.”

“Yeah,” Adrien breathed softly, melting into Luka’s embrace and trying to let go of all the baggage that had continually held him down throughout his life.

They swayed gently from side to side, enjoying this stolen moment together for as long as it would last.

Eventually, they slowly pulled away and gazed at each other with pure love in their eyes.

“Want to head back to the party?” Luka suggested, tipping his head back towards the clearing by the lake where the revelers were still eating, drinking, and dancing like it was their occupation.

Adrien shook his head, an impish smile peeking out from around the corner of his lips. “I want to head back to our room. Like you said earlier, we haven’t really been alone all day since we left our room this morning, and I want my husband all to myself.”

“Oh,” Luka snickered, eyes flickering with mischief. “Well, then. That can certainly be arranged.”

Adrien pursed his lips, cautiously inquiring, “We’re not going to offend anyone by sneaking off, are we? I don’t want to start my life here off on the wrong foot.”

Luka shook his head with a knowing smile, taking Adrien’s hand and leading him back towards the lake. “Trust me, so long as there’s food and wine and music, ninety-nine percent of our guests won’t care.”

Adrien’s brow furrowed slightly. “What about the other one percent?”

Luka chuckled. “That would be Maman, Rose, and Juleka, and Maman and Rose would find the reason for our truancy amusing.”

Adrien nodded slowly in understanding. “And Juleka already hates me anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.”

Luka flinched, shooting his mate a pleading look. “She doesn’t hate you, My Love. It’s just very complicated…. Please give her time.”

Adrien bit the inside of his cheek.

It sure felt like Juleka hated him, but…how did he really know what was going on inside his sister-in-law’s head? Luka had mentioned that she’d been traumatized by her interactions with humans when she was very young, and Adrien could plainly see why she didn’t want her brother marrying a mortal. He could understand some of the reasons why Juleka potentially didn’t like him, but that didn’t make her rejection of him hurt less.

Still.

Adrien was the cause of the Couffaines’ lives being turned upside-down, and yet they were treating him well and attempting to adapt. Rose had outright befriended him, and Anarka was trying her best despite her misgivings. Juleka wasn’t friendly, but she wasn’t making his life hell (which it would be well within her power to do) either.

The Couffaines’ reception of Adrien was far warmer than Luka’s would have been at court if their roles were reversed and Adrien had brought a kelpie fiancé home.

The least Adrien could do was be patient and give them time.

He forced his lips into a small smile and nodded dutifully. “Okay,” he acquiesced, giving Luka’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ll do my best. She did say yesterday that it was nothing personal, so…she’s probably just worried about you. I can tell she really loves you.”

Luka returned Adrien’s forced smile with a genuinely grateful one. “She does, and I love her too. I’m very close with my sister, so it makes me sick to think that my relationship with one of you could drive a wedge between me and the other. I know it’s very difficult for the both of you, but…if you two could just keep trying, it would mean the world to me.”

Adrien stopped to pull Luka in for a bolstering kiss. “Don’t worry, My Love. I would never do that to you, and if Juleka really does love you, she wouldn’t either. You’ll never have to choose between us. Okay?”

Luka placed a grateful kiss on Adrien’s forehead, affirming, “Okay. Thank you, Adrien.”

A jolt went through Adrien at Luka’s use of his real name, coursing through his veins and spreading out across his entire body. He pulled Luka in for another, rougher kiss, whispering, “Anything for you,” against Luka’s lips.

Luka hummed into the kiss, loving when Adrien’s buried assertive nature came out. “We really need to get home now.”

“Agreed,” Adrien sighed longingly, employing all of his self-control not to pounce his husband then and there on the lakeshore.

#Lukadrien #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Luka Couffaine #Adrien Agreste #Rose Lavillant #Fluff #Marriage #Wedding #Fae AU #Fae Luka #Prince Adrien #Dancing #Kissing #Hurt/Comfort #Mikau's Writings #Among the Wild Things

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