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viperbarnes · 3 years

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The Tie That Binds – [Five of Eight]

[B. Barnes, Soulmate AU]

Summary: HYDRA took everything from you, your life, your future, they even burned off your soulmark to make sure nobody would go looking for you. Now the man they forced you to fix reappears in your life, to make amends and to be ‘of service’.

You know that they made him do all those things, that James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is not The Winter Soldier, that he’s innocent. You don’t blame him.

But that doesn’t make seeing him again any easier.

Warnings: Panic attacks, language, talk and depiction of home invasion and abduction, canon level violence, HYDRA levels of torture, angst, fluff, slow-ish burn, friends to lovers.

Note: I hope you enjoy!!!

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“What time is it there?”

“Same as New York, only it’s day time here.”

You hum softly and try to shuffle over onto your side, phone still pressed to your ear as you settle again. On the other end of the line, you can hear muffled street sounds, the hum of conversation in a language you don’t understand, and the occasional car horn. You remind yourself that Bucky hadn’t been gone all that long, barely three days now, and try not to feel foolish.

“Honey?” His voice is clear through the phone, like you could hear him for real in the room with you.

“Yeah, I’m still here. Was just moving.” You tell him. You can imagine him ducked into a nook of a brightly lit street, phone to his ear, his brow pinched in that worried way it often was.

“Is it helping?” He asks, but you let out a small sigh.

“No.”

Silence follows for a few seconds, and you listen closer to the sounds on the other end, trying to make a guess at where in the world he might be.

“I’m sorry, honey…” There’s more guilt in his voice than you like, and you can’t stop yourself from frowning deeply, despite the fact he can’t see you.

“It’s not your fault. You can’t just stop helping people because your girlfriend doesn’t like being alone…” You huff, rolling your eyes. You hear Bucky chuckle softly, and it makes your own lips quirk.

“I know, but I’m still sorry that you had a bad dream and that I’m not able to be there… I don’t like leaving anymore than you do.” He assures you, and you know he’s speaking the truth. Ever since your relationship had taken a turn for the romantic you’d been inseparable. Rarely did a day go by that you weren’t with one another, and contrary to what you might have thought before, being so used to your isolated existence, it didn’t feel suffocating.

Nothing felt as though it had changed all that much, it wasn’t as if the nature of your time together had really changed. You weren’t suddenly all over each other all the time, but there was a closeness, a tenderness now that underpinned everything.

You moved slow in some aspects, physicality mostly, and fast in others. Since Bucky had first kissed you over a month ago now, you’d started staying with one another through the night. You’d sleep beside one another, and truthfully, you hadn’t had such restful sleep since before HYDRA had kidnapped you. You’d been surprised when Bucky had told you of his initial hesitation, that he hadn’t wanted to wake you up with his own nightmares, but the nighttime company seemed to lend him a sense of calm as well.

Your stomach stirs at the thought of him not sleeping well while he was away either.

“I’ll be okay. I promise.” You assure him, pausing briefly before continuing.

“I just wanted to talk to you… hear your voice.” You confess, feeling rather silly, like a high schooler with a crush. Bucky hums down the line again, but this time, you imagine his sweet and bashful smile.

“I don’t think we’ll be here much longer, but just in case, why don’t you stay at mine until I get home?” He suggests. Bucky’s apartment was in a slightly nicer part of town, the building itself a little more secure and modern than yours.

You smile against the side of your phone, and nod.

“Okay. But you’ll try to let me know when you’re on your way home, right?” You both check and remind him, but you hardly need to. He meant it when he said he didn’t like going away as much as you didn’t.

“You’ll know the second I do, honey… If my phone still works.”

You chortle at the wince you hear in his voice, memories of a mission before last, when he’d used the device as parts in a makeshift bomb.

Reluctantly you bid goodnight, waiting until the very last second to hang up before you feel alone again in your far too empty bed. Unable to stare at the vacant spot next to you any longer, you decide to put Bucky’s advice into action sooner than the morning, gathering together a small bag of essentials before calling a ride service and making your way to Bucky’s apartment.

It’s still lonely without him, but between his sheets you’re able to slip back into sleep, dreaming of far more pleasant things this time.

---

Two days later you arrive home at Bucky’s apartment, cold, tired, and ready to crawl onto his couch and watch some mindless TV.

You’re still halfway through hanging up your coat and scarf when a noise makes you freeze. It was unidentifiable at first, just a sound that wasn’t supposed to be, but as you stop and listen closer, you can make out what you think is a very soft whisper, and some kind of scratching.

Your heartbeat hiccups, but it’s then, as you finish hanging your scarf on a hook, that you notice the dark black duffle bag kicked against the wall, right in front of your feet. This time your heart jumps for a different reason, and you swallow thickly.

“Bucky?!” You call out, hopeful and already moving quickly through the entryway.

“Living room!” His voice calls back, and you can’t help but smile widely as you step out of the hallway and spy the top of his head over the half wall that divided the kitchen and living space.

He’s sat on the floor, for some reason, between the couch and the TV, and at first you don’t think to question him, only freezing again when you move further into the home, and the whole scene is revealed to you fully.

“Hey baby,” Bucky beams at you, still in his uniform. You stare at him, mouth slightly ajar as you attempt to process what you were seeing.

“This is George.” He tells you, nodding down at the space between his crossed legs, where a seemingly very excited pitbull puppy struggles against Bucky’s arm to try and get to you. You blink at the dog, and then at Bucky, whose eyes have turned back to the dog as he softly calms him.

“Come and say hello before he wears a hole in me.” Bucky chortles, and you finally snap out of your surprise enough to inch closer to the pair, eventually kneeling down in front of them, and holding your hand out for the puppy to sniff.

“Hi George…!” You greet, unable to hold back a smile as the puppy immediately begins sniffing and licking your hand. You chuckle as you settle more comfortably on your knees, and lift both hands to give the dog some ear scratches.

“Why do you have a dog, Buck…?” You ask, laughter rolling over your words as the man releases his hold on the pup and lets him bound into your lap, where he promptly tries to climb you to lick your face.

“Woah now, Georgie, that’s my job…” Bucky teases, gently pulling the dog back just a little.

“He’s so happy!” You exclaim, shifting again so that you mirrored Bucky’s crossed-legs, and allowing George to settle between them, calming some as you pet behind his ears again.

“That’s just ‘cause I was tellin’ him all about you on the way home.” Bucky grins, leaning forward enough to press a brief kiss to your forehead in proper greeting. You shake your head and focus back on the puppy, running your finger from the tip of his nose to the top of his head.

“You gonna answer my question?” You prompt, and Bucky eyes you with a shrug.

“Saw a box of them on the street as Sam and I were getting ready to leave. He was the only one left.” He tells you with a little frown, watching George as the pup play with his hand. You get the feeling his story is heavily censored, if not wholly untrue, but you don’t ask.

You don’t want to know.

“So… you decided all of a sudden you were going to get a dog?” You prompt again, and his frown disappears as he fixes his gaze back on you.

“No, I decided to get a second.” He grins, only clarifying when you frown in confusion.

“… A second in command, I mean. Not a second dog.”

You still stare at him confused, though only a little less than before. It’s then that Bucky reaches out, scooping George up in his arms and holding him up to his chest like a baby.

“George is gonna keep you safe when I’m away,” Bucky explains, making your heart skip a beat.

“We’re gonna train him up real good, make sure he gets big and strong,” He looks up from the puppy then, and at you, his eyes softening.

“And maybe we can avoid more sleepless nights…”

You struggle to stop your lip from trembling at the sheer thoughtfulness of it all, but settle for shooting Bucky a watery smile before you lean in to brush your hand over George’s head lovingly.

“Thank you.” You say, leaning even further to press your lips to Bucky’s cheek. He smiles softly back at you as you pull away, and begin fussing with the puppy again.

“Why ‘George’?” You ask a small while later, finishing up a list you’d made of puppy things you had to buy, all the while Bucky played with your new little friend. He’d donated an old glove to the toy fund already, and you watch as the pair play a gentle game of tug-of-war.

“When I was a kid there was this local boxer, the best in Brooklyn, I reckon,” Bucky begins, but doesn’t look up from his game.

“They used to call him ‘The Pitbull’, but his real name was George.” He shrugs then, and throws you a small smile.

“Just thought it suited.”

---

The morning breeze whips against your cheeks, the tip of your nose bearing the brunt as well. It had been a while since you’d not only been awake so early, but ready and willing to leave the house too.

You had a good reason though, a reason you follow closely with your eyes as he darts across the dewy-wet grass, kicking up flecks of dirt as he goes, and you remind yourself you’ll need to give his feet a wipe down before you let him back into the apartment. The pitbull pup had filled out over the past three months, though he’d still get bigger the vet had told you. His grey-black coat had turned more grey than black, and his floppy little ears had become a little less floppy as he’d grown into them.

You grin as you watch Bucky play with him, running back and forth across a small area of the dog park, a large rope toy in his hand. Every so often he stops to let Georgie catch up to him, wrestling the toy from him, and then the chase swaps.

It was so nice to see Bucky completely and unabashedly carefree. Even before Georgie came along, as you’d settled into your relationship, you’d still catch him with a sad look on his face every so often. You would both speak candidly about your pasts, and no matter how your relationship had developed, neither of you would ever be able to change what had happened.

You still wondered if being with Bucky was the right thing. Choice or not, the universe had already dictated his soulmate, and someday that fact would rear its head again. You mostly tried to ignore it, to relish in what you had while you had it, but there was a part of you that knew deep down, it wasn’t forever.

“Brave choice,” A voice speaks up from nearby you, and you turn to find a woman around your age, her own dog sat patiently by her feet. She tosses a brightly coloured ball, and the dog takes off after it.

“Excuse me?” you ask, and the woman focuses back on you. She nods in the direction of Georgie and Bucky, with a not-unfriendly smile.

“A pitbull. It’s a brave choice you know. Lotta work.”

You can tell she wasn’t trying to be rude or condescending, but her opinions rub you the wrong way despite that.

“Not really,” you reply with a tight smile and a shrug.

“Just like any dog. You have to put in the work to get the results.”

“But Pitbulls are naturally more dangerous. That’s just a fact.” The woman’s dog returns to her, dropping the ball which she then tosses again.

“I disagree,” you try to refrain from displaying your own ‘natural’ danger, but your voice still holds a sharpness.

“It’s their environment that determines that.”

The woman hums in a decidedly condescending way.

You’re glad that she decides to run after her dog a fews seconds later, ending the short, but annoying conversation.

You look back at your two boys, your stomach churning, though you aren’t really sure why. Newly being a pitbull owner, you’d seen and heard plenty of shitty opinions online and in person during your research and finding a puppy-preschool course. None of these had really bothered you that much before, you’d usually just dismiss the arguments. Now though, you feel properly upset in a way that makes your hands shake, your coffee wobbling precariously in the cup you hold.

You aren’t even aware that you’re frowning deeply until Bucky pauses, sitting on the grass with Georgie draped over his legs, both seemingly out of breath. He looks around before he spots you, his smile dropping a few seconds later when he spies your sour expression. You look away briefly, trying to rid it from your features, but it’s too late.

Bucky scoops Georgie up, the puppy happy to be held, and collects the rope toy before he begins making his way back to you, concern creasing his brow. You greet you dog first when he’s close, cupping his face and scratching behind his ears, but it’s only a thinly veiled tactic not to look at your boyfriend. It fails anyway, as he sweeps down to peck your lips chastly.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asks, kneeling down to place Georgie back on the ground, and connecting his lead back to his collar again.

“Nothing,” you lie, receiving a frown in response.

“Really, it’s nothing. I’ll tell you later.” you brush it off more convincingly this time, and tuck yourself into Bucky’s side as you begin walking. He seems to accept this with a flat hum, but wraps his free arm around your back and presses a kiss to the side of your head.

You walk home sharing quiet conversation, and Bucky seemingly forgets about your glare and change in mood at the park, but you don’t.

It stays with you over the next couple of days, an unsettling and building upset. You aren’t sure if it makes you angry, or sad, or guilty even. It just makes you feel bad, and every time your mind is brought back to it, the weight of the emotions hit you heavily.

You’re standing at your stove, stirring the pasta sauce for dinner when it happens again. Bucky had gone to clean up some time ago, but last you’d checked he’d been lounging on your bed, Georgie cuddled up with him.

It was wrong for people to assume off the bat that your beautiful little puppy was somehow inherently worse, more aggressive or dangerous than other dogs. He’d never hurt a fly, and as long as he was brought up well and lived in a loving household, there was no reason that would suddenly change.

Pitbulls who were abused, or existed in places where aggression was rewarded and therefore exhibiting dangerous behaviours were made that way by human involvement, not by nature. Even then, the amount of stories of rehabilitated rescue pitbulls were more than abundant!

It hits you then, like a sack of bricks.

Bucky was the pitbull.

Not literally, of course, the woman had been explicitly referring to your dog, but internally, your anger and sadness and guilt had been about something else entirely.

It makes you feel even worse all of a sudden, because it wasn’t as if you hadn’t known this. You knew Bucky’s prior life and behaviour was entirely not of his own choosing, you know that HYDRA had forged him into what he’d been, and that with his freedom he’d chosen to change, to do and be better. To make amends.

You knew this, so why did this stupid anaology hit you so differently?

Your initial reaction to Bucky showing up again in your life wasn’t unfounded, you know you shouldn’t feel guilty about that. So where did the guilt come from? Was it only because now you knew him? Because of how things had changed and what you’d become to one another?

No, you realise, again rather suddenly, a second sack of bricks.

With Georgie around now, you got to see Bucky interacting with somebody else he adored, and the differences were stark. With Georgie, he wasn’t hesitance, there was no sense of cautiousness or reproach, but with you, there was.

Bucky was always so careful with you, always soft and gentle and aware. As if he himself wasn’t entirely sure you weren’t afraid.

You swallow thickly and shakily move to turn off the stove.

He almost never touched you with his left hand, if he could help it. The physicality between the two of you only extended to the occasional kiss and the closeness you’d share when you slept most nights. He never pressed beyond that, and while that was fine with you, you see it now in a different light. You don’t want to be in a relationship where one of you always felt like you were penitent.

You wonder if he thinks he doesn’t deserve more.

Slowly your feet carry you towards your bedroom, where you stop in the doorway to take in your view.

Bucky lay against your pillows, one arm tucked behind his head, and the other resting gently on Georgie’s, softly petting. The pup perks when he hears you though, sitting up and drawing Bucky’s attention too, before he gets up altogether and darts towards you.

“Probably thinks it’s dinner time.” Bucky remarks, and you shoot him a small smile, nodding.

“I’ll do it.” You tell him quietly. You quickly go about feeding your puppy, deciding it would be better to have him aside for the time being.

When you return, Bucky is sat up more, his phone in his hand, but he shuts it off and sets it aside when you enter the room. You aren’t sure how to say what you want to say, or even if Bucky would be honest in hearing it.

You don’t say anything as you join him on your bed, quickly curling up into his side.

“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, and you realise he hadn’t forgotten about the day at the dog park. You draw yourself even closer, hiding your face in his shoulder as he shuffles so that he can wrap you up with both arms.

“You still feel guilty,” You murmur, unsure of if that will even make sense, but you don’t know how else to order your thoughts. Bucky pauses, and in your mind you can picture his brow furrowing and his lips turning down in the corners.

“Of course I do,” he says then, and you’re both a little surprised and relieved that you don’t have to explain yourself further.

Lifting your head, you find him staring up at the ceiling, though his eyes turn to you when you raise a hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at you.

“I really don’t want you to,” you tell him, earning you a small smile.

“I don’t think it works like that,” Bucky says, shifting again so that he can face you better.

“It does a little bit… if you think I’m still…” You fetter off, unsure of the word.

“Afraid?” Bucky supplies, and his choice of word confirms your suspicions.

“Buck… if I were even a little bit afraid, you wouldn’t be here right now,” You tell him firmly, needing him to hear you.

“I wouldn’t have let you come back to my home, or invited you inside. Trust me.”

His eyes dart away from yours, and he purses his lips.

“I don’t ever want to hurt you again,” Bucky’s voice is quiet, and you’re glad at least that he was engaging with you.

“I get it,” you tell him.

“But this isn’t going to work if you can’t trust me when I tell you something… and vice versa.”

His eyes snap to yours, and his frown deepens. You see a flash of worry in his eyes.

“If you’re always feeling like you’re walking on glass or that you need to tread carefully, that’s not really respecting my decision to be with you,” you say slowly. Bucky’s frown deepens again, and he swallows, but he nods hesitantly.

“I– I’m not saying that either of us can just forget– but at some point we have to forgive, right?”

Bucky stares at you for a moment, but slowly you see his frown lessen, and he nods again.

“I–” he cuts himself off and clears his throat.

“I never thought about it like that. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head.

“It’s okay. I understand… but Buck, you don’t have to make amends with me anymore,”

Bucky blinks, his face morphing into confusion.

“The past ten years I spent thinking I was gonna die alone, at least now I’ve got a fifty-fifty either way,” you play it off as a joke, and Bucky chortles, but he sobers quickly too, frown reappearing briefly as he cups your cheek.

“That’s a hard thing for me to come to terms with, honey… I don’t know if I’ll ever feel as though I can make up for everything. Not in a way that feels like it’s enough.” His thumb swipes gently back and forth over your cheek, and truly, you haven’t felt so safe or cherished in your entire life.

“Just start thinking about it. If it’s something you’ve never considered before, of course it’s hard to come to terms with.”

You lean up and press a soft kiss to his lips, intending to be chaste, but his hand at your cheek holds you there, and even now your heart flutters. He kisses you no more passionately than usual, but there’s a depth to it now that makes it feel brand new. It fetters off sweetly into shorter kisses, until he pecks you once more finally on the lips, before tugging you closer and kissing the top of your head.

“You may also need to come to terms with the fact I burnt dinner…” you scrunch up your nose as you admit the failure sitting on the stove, and Bucky’s whole body shakes as he laughs. He kisses your head again before his arms tighten around you.

“That ones a little bit easier, honey.”

If you like or enjoy, a comment or reblog is always highly appreciated! Thank you for reading!!!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes/you

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hobiwonder · 4 years

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Bloom | 01

Genre: Hybrid!Namkook. fluorescence by @jincherie AU

Pairing: foxhybrid!Namjoon x Reader x bunnyhybrid!Jungkook ;(

Warnings: language. mention of hybrid trafficing/being sold into sex trafficing, fluff holy shit, angst, Smut (future), very cuddly and shy jungkook, stuttery shy BOYS. I really just wrote this for me.

Words: 5k+

Summary: In a world where humanity is increasingly motivated by how much cash can be made off of... well anything, you’re a human and hybrid rights lawyer. You will do anything to save the ones that never had a choice right from the date of their conception. Even if that means, adopting two hybrids that you absolutely did not mean to.

a/n: hello hello im back from the dead iuhbIUHBUYBGUY okay so, yes this isnt baby baby but i am a bit behind on that so i really hope posting this instead can satiate my sluts for a few more days until i have that done. I have a lot of this written so I will post this on a semi-regular schedule. rest of the schedule i posted will stay the same. it’s just baby baby that’s kicking my BUTT!!!! Lastly, I started writing this before Goo Hara passed away. Opening this document made me a little sad and also happy when i remember Hara and her love for eco-friendly fashion. I guess, this is kind of a tribute to her? anyhow, I hope you guys like it. please please please, validate me. :>)

"Y/n they're going to be sold to this man who works for a black market. What do I do? Oh god. I-I didn't know our company was into that business."

Your best friend is nearing the point of tears and you can understand her frustration. "Listen, Hara, take a deep breath and tell me when exactly this is happening."

A deep breath is taken as you'd suggested, before you hear Hara's voice again through the phone. "Okay... Okay. I was just told by Minseok that there is an auction for the remaining two from the past failed batches. Apparently two others have been adopted and the rest have been pawned off somewhere. I'm not sure. From our division of the company, these two are the ones that have not gone for further testing to be open to the regular public. A-And so now there is a super secret auction happening tonight. It's not open to the regular public as you already know but staff members are able to attend. What do I do y/n? I can't afford them. I have my own to deal with. These poor boys will go to some horrible owner who will use them f-for god knows what."

Now Hara was crying. Openly and brokenly for the possible fate of these 'failed' hybrids that her company had produced. This was a sticky situation and even you, a Human and hybrid rights lawyer, had limited ideas as to what could be done on such a short notice. But you were not about to give up.

"Hara, don't. They will not be bought by some hybrid trafficker okay? I won't let it happen. I will... I will at least try. It's my job, remember?"

Your optimism is convincing enough. And you wholeheartedly believed that something would give. These big corporations had their toes in everywhere and you didn’t yet know if they had already had a designated buyer on the black market they pawned their hybrids off to. Where there was money to be made - no company had morals rigid enough to stop themselves from the temptation. You already lived in an age where human trafficking was no longer a cause for activism or big debates. Not when more species - man made or not - had been created to take advantage of.

“Okay yeah. You’re a badass lawyer, you must have something up your sleeve right?” Her voice is shaky but you confirm with an enthusiastic nod she can’t see.

“Of course! I’ll kick their asses. Surely this can’t be legal? No blackmarket is. Let me have a look at what can be done. I’m assuming you can bring a plus one tonight?”

“Yeah I-I was given a ticket. You’ll be coming with me right?”

“That’s why I asked, silly.” Her relieved chuckle brings a smile to your own lips.

“I’ll see you there. Don’t give up hope until I do, alright?”

“Okay... You’re right.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Fuck this. Fuck my life.” The curses escaped your mouth left and right as you looked over the dozens and dozens of papers splayed out on your oak desk.

Even your comfortable office chair couldn’t stop the knot building up between your shoulder blades. This was bad. Really bad. Corporate law allowed unfit materials to be sold to third parties. What these third parties did with those materials - the company of origin was no longer liable for. In short: These hybrids were going to be bought by someone sketchy with a crystal clear profile and no paper trail unless someone bid higher and bought them.

None of these bastards were rookies. They had solid paperwork where necessary and it would be near impossible to prove their illegal activities when all of them took place on the dark web. A place that opened up more threats and risks than solutions. No legislation covered hybrid rights that weren’t even registered yet. Whoever bought them would have to register them and then the hybrids would be able to receive the minimum protection they had a right to.But you can bet your father’s company that whoever bought them will never register them. Essentially these hybrids will be wiped out from the system.

Fingertips tapping against the wood, each passing minute was precious time lost. it was already 5pm. You had to leave for the dreaded auction in less than an hour and hour and yet here you sat in your chair. Hands itching to do something other than pick up the phone and tell Hara that you were at a loss. What could you do? Who would take them? You didn’t know anyone that was ready to add not one but two hybrids to their household. And ones that were not fully approved to be released. You couldn’t just lie and pawn them off to just anyone. Then you would not be any better than the company trying to get rid of them.

Sighing, you pack up the papers and documents you had initially thought would help. They were of no use anymore. All you could do was go and offer support to Hara. Or Maybe you were going because you still had hope that there would be someone who would save those hybrids. Hope was a dangerous thing for a woman like you but you had it. This was no time to wallow. So you smooth your skirt, touch up your makeup and put on your heels that had men double take.

Maybe you could scare and/or seduce these people in changing their mind?

You laugh at your absurdity, glancing in the mirror one last time before you leave with stacks of files in your hands. You could at least stall them.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Y/n! Thank god you’re here.” I’m not so sure about that. Though you opt for a gentle smile and meet her embrace enthusiastically.

You can hear the sniffles coming from Hara who has her head buried in your shoulder. “Hey, no crying okay? No matter what happens.” The comment has her pulling back just as quickly.

“What do you mean? You have a plan for tonight r-right? Y/n..”

How could you do this? Lie to her? This was not fair on her. On anyone really. It wasn’t your fault and neither hers for whatever would happen tonight. She needed to know what to expect. As much as your heart clenched and ached to say the words you were about to; it was important to mentally prepare for the worst.

“Hara... I couldn’t find anything.” Your frown is apologetic. Trying to convey how really truly sorry you were but it doesn’t stop the tears from brewing up in her eyes.

“Oh.. I thought- thought they had a chance y/n.” You reach out for her hand, wanting to alleviate her hurt as soon as possible.

“I will at least try to see who will buy them okay? Don’t worry. We can keep an eye out on who gets them. They will be alive at least, right?” Your attempt at finding a silver lining doesn’t make her look any more reassured than you felt.

Glancing at your watch, you motion towards the building. “Come on. Let’s go before they try and kick us out.”

Hara nods, numbly leading the way towards an auditorium where several people had already taken their seats. You’re not sure how many people you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t... this. There were at best 10 people here. All ten seemingly looked like they knew each other. This could only mean one thing. That this sale was to some degree, arranged. As in, multiple buyers were from the same company posing as separate customers to maximise their chances of acquiring the hybrids.

“Hara, have you seen any of these people before?” Your whisper has her craning her neck to have a good look at all of the men sitting in the front few rows.

“No, I don’t think so.” Her furrowed brows turn to you instead, “Do you recognise any of them?”

Shaking your head, you follow her down the stairs to sit in the row behind the last pair of buyers who were sitting.

“Whoever they are... they don’t look like they are all strangers.” Hara is gripping on to your arm when she hears you, visibly nervous once again. “I’m just speculating, okay?”

Your attempt to ease her, once again, is not enough. But you don’t try again since you don’t even believe your own words. The auctioneer however, stops you from thinking further about the impending events of the night. The man stands in a lab coat, glancing at his watch before he brings his mouth closer to the mic on the dice.

“Let’s begin gentleman... and ladies.” He seems to be surprised to see you and Hara sitting at the back. And before he begins further, he motions someone. Another man approaches the auctioneer and listens carefully as the other whispers. A few seconds later, his eyes fall back to where you sat with your best friend.

Hara’s grasp on your arm tightens once again when the man heads to your general direction. On instinct, your back straightens, posture more solid than before so as to not give anyone the wrong impression that they can mess with you unwarrantedly.

“Excuse me Miss.?”

“Yes?” Your curt reply surprises him but he recovers fast, glancing towards Hara before talking to you again.

“Are you a guest of Ms. Hara?”

“Obviously.” Your unwavering gaze visibly unnerves him. It was obvious to anyone there but you had an idea this was some sort of test.

“May I see your ticket please?” His bogus smile annoys you more than it should. Nonetheless, Hara is fishing out the ticket from her purse and showing the man. He inspects it longer than he should and finally walks back to the auctioneer to let him know you had the right to be here.

“Who would do that if they weren’t running a hoax?” You ask Hara before you can stop yourself.

“Alright. Apologies for the delay. We will now begin. As you are all aware, we are auctioning two of our very elite hybrids from a rare batch. They have not progressed to the next stage of screenings and tests due to some technical difficulties. Thus, we are here to give them a chance at a new home rather than a painful end.” He looks in the audience for effect. Euthanasia is what he meant.

“These hybrids are fully functional however lack a few abilities they were initially designed for. Due to these technical issues deeming them failed to proceed, they are available for purchase at a much lower cost than what they are sold for on the market.” The auctioneer looks so smug the urge to smack his across the face is almost irresistible.

“Right, bring them out Wonho.” Everyone is watching carefully, waiting for the ‘failed’ hybrids and you don’t know what you were expecting.

Not what you see though. Definitely not. Because the two - tall - hybrids entering the stage are not what you expect. Peach and silver tones greet your eyes as well as incredibly sculpted faces. The peach haired hybrid seems to cling to the silver haired one. The man leading the two hybrids seems to be frustrated with their slow pace, giving the peach haired hybrid a little shove and there is only so much you can do to not yell at the top of your lungs for him to get his hands off of them.

The man sighs, letting the two hybrids to just stand in the middle when the peach haired one does not stand apart from the other hybrid. While the shorter of the two hybrids - and much, much shyer - looks around anxiously at the people in the auditorium, the silver haired one has his features set in stone. His eyes don’t look alarmed, they don’t seem scared. He just looks numb. He stares ahead at the people sitting in front of him while the peach haired boy visibly shakes, breathing fast and eyes flitting across every surface. He takes a step back, hiding part of his body behind his silver haired companion for comfort.

“There you have them. The peach haired specimen is a Oryctolagus cuniculus or - a bunny in more simplistic terms. The silver haired specimen is an arctic fox, Vulpes lagopus. Both hybrids are off a rare species and very sought after on the market. Due to technical issues, once again, unfortunately, we are only able to sell them in a pair. They are useless on their own.”

The candid way the auctioneer speaks of them has your blood boiling. But what gets you more is the laughter that sounds in the auditorium. Did these assholes think they were funny? The hybrids - entirely human or not - were present in the room with them. Did they not have any ounce of respect for them? Hara was not faring any better. Watching with a frown as chatter continued among the buyers. The bunny looked even more disturbed, looking around at every man in the front few rows - before his eyes landed on you.

The gasp that leaves you is abrupt. His pained expression holds your gaze, eyes wide and chest heaving. The bunny jumps when the auctioneer speaks again.

“We will now start the bid at $1000. $1200 anyone?” Several hands go up before the auctioneer raises the price to $1400.

Bald, greasy men exchanging glances and crude remarks as they talk amongst themselves. Your heart is thumping, your blood thinning. With each passing second, your throat seems to be closing up. There was nothing you could do to save them, was there? The further the price went up, the more panicked and distraught the bunny looked, gripping his fox companion harder, hiding behind him even more. The silver haired fox looked much like what you had stopped Hara from looking only this morning. Hopeless. His mouth was set in a thin line - just taking in the scenario in front of him. It was obvious he saw his fate before his very eyes and instead of futilely hoping that someone would save them - he stares his aggressors in the eyes.

“Brilliant! We’re at $3000 for the gentleman in the first row. Anyone for $3500?” The said man looked positively smug, sitting with his legs spread lewdly. Most likely sure that no one would contest that price.

Definitely not you.

“$4000.” Your voice yelling above everyone else is even foreign to your own ears. An outer body experience as you watch yourself look the auctioneer straight in his eyes, daring anyone in the room to go higher up on the price. But most of all, you watch the silver haired hybrid’s gaze waver for the first time - looking at you in such surprise like it was the first time he was noticing you.

“Ah... Anyone for $4500?” Only one other hand goes up. The man that had been the prospective buyer before. His face is ballooning with the amount of blood that’s rushing to it.

“Y/n? What are you doin?!” Hara’s frantic whispering flies over your head as you call out once more.

“$6000. Final offer.” You look at the other men in the seats beneath you, challenging them to dispute your offer.

The atmosphere is tense, thick with the tension brewing inside the auditorium and yet you don’t shy away from the angry glares being shot your way. A minute passes. No more offers.

“Sold to Miss?”

“Y/n.”

“-Miss Y/n. Thank you all for participating.” The loud chatter is instantaneous as the auctioneer motions the other lab rat to, assumably, gather the hybrids and their things.

“Y/N! Oh my god.” Hara has all but engulfed you in a tight hug once more. Shaking you slightly out of your own shock. This was not what you had planned but it was done.

She finally pulls back, checking you over like you were ill. “A-Are you sure about this? Oh god, okay we need to head up to the podium.”

Just like she doesn’t wait for your answer, you had not waited for your own either. You hadn’t even asked yourself the question before you had so blindly bid on the two hybrids. You’d been waiting for someone to save them. Someone to come barging in and take them away from these cruel people. Never in a millenia had you thought that someone might be you.

“Here you are Miss. You can deposit a check right now or eftpos the payment. Up to you.”

Benumbed, you take out your phone to open the phone banking application. When you’ve made sure there are sufficient funds transferred from your savings account, you wave your card in front of the auctioneer wordlessly. From the corner of your eyes, you can feel the two hybrids watching you. You wished they had at least let them wait in some sort of waiting room and not witness the jarring experience of several people bidding over them.

“Excellent! The transaction has been approved and a receipt will be emailed to you if you can fill out this form here.” Glancing at the hybrids standing a few feet away from you, clutching a duffle bag each, you try and put down your details as fast as you can.

They had already looked like they wanted to be as farther away from this place as possible and the feeling was mutual. Hara was beside you the whole time, waiting for any cue from you to provide some sort of support or whatever you needed her to do. And if your tongue worked - you would thank her as you filled out the space on the form asking you of your email address. It was sickening how easy it was for you to just... buy them! Would they not do a security or police check on you? Make sure that these hybrids are going to at least a safe home?

You were aware of the long process of hybrids that were ordered from the company. The company had a thorough process of making sure their clients were reputable and trust-worthy. That they wouldn’t do bodily harm to the hybrids but that was a facade so these companies wouldn’t have to spend money in compensation if a client had abused their hybrid in any way and had not been satisfied with what they had ordered. It was a guise. These people didn’t give two shits if the hybrids were not of expectation and couldn’t make them money.

“Am I done here?” Your tone was curt and the auctioneer could sense it.

The fact that you’d fished out more than enough cash for some ‘failed’ hybrids - he was interested in you as a potential future client. You were aware that hybrids of their breed went for $5000 - maximum. The previous greasy bald man had been close to closing a deal for $3000 until you had butted in. So obviously, they were going to kiss your ass.

“Yes Ma’am. That’s all we needed. The hybrids are good to go. Their bags have their guidebooks with them. Thank you for shopping with us.” his bright smile makes you want to hit him with your designer bag.

But even this leather was too good to be wasted on these assholes. “Y/N? Please look a little more friendly. You’ll scare the bunny away.” Hara is speed walking besides you, trying to convince you to soften your stance when you stop right before the bench they had been sitting on.

“Follow me, boys.” You’re not rude. You don’t sound mean either. But you don’t particularly sound like you wanted them. And as much as that was the truth to some degree, you didn’t not want them.

The silver haired hybrid hesitates - watching you with wide, curious eyes. Not the harsh way his eyes had scanned the room before but not exactly friendly and enthusiastic like the bunny. The bunny that was currently tugging on the silver fox’s sleeve wordlessly. His doe eyes silently ask his friend to follow you. But when his feet stay rooted to the same spot, you can’t help but sigh.

“Is there a problem?” A moment’s silence. Then finally the silver haired boy shakes his head, grasping the bunny’s hand and follows you out of the building.

Hara is gripping your hand, relieved tears in her eyes and you can’t keep looking. Because you couldn’t promise her that you would take good care of them. “Thank you Y/n. You didn’t have to do that but... but you did. You’re a good person and these boys are lucky to have you.”

Her eyes are earnest. You know she means every word and she can sense your inner turmoil at your own ability to take care of them. The boys can’t hear you both talking since they are standing near your car, obediently waiting for you. Taking a look at them huddled in the back seat, you turn back to Hara.

“Thanks Har. I will try my best. They deserve a shot at a normal and secure life. I won’t let you down.”

“And you,” she cups your face, making you look back at her. “You deserve love too. I have seen the bunny hybrid in the lab. He will heal all your wounds too. Please be happy and patient with them, okay?”

You nod, a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes but genuine nonetheless. “I’ll see you later. Love you.”

You just wave her goodbye, standing until her car pulls away. Looking back at the two boys waiting patiently in the car - you take a moment to gather yourself.

“Fuck... fuck. Fuck!” You don’t scream out loud. not really. But anyone walking by would be able to see you were stalling something. That something is going to your car and then going home.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to bite the bullet and face the reality. Getting in the driver’s seat, you look back at the two hybrids watching you from your rearview mirror. Giving them a small smile, you notice the bunny hybrid’s shoulders relax a little.

“Let’s go home.” Your voice is light and airy. Hoping to put them at ease. They were yours now.

You were their saviour.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Home sweet home.” Letting them pass you, entering the condo, you let them take in their surroundings.

The bunny is still latched on to the taller hybrid’s flannel, hiding behind him when the fox hybrid comes to stand beside a couch. Both of them look at you - as if waiting for you to allow them to sit. The silver haired fox is holding on to the bunny’s hand, watching you with a dour look.

“Go on.” You head motions towards the comfortable three seater couch. “Have a seat. No need to be shy.”

Of course, you want to palm yourself after your remark. Of course they were shy. Well, the bunny mostly. The fox looked to be very suspicious and not exactly friendly. Though you could understand his apprehension. He was about to be sold to some very nefarious people. He seemed to be a bit older than the bunny and had a look of ambiance that only came with experiencing harsh times. Your heart felt for him.

The bunny doesn’t wait too long, sitting on the couch - well plopping is more like it - whereas the fox takes his time, battling with himself if he should or not. When you keep watching him, waiting for him to sit, he thankfully gives in and sits besides his friend.

Once you can tell that they are comfortable - as comfortable as they can be, you ask your first question. “So, what are your names?”

You smile at them gently, letting them know you are their friend. At least hoping that they can conclude that from the fact that you told them about their new home on the car ride over.

The bunny’s eyes are wide, face heating up as if you asked him a rather scandalous question and not just his name. Your heart skips a beat when the lovely blush blossoms across his face that’s hiding in the fox’s shoulder.

“Well? Can you tell me, bun? What’s your name?” Your question being directed to the bunny only makes the blush more visible. You could see his face reddening further in embarrassment and the colour being rather more visible on his neck too.

The smile doesn’t diminish from your face. Not even after seeing the way the fox is almost glaring at you but you were positive that the bunny wasn’t hiding because he was afraid of you.

“J-Jungkook. ‘m J-Jungk-kook” The answer proves to be too much for him to mumble, lips catching his plumper bottom lip as he peeks at you through one eye that isn’t hidden in the fox’s shoulder.

“Jungkook. That’s a lovely name, bun.” Your smile widens when you see the corners of his mouth stirring up a little at your compliment.

Your heart was so full. Never did you think you would feel these dizzying emotions at a pretty boy merely muttering his name. His name. If this was your reaction at finding out one of their names, you were not going to survive getting to know them before you went full mother-hen mode on anyone that tried to harm them.

“What about you, hm?” Your smile is a lingering effect of just looking at Jungkook’s adorable blushing face and you don’t let it falter even if the fox hybrid is visibly more aloof.

‘Be patient with them y/n.’ You remind yourself of Hara’s words over and over.

“Namjoon.” The smile halts briefly at the deep timbre of his tone. You had not been expecting him to sound like molten chocolate and sweeter than honey. You realise you wanted to hear him more. Hear him speak about mundane topics over and over because that’s how good he sounded to you.

“Namjoon.” the name rolls off your tongue smoothly, just like his voice. You’re still watching his face, waiting for any sort of reaction even if it’s not as endearing as Jungkook’s. Just something. But his face remains passive. A slight twitch of his lips but that’s it. The pessimistic part of your brain convinces you that it could have been a frown and not a smile that he’s fought away.

But you needed to remain positive.

“T-That’s… a very nice name too.” He doesn’t look convinced at your reply though. Namjoon continues to watch you and now you’re the one blushing from the heat of his stare.

Jungkook is watching Namjoon just as cautiously as you. Like he expected him to be like that. Austere and unwilling to be forthcoming with information about himself. Telling yourself that he’ll adjust with time, you opt for a smile that’s sent Jungkook’s way - making the bunny hide behind Namjoon again. Almost like when a child is cautious and shys away from a stranger they meet. That’s what it was. A childlike innocence to Jungkook which awoke every instinct in you to protect him. Maybe that’s why his eyes had convinced you that you needed to take them home with you.

“Okay boys. I’ll show you to your rooms.” Furrowing your brows at the way Jungkook clutches Namjoon harder with panicked eyes, you turn around to look at them again.

“You don’t need to stay in separate rooms if you don’t want to, okay?” Namjoon regards you with a look before nodding - eyes cast down once again.

“Good. You both are very quiet but that’s okay - I can talk enough for the three of us.” The wink that you send Jungkook’s way only has him sputtering with embarrassment as the lovely rose tints his full round cheeks.

“But you do have to tell me when you are not okay with something, alright? I can’t read your pretty little heads.” As you say the last few words, your hand reaches out to shuffle the bunny’s peach hair.

What you don’t expect, is him flinching away so violently that even you are startled, taking a step back. Jungkook is hiding behind Namjoon completely now, shaking and you want to reach out. Say sorry and take it all back.

“I’m… I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”

“Hey, kook, it’s alright. It’s okay.” Namjoon’s voice reverberates through the quiet hallway, soothing the bunny’s shaking frame, whispering gentle assurances and you’re about to choke up.

What happened to him? Who did this to him. For him to be this scared. Watching Namjoon hug the shaking bunny tightly, sniffling away in his chest, only makes you feel more guilty at your brash treatment. Were you coming on too strong? God you were so out of your depth.

“I didn’t mean to scare you Jungkook. Honey..” You’re trying your best to reach out to him but the way Namjoon stands between you and him like a wall - it’s obvious he was waiting for something like this to happen. He was cautious of you and now his beliefs have been reinforced to not trust you or whatever nonsense he’s thinking.

You couldn’t blame him though. You really couldn’t.

“Please be careful, miss. He’s not a toy.” Namjoon’s voice trembles. Just the way - you now notice - his bottom lip does. He’s holding back tears and you really don’t know what to do. Except try your best to take their pain away.

“I’m.. I’m really sorry Namjoon. I didn’t mean to upset him.” You open the door to the room quickly, making sure there are blankets and pillows on the bed before coming out to tell them.

“Take him inside Namjoon. I’ll… I’ll leave you two alone, for now. Let me know if you need anything?” Namjoon merely nods, not being able to look you in the eyes but the bite of his lip tells you he’s trying to hold it together.

Jungkook’s hiccups catch your attention and you pull yourself out of your self-pity session. Only wanting to make sure that both of the hybrids are comfortable and just not feeling the way they are right now. Gesturing your head forward again, you nod at Namjoon when he looks at you one last time before heading into the room. The bunny holds onto Namjoon tightly, letting him walk into the room and when they are fully in - you close the door behind them. Giving them their privacy and also because you had a feeling they needed to be by themselves to really understand their current situation. That you were their new owner and this was their home.

A permanent home.

#bts smut #bangtan smut #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #btsghostie #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #jungkook fluff #namjoon fluff #ok hopefully this works #pls provide feedback i am hongry

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lavenderbexlatte · 3 years

Text

office hours

nct 1.8k words gender-neutral reader insert Reader x Qian Kun SUGGESTIVE/NSFW

🖤 warnings: vaguely inappropriate work relationships, kissing n’ touching, a boner 🖤

connect with me! / masterlist

“Any final questions before I let you go?”

You glance out over your small class of undergraduate seniors, anticipating the usual last-minute queries about due dates for next week or term definitions from your lecture today. These students are pretty bright, all things considered, and extremely attentive even though your senior seminar class meets in the morning.

That’s why the question that one of your back-row girls asks bowls you over as much as it does.

“Doc, do you think Professor Qian is cute?”

“Professor Qian? In the music department?” you ask, trying to hide how flustered you are.

“Yeah. D’you think he’s hot?” the girl repeats, grinning as she shoves her notebook into her bag without breaking eye contact with you.

“I guess…I’ve never really thought about it,” you say honestly.

The girl hums. “Well, I think he’s pretty hot.”

You get the feeling that she’s got an agenda, a feeling that’s only solidified when you see a few of your other students struggling to hold back laughter and smiling into their books. This is not gonna fly. They can’t make things weird for you, these little punks.

“Any other final questions?” you ask, “About the material?”

Heads shake around the room.

“Okay. Go home, and you better have your summaries to me by Sunday night!”

The students pick up their bags and their books and their Hydroflasks, and they leave the room in their ones and twos. As the last one bids you goodbye, and you’re left alone with your notes again, you sincerely hope to yourself that this isn’t going to become…a thing. These kids (young adults, actual grown adults, though you always think of them as kids) are far too old to be pulling shit like this on you.

Truly, deeply, sincerely, you hope that your 22-year-old student is not planning on trying to bag the music professor. That would be way too much trouble to have on your radar.

You sling the last of your class materials into your bag, and head for your usual stop after your ten o’clock class: the nearest dining hall. The school gives you free lunches on the days that you teach, so you might as well take advantage.

One trip through the buffet-style lines later, you’re balancing your full plate as you scan the room for an open table. The only one you can spot, however, is right next to a group of students, and holding court is none other than your senior girl with the apparent penchant for older men.

“-like a fucking idiot!” you hear one of the other students laughing, “He’s faculty. He’ll get fired.”

“Only if I snitch,” your student is saying.

“Or if literally anyone finds out,” says another one.

“No one would find out. No one would care,” your student dismisses. “Unless they’re in the music department, no one even knows who Qian is.”

So she’s really trying to fuck Qian Kun, huh?

It’s none of your business, really. But if this actually happens, and it even gets out that you knew and said nothing, it’ll be your ass on the line, too. And you’re really not one to fight important shit like Title IX. But the girls at the next table aren’t letting up, the conversation turning more and more raunchy and giving you a growing desire to plug yours ears with the shitty cafeteria napkins for some sense of deniability.

You stab at your meal, annoyed at the position that you’re in now, the liability you hold. Fuck.

You’re gonna have to go see this other professor, and head off this mess before it begins.

---------------

It’s rare that you’re on campus in any place but your own department, but you find yourself in the music building later that evening. You’d done a quick snoop on the faculty page and found Professor Qian’s office hours, and decided that sooner is better. If you can get to him before your (admittedly pretty and fit and 22) student does, then maybe you can spare everyone the headache.

His office is tucked at the end of the hall, farthest from the doors into the building. Lucky him, you think. Your own tiny office is smack in the middle, with essentially no privacy as other faculty and students come and go all day long. The door is shut when you reach it, but the light inside is on, so you knock.

“Just a sec!”

You oblige, waiting and praying to anyone who’ll listen that you’re not about to see a very familiar coed behind this door.

But no. When finally, the door opens, all you see is Professor Qian.

He’s not someone you know well, or someone you see often, and maybe that’s why you spend such an awkward amount of time just looking at him. Your first extremely stupid thought is that your student is kind of right: he’s cute. Thick brown hair, neat eyebrows, a jawline that makes him look like a goddamn marble sculpture…

“Can I help you?” he asks.

You nod, mentally kicking yourself for being weird. “Yeah, hi. Can I come in?”

Qian Kun gives you a brilliant gentle smile that reveals deep dimples, and gestures you into his (blessedly empty) office. You introduce yourself, give him your name and your department, and after a cordial handshake and pleasantries, stood in the middle of the tiny space, you decide to just come right out and say it.

“I have a student who I think you know,” you say, “She’s a senior and a double-major.”

He asks for her name, and you give it.

“Yeah, she’s in my senior seminar,” Professor Qian tells you.

“Mine, too,” you say, “And she’s gotten a little…TOO comfortable in class, lately.”

His grin turns lopsided. “Are we talking eating without permission, or something less tasteful?”

“She has made it clear that she’s interested in some things involving you. And her. And sex,” you tell him, fighting to keep your voice level and not actually die of embarrassment.

Now the grin disappears entirely. “Seriously?”

You nod, “The exact words I heard were ‘he’s super stacked and I want to-‘”

“Whoa, okay!” Professor Qian cuts you off, “Okay, yeah. No.”

“Professor, I’m sure you know this, but I can’t let anything like that happen. We’ll both get canned,” you say.

“Kun.”

“Pardon me?”

“Call me Kun,” he says, “We’re colleagues, don’t need to dance around titles.”

“Kun,” you repeat, “Alright. But you – you’re not going to-”

“Christ, no,” Kun says emphatically, looking scandalized.

“Good. This has been the most thoroughly uncomfortable conversation of my whole career, but good,” you say.

“I would rather you bring it up to me than let things get worse,” he assures you.

“I’m sure it’s flattering to know that students are interested,” you joke. “Sort of wish I was that kind of attractive.”

Kun laughs. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’ve always thought you were attractive.”

Your brain comes screeching to a halt so quickly, you’re sure Kun can hear as it slams on the breaks and leaves you confounded and blinking at him. He has the presence to look a bit sheepish, having just turned this around on you.

“I’m sorry, was that too much?” he says, running a hand through his hair nervously.

“Unexpected but appreciated,” you reply. “And what do you mean, ‘always?’”

Kun shrugs, leaning back against his desk. “We share a lot of students. They talk about you, that makes you stand out, I see you around. Frequency bias.”

You crack a smile. “So, I come here to save you from one of my horny students, only to find you’re my secret admirer, is that it?”

“You could say that.”

He looks amused but not smug, satisfied but not cocky. The way he’s leaning his weight back on the sturdy wooden desk makes it really difficult not to notice his strong thighs in their fitted slacks, or his chest against the thin fabric of his shirt.

Maybe you were a little harsh, before, judging your student’s attraction to him. You can see the appeal. Completely.

You take a step closer to him, which isn’t difficult given the extremely limited space in the office. “You spend a lot of time thinking about me?”

“A completely normal amount of time,” he replies.

“What kinds of things do you think about?”

Kun reaches toward you suddenly, and then hesitates, leaving his hand hovering in the general direction of your hip. Fascinated, you cover his hand with yours and bring it down to meet your side, as he intended.

“How you always look so put-together but act so cavalier,” he says, finally. “How the kids say you curse in lecture and sit cross-legged on your desk and watch TikToks on your phone, but also grade harder than anyone in your department.”

You hadn’t known that anyone noticed those things. Not your students, and least of all some random colleague.

“So what do you wanna do about it?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Well,” says Kun, taking hold of your hip more firmly, “Since you’re right here, and the door is shut, and you’re not one of my students…”

You laugh, and his smile makes those dimples pop out again.

“Then,” he says, “Then I think I wanna do this.”

You can say with absolute certainty that you didn’t come here to kiss Qian Kun, but that’s exactly what’s happening. He kisses calm and steady, and you’re ready to about melt into his arms. It’s just a few gentle presses of your lips against his, until he suddenly grabs you around the waist and spins the both of you, so that you’re the one up against the desk.

He lifts you the little bit so that you can sit on the cold surface of it. You move your legs to either side of his hips, and he groans a bit as he draws even closer. As he settles his body against yours, you can feel the barest beginning of an erection pressing against your inner thigh.

“Excited already?” you ask, amused, as Kun traces a path of kisses across your jaw.

“Maybe,” he replies, “Are you complaining?”

“Not at all.”

He laughs at that, which makes you laugh, and you hook your arm around his neck to bring his mouth back to yours. You could get used to this, you think, as one of Kun’s hands sneaks down to jerk your button-up out from where it’s tucked into your nice jeans. As soon as he has access, that hand goes right up your shirt to find purchase-

KNOCK KNOCK.

You jump, and Kun glances over his shoulder at the door, panic evident on his face. Before he can call out to tell whomever it is to wait a second, the door swings open.

“Hey, Qian, I had a question about the performance review for-”

Of course, it’s her. Your student, the very same one with the hots for Kun, walking headlong into the office. When she finally looks up and sees you there, on the desk, legs spread and Kun between them, she freezes.

“I…” she sputters, “I – I guess I’ll come back later.”

“Close the door behind you,” Kun agrees.

She nods, looking mortified. “Yeah, yeah, of course. S-see you on Monday, Doc!”

#nct #nct fanfic #qian kun #qian kun scenarios #nct kun #nct kun scenarios #wayv kun #wayv #tw power imbalance

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bisexual-horror-fan · 3 years

Text

"Crescendo." Warwick Wilson X AFAB!Reader.

Hey! So I know, I know, I still got asks in my box and am commited to those but it has been a minute since I have done something fully for me and totally self indulgent! So that means some Warwick Wilson. I have always wanted to do a follow up to this piece I did back in Feb, Upon His Table, that, as well as this are movie spoiler free so read away with no fear if you haven't seen the movie! Hope you all dig this and enjoy this follow up!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 6.4K. Warwick Wilson X AFAB!Reader. Warnings. Teasing. Dirty Talk. Edging. Asking For Permission. Asking For Forgiveness. Punishment Play. Fingering. Public Shenanigans. Oral Sex. Blow Jobs. Road Head. Vaginal Sex. Creampie.

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Crescendo.

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You wanted to kiss your friend.

You wanted to thank them profusely, take them out for dinner or at the very least send them an edible arrangement for the part they played in this. If it wasn’t for the fact that your friend was late that night at that art exhibit you might not have ever met him and that was simply unthinkable now.

You fit together so well, couldn’t be happier with him honestly.

He was drawn to you inexplicably that first night and struck up conversation over the painting you were looking at and it was a fantastic choice on his part, you had impressed him with your knowledge and insight. You looked great and your opinions were incredible, the conversation continued as you both viewed more art and he had such a great time. He was into you and if the way you were looking at him was any indication you were very much into him in return. Just when he thought you couldn’t get better, you surprised him. He had to run, unfortunately, but wanted to get your information, more than just your name and instead you suggested something totally wild and out of left field, suggested as you called it a serendipitous act of faith, call it for now and if you run into each other again to hold on and not let go.

He never could have anticipated you saying that but he was so utterly enamored by you that he simply couldn’t turn you down, as much as he wanted to do everything possible to get to know you at that very moment he decided listening to you was imperative. He agreed. And so you both bid farewell and while it took a few days for you to be kicking yourself for not getting his number, for him it was that very night when he was back at his job that had so cruelly cut your first meeting so short.

Luckily he ended up finding you. It was over a week later, he was out grabbing some lunch and on the way back to work when he saw you, he had to pause, looking at you sitting at that table outside. You were drenched in the afternoon sunlight, pouring over an open book, drink and pastry in front of you and he knew he couldn’t wait a moment longer as he strode to you and took the seat opposite, unable to stop his smile as he said simply, “Found you.”

And thank God he did.

That was the start of you two dating and it was kind of unbelievable how well you two meshed and got along, bonding over art and literature and food, it was wonderful.

And speaking of wonderful, that first night that he brought you to his house with the offer to cook you dinner fit that word perfectly. The food was amazing, the conversation was mentally stimulating and painfully fraught with ample flirtation and it escalated so the first time you got truly physical beyond basic kissing happened on his dining room table. He ate you out with care and skill that made your head swim, edged you beautifully and one hundred percent on purpose, you used your own mouth on him and were a bit too cheeky and ended up bent over the table. You were treated to the simply exquisite feel of him sinking inside of you for the very first time, stretching you beautifully, you were made to hold on as he fucked you and it was better than you ever could have dreamed of.

You might have gotten just a bit too into it however, hands gripping that white table cloth, twisting and tugging on it and in the throes of ecstasy you pulled too hard and tipped your wine glass, spilling the sweet pink alcohol and making such a mess.

He stopped with you on the bleeding edge of what promised to be a mind melting orgasm, calling you out on the mess you made and wondering out loud just what he should do with you. What he did to you really sealed the deal that yes you two were in for something special in being together, that this was the right call and utterly amazing, that you were compatible on every level, not just mental and emotional or on interests but on that oh so important physical frontier.

He told you that if you wanted to make a mess then he might just be in the mood to make a mess too, and what better thing to make a mess of than you? He held still, cockwarmed you and made you apologize, beg for his forgiveness, barely moving at all in you, one of his hands snaked around you, fingers pressed to your aching clit and if it weren’t for the table supporting your weight surely your legs would have given out. You begged as he wished, pleaded, and finally when he deemed it good enough, truly believed your words he set to it again, he fucked you and made you come for that first time and you nearly sobbed, his name the only thing on your tongue.

Once wasn’t good enough.

On it went and by the end of it you were three orgasms deep and your legs wouldn’t stop shaking and he came over your ass and let the sticky evidence of his pleasure run down your ass and over the backs of your thighs as you feebly attempted to catch your breath.

He checked in to make sure you were fine. You were more than fine, you fucking loved every second of it and made sure he knew. You loved how he was so seemingly proper and could carry on conversation about the most intelligent of pursuits and cook the best food and then fuck you like that; insanely well and with heat and a dominative aspect and nigh reckless abandon.

He proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that you really could have it all.

And all of that and more is what led you to wanting to find some way to thank that friend of yours for setting you down this path with him. You’d been seeing each other for a couple of months now and couldn’t be happier. The physical aspect was still fairly new, you two didn’t rush into it, taking weeks upon weeks to reach that point but now that you had? Keeping your hands off of each other was essentially impossible if you were in private.

Tonight was a big deal.

Your dates so far have been an amazing time but you hadn’t done anything crazy, most of your first dates were day dates, sightseeing and lunches and things pertaining to art and culture and history, lunches and walking in parks, all more casual and freeform. Until that dinner he hosted just for you of course but even still you hadn’t gone out together at night, just had some admittedly very fun nights in. He told you he had taken care of everything and knowing him you were positive he planned it all with as much finesse and care he put into everything he did. All he told you was to not eat and to dress up, like really dress up and so you listened, the tone he used on the phone with you was delicious and you couldn’t help but let your mind run wild wondering with thoughts of what he might have planned.

He was coming by your apartment for the first time in order to pick you up. You had made the trek to his place instead of him coming over thus far and you were so fine with that, I mean he actually owned his own house and while you loved your apartment his place was much admittedly nicer.

You were practically vibrating with excitement as you got ready. You hoped that what you had was nice enough, you might have gone out and gotten a new dress just for the occasion, what could you say? You wanted to impress him as much as he impressed you on a constant basis.

You weren’t planning on staying here but you cleaned up all the same, it was the first time he was seeing your place after all, and just as you were making sure you had everything in your clutch and slipping into your heels, almost as if it was on cue, there was a knock at your door. You strode to the door and pulled it open to find him there ready and waiting, perfectly on time as expected, even more dressed up than usual, which for a man like him who seemingly lived in suits was saying something. He was looking away and upon opening the door he took in the sight of you and the smile that crossed his face as he looked you up and down, you were so curious about what he might have to say about how you were dressed and he didn’t keep you waiting as he spoke, “Well look at you. Making me feel underdressed.”

How did he always know just what to say?

“You’re one to talk you big flatterer.”

You reached for the lightswitch near the door as you asked, “Ready to go?”

“What? Aren't you going to invite me in?” He asked it in a tone that read as being mock-offended and you were tempted but you knew it could go one of two ways, you knew yourself and you knew him and if you invited him in that you might not end up leaving at all tonight, might get too wrapped up in each other. Or the alternative, you could invite him in and allow him to tease you relentlessly and rile you up and THEN go out while making a mess in your panties and not get any relief until hours later, after whatever he had in store for you both tonight.

So you took the third option, not allowing him inside at all. “And let you mess up my outfit and make-up before we even go anywhere? Not a chance.” You teased him in return, turned off the light with a smile and stepped out, door shut and locked. He snapped his fingers as he said, “Damn.” and after putting your keys in your bag you took his hand and said, “Maybe next time Warwick.”

“Promise?” He asked hopeful and you nudged him with your shoulder and a light laugh, a nod as you said, “Promise.”

Soon you were in his car and on your way, he still hadn’t eluded to what you were going to do tonight, he did however have much to say about how good you looked and you loved the attention from him. You were sure to make your own thoughts on his appearance crystal clear and he took those compliments graciously, after that he asked if you wanted to know what he had planned and you told him of course you were dying to know. He told you to open the glove box and take a look, you did and fished out an envelope, he encouraged you to open it and you did so, pulling out two tickets and you gasped upon reading them, “Warwick! Are you kidding me?! I thought these were sold out for months! How’d you get your hands on these?”

He was grinning and glanced from the road to you, “Oh I have my ways, certain connections. So I take it you’re excited?”

Excited was an understatement. He managed to score seats to this amazing, professional symphony concert, one you had been simply dying to attend but of course had sold out near instantly, the fact he got his hands on them was astonishing, you knew he wanted to attend but also knew that he had definitely got them mostly for you, if his intention was to impress you then he achieved that.

“So excited! This is amazing, thank you!”

You would have to come up with some way of showing your appreciation and thank him properly. He said that you were welcome and he had been really looking forward to this, but first things first it was time for dinner. He picked the restaurant, naturally, and the dressing up made perfect sense, not just for the symphony but for this too, it was by far the nicest place you had ever been in. He assured you it was his treat and to not worry about how much it would be and you weren’t about to argue, you knew it would be futile so why press the issue. You were looking over the menu and noticed the lack of prices but tried not to let that bother you, he said he had it covered and you trusted him.

Speaking of trusting him you asked for his opinion on what to get and he brightened at that, he had good taste and you made sure he knew that. Once the food arrived asking him was obviously the right call, it tasted fantastic. Spirited conversation started over dinner, you had found your way onto the topic of one of his previous dinner parties, you inquired what the best one he felt ever hosted was.

There was this look on his face, kind of wistful as he recalled it to you, he talked about the food he made and how his usual friends were in attendance and how that dinner party escalated into drinking and dancing, and general revelry, but part of what made made it really special was this one guest who was in attendance. You asked about this guest and the way he talked about him only made you more curious, “His name is John and he is without a doubt the best guest I have had, he made the night so exciting, utterly unforgettable. He had such panache.” Hmm. Good word. You couldn’t help but wonder what made him use it, what made John have such panache.

“Oh don’t tell me all of that. I am already nervous enough for when I finally get invited to one. All of your friends sound so interesting, however am I supposed to measure up?” You pulled your glass up and took a sip, damn the wine he picked was again, fantastic and had the added effect of soothing your nerves just a touch. You were genuinely excited to get to go to one of his dinner parties but everyone he regularly invited seemed so damn put together, you were worried about fitting in, every time it came up you got a little nervous.

“Don’t tell me that little miss serendipity herself is worried about being interesting enough for my friends.” His hand was on yours and you gave a small nod, smiling however, you didn’t admit it but you liked the nickname he had given you based off your first meeting, “Okay, maybe just a little.”

“You have nothing to worry about, I am sure they will be just as smitten with you as I am.”

And that made you smile wider, ‘smitten’ he used the word smitten to describe his feelings for you and it certainly did something to bolster your confidence. The rest of dinner was lovely, conversation had continued and moved on and over dessert, creme brulee, his suggestion, you were looking down at it, “Good choice. Been years since I have had it.”

“One of my personal favorites, why’s it been so long since you have had it?” He asked, spoon coming down and cracking his open in a rather satisfying manner and you figured since he shared earlier you could recount a memory of your own.

“Reminds me of someone no longer in my life. First guy I was ever really into made it for me. I was at this theater camp, working in the kitchen, he was lead cook and I helped, we became friends and then more than that. It happened over the course of one summer and I totally fell for him.” He had his spoon in his mouth as he was listening to you and once you took a pause he removed it, “Sounds like a very lucky guy. What happened then?”

You let out a sigh and a slight shrug of your shoulders, you couldn’t tell him what really happened, so you edited, “Summer ended, so did our little romance, we both left camp and lost touch. Creme brulee always makes me think of him so for the longest time I just didn’t partake in it.”

“Too many memories.” He said and you hummed with a nod and finally brought your own spoon down, splitting the sugary crust and scoop some up, bringing up that first spoonful and when it hit your tongue you couldn’t help your eyes falling closed or the moan you let out around the dessert. “Damn.”

You realized what you said and opened your eyes, looking to him and he gave you a particular look, a small warning, ‘damn’ was a pretty inoffensive curse word but still one all the same and you were at the table. Sharing a meal. You knew better. You bit your bottom lip and knew he wouldn’t do anything here, not out in public like this but you thought you just might end up paying for it later, you did your best to look apologetic and he had his arms crossed on the table in front of him, leaning forward on his forearms as he asked, “Good?”

“Very good.” You admitted, “Don’t know why I waited so long.” Were you talking about the dessert or about being with him? He was smiling wide and with a nod said, “Well eat up then, enjoy it to your heart's content darling.”

You couldn’t say no to that. Seems he was dropping the fact you swore for now and you finished the dessert with gusto. Drinks were finished and he paid and soon you were off again.

It felt good. Being actually out and about with him, on his arm, you felt great about it, felt important and special and more. The seats he managed to get you were pretty damn nice you had to admit. You were so excited for this, nearly thrumming with energy and barely able to believe you were really here and getting to do this, share this experience with him.

It was his hand that pulled you out of your thoughts, starting on your knee and your attention pulled down to look at his hand, his fingers started to trail up your leg, he was leaning over and whispered to you, “I really love this dress on you.” His touch as light as he traced over your skin, dragging up your leg, your eyes glanced up to see his own eyes down, watching as he moved, “The skin it shows is simply divine.”

God the way he said that word, it sounded nearly sinful, you were glad you knew his taste so well already, when you tried it on you knew the slit that ran so high up your thigh would please him. His gaze caught yours and while you were distracted with that his hand didn’t stop, his touch was so bold for being in public, fingertips dipping under the fabric of your dress, he could feel the soft and delicate lace of what you had on underneath. The lights dimmed and it was about to start and your eyes widened and your hand made a move to grab his wrist and he said in a firm tone, “Don’t.”

“Warwick…” It left you rushed and very quietly, trying to beg him quietly to not do this, not here, not now. He leaned in closer to make sure you could hear him and only you could hear him as the music started he told you, “If you didn’t want this then you shouldn’t have said what you did at dinner.”

God.

You knew you were going to pay for it but you didn’t expect to be paying for it so soon or so publicly. It was dark, no one was looking at you and now with the music starting there was no way that anyone could hear you if you made any sounds. But even with all of that, you still didn’t want to do this here. His eyes were still looking into yours, “I’m sorry.” you mouthed to him and he smirked, his fingers moved closer between your legs, another attempt, “Please?” and a small shake of his head told you that no, you were simply going to have to endure this.

He was leaning back comfortably in his chair, his hand still on your thigh, fingers curling over soft flesh, resting so close to your heat, right fucking there, the pressure was apparent. You were sitting back in your own chair, hands on the arm rests of the chair, just anticipating, waiting for it.

You got swept up in it. The music was fucking amazing. You were utterly enraptured listening to it, you actually managed to forget about the threat of what he was going to do for now.

Until he started doing it.

He was unfairly good with his hands. He was still only over your underwear but it felt incredible all the same. The movement wasn’t even intense, it didn’t need to be, he was well aware of how much of an effect it was having on you, the fact of where you were was what was amplifying it. In such a public and fancy setting, the way you were dressed too, looking so fucking proper and put together and here he was, touching you with no one else aware of it even though there were people seated all around you.

His fingers traced over you, fingers slipping over your clit, slow circles with decent pressure, it made your grip the arm rests hard, knuckles nearly white, trying to control your breathing and your face, not giving away what he was doing.

He didn’t touch you through the whole performance. It was on and off and purposeful. You could only hide so much from him, he could feel how much you tensed, the ways your thighs pressed closer together and other small signs, knowing just went back off, hand going back to resting on your thigh.

Your heart was racing, chest rising and falling, breathing harder than you probably should but the music was loud, no way you could be heard, your eyes fell closed and your hips tilted forward slightly, pushing into his hand, trying to get some more contact, it wasn’t dignified but you were desperate, you wanted more. He continued, pressure increased, bottom lip tugged on with your teeth, you were getting so close, he had stopped and started so many times now it didn't take much for you to hit the edge again.

He wasn’t stopping.

You were wondering when, or IF he would stop this time, what his goal was. To rile you up, make you a mess once again in this public setting or to actually do that, take you all the way there and make you cum out in the open. You didn’t think he would do that before but right now he wasn’t slowing at all, and you didn’t want him to.

He pressed on and you got closer still, toes curling in your nicest pair of heels and the intensity of the music rose as did the pleasure inside and you realized that yes, the bastard had every intention of doing that, and he did it with impeccable timing too. As the music hit its crescendo, so did you, you managed to suppress your shaking but unable to stop yourself, you knew no one could hear you, were sure not even he could hear you over the music, even if it was for you and you alone you gasped his name in awe and reverence.

It was entirely unforgettable.

He had given you so much already by bringing you here and giving you this wonderful experience you had wanted so badly and in typical Warwick fashion he found the best way to elevate it, improve upon it and make it something truly unique.

You had barely come down from your orgasm, still heaving when the applause started and his hand was out from between your legs and instead on your arm, you were pulled up on your heels, legs still trembling and eyes opening to see everyone else up, a standing ovation. Your smile broke out as you joined in, clapping and just trying to stay upright, you glanced at him and he looked very pleased with himself and damn right he should, he had a plan and executed it beautifully, you were pretty pleased yourself.

After the excitement had died down and people were beginning to leave you retrieved your clutch from under your chair and when you came back up he had those fingers he used on you in his mouth. You swallowed hard and asked, “Do you want to go back to your place?”

You left pretty giddy and hanging off his arm, excited for the rest of the evening you had ahead. The second you were in the car you playfully smacked his arm with the back of your hand, “I cannot believe you just did that!” “Really? Because I think it totally seems like something I would do.” He teased and you conceded, “Alright, alright-” “Besides I think you loved it.” Your seatbelts we’re done up and he was pulling out of the spot and you teased, “How can you be so sure?”

“I was looking at you.”

What?

His eyes were on the road and yours were on him. He continued, “Everyone else was looking ahead, watching those musicians play and I couldn’t do anything but watch you. I saw every little way it played out on your face and even though I couldn’t hear it, I saw it.” He glanced at you, “You gasped my name. Am I right?”

Fucking hell. You were falling for him way too fucking hard and way too fucking fast. You couldn’t say it, weren’t about to pull a Schmosby and risk ruining all of this, not a chance.

“Yes.”

Is what you said instead and you wanted to do so much and then the realization hit. Why not? Why couldn’t you. What was holding you back? He was so good at it and did it constantly, teased you amazingly and the way you were feeling, how much he had riled you up was totally his fault, he deserved some of his own medicine.

Your hand was on his inner thigh but it didn’t stay there for very long, dragging up and you caught how his grip on the steering wheel tightened, he asked, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Just focus on the road.”

Easier said than done. You palmed him through his pants and felt him shift under your touch, he kept his eyes forward and you kept yours on him, he was normally so good at playing it cool but you knew what you just did back there got to him too even if he kept his composure outwardly. You wanted to make him break apart, crack the facade, you needed it, you teased him until he felt painfully hard under your touch and you haven’t even gone skin to skin yet.

You leaned in closer to him and asked softly, “You okay Warwick?” He cleared his throat and gave a short nod, “Yes, fine.”

Your other hand joined the first and you started to undo his belt, “Just fine?” A hum from him and you continued, “Well I think we can do a hell of a lot better than just fine.” And once your hand was in his pants, closing around him, grip decently tight you watched his lips part a quiet gasp and you felt power in that moment and it was delicious.

You started to stroke him, slowly, grip tightening and you could see him start to struggle a bit, focusing on the task of driving was a getting more and more difficult and you really shouldn’t be doing this, it was dangerous and stupid but it was just so fun. So enjoyable and you decided to push it even further. Your seatbelt was adjusted and you shifted in your seat, tucking a loose bit of hair behind your ear and leaning down, you were a mere few blocks from his place so he wouldn’t have to endure this for long. You had no intention of finishing him here but you wanted to up the game, try and match this even a little bit with what he did to you earlier. Your tongue left your mouth and licked over his head and you could already taste pre-cum, you must have gotten to him more than you had anticipated, you heard the harsh intake of air above you, a soft groan of your name and you pushed onwards.

You had never actually given road head before and weren’t sure if he had received it but even if he had he still seemed to be really enjoying it, why wouldn’t he though? Of course he did when you did it like that. Even with the off angle you really were giving it your all, and if how tense he felt under you and the way he groaned when you pushed him as deep inside as you could manage was anything to go by he was having a hard time handling it. In a few short minutes of you bobbing up and down his cock, messily sucking and allowing hums and moans around him to slip out, he was unable to stay still, bucking up slowly into your mouth.

You felt him make a turn and believed that was the last turn onto his street, your hand on his inner thigh, squeezing as you decided to really push it. You increased the pace, fucking your mouth on him and the choked moan of your name from him made you press your thighs together again, you were drenched and wanting. You lost yourself in the motion of it, you knew you were good at what you did and took pride in it, as you rightfully should. Soon you felt the car stop, he put it in park and turned it off and you were coming up, mouth wet from the effort of what you did to him and with you so close his hand was on your neck and pulling you to him, his mouth crashing into yours.

So there you were, furiously making out in his car, hands grabbing onto each other, desperate for more, in between kissing and rushed breathing he told you, “You’re terrible, you know that?” That made you laugh, pulling back to speak and instead of giving you space he instead leaned further forward, his hands were on your back and he pulled you closer to him, kissing your neck making that same laugh break off in a moan, “Me? Wha-what about you?”

Your hands went to his shoulders and pushed on him lightly, he pulled back as he repeated the same sentiment of what he said earlier, “Don’t pretend you didn’t love it.”

You couldn’t argue and so you didn’t, hand on the collar of his dress shirt, pulling him closer as you said, “Shut up.” Another deep kiss that he didn’t protest as he tucked himself back into his pants and you needed to get inside already, you shifted your hips and it was a reminder of how soaked you were and you needed to deal with that already. You were surely both looking a little disheveled as you exited the car and made your way up the walkway, not able to keep off of each other, but it was dark and late and who the fuck cares, it felt too good. You did have to actually pause for a moment to allow him to unlock the door, bless him he tried but you were quite the handful at the moment and didn’t make it an easy task. Second the door was open and you were both inside that was rectified, Christ he was a good kisser, dinner was hours ago and you only had a glass of wine but you felt drunk off of him.

After all the build up, the fact that you were now fully alone meant there wasn’t a single thing left standing in the way. You still had so much time, no reason to rush but with how turned on you both were it was impossible to stop, couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. He had this sitting room that was right near the front door, it was a nice room, fireplace, hard wood floors, tastefully decorated but most important for right now, a couch. He was the one to lead you there, you were the one to push him back onto the cushions and straddle him, back to kissing him and the possessive way he returned it made you melt just a little, hands on his jacket, helping him remove it. Jacket is thrown aside and he is loosening his tie and you are reaching back, hands pulling your heels off and letting them drop to the floor and you move your hips forward and back, grinding on him and it makes you finally break your heated kissing, your head falls back with a soft moan. He took advantage of his opportunity. Hands on your waist, grinding up onto you and you responded immediately, hips moving with him, feeling how hard he was and you felt almost painfully empty right now.

“Warwick. Fuck. Pl-please?” You sounded wrecked already, desperate and he loved that he could get you to that point, do that to you. He was feeling a little drunk himself at the moment, looking up at you in the moonlight coming through the window and the way your lipstick had smeared, hair out of place, grinding on him and weakly begging him to ruin you, break you open, so in need you couldn’t wait to get down the hallway to his bedroom or for either of you to fully get your clothes off. “Please?” he repeated and you nodded frantically-

“Please, God, please-” and his grip tightened on your waist and he moved you, soon you were on your back, he was on his knees on the floor. His hands slid down and caught the hem of your dress starting to push it up and you aided him, tugging the bottom of your dress up and as soon as he could see them he took a moment to admire what you had worn just for him before ripping them down your thighs, thrown aside.

The tension was ridiculous, you watched as he removed his belt, dying to get him inside of you already, thankfully the wait wasn’t long until his pants were far enough out of the way, his hands on your hips, tugging you further down the couch. Your legs were spread for him, and he was on top of you, lined up and finally sinking inside of you and the relief made your breath catch before moaning his name. He was seated inside of you, he breathed your name in return and his hands were on your thighs, your legs wrapped around his hips and he started to move. There was this moment, this shared gasp upon him pulling out before driving back in fully, you both felt it, something different about this, electric felt like a fitting word, far better than it had any right to, one of your hands scrambling for purchase on the couch cushion below you.

“Oh my God-” You moaned, eyes closing, his breathing was heavy, your other hand reached up and wrapped around his loosened tie around his neck, tugging on it, pulling him closer, you were practically on fire for him. How into it was really driving him forward, he wanted so much more, to pull every possible sound he could from you, he fucked into you harder and you gave him just what he wanted, rewarded his efforts with those beautifully melodic moans and sweet gasps, rocking with him, legs pulling him closer still. You felt incredible wrapped around him, soaked and so hot, writhing under him, it was too good. You were too fucking good, no way could he last like this but who said this would be the only time this would happen tonight?

Your hand tugged on his tie, leaning up, kissing him again, messy and with tongue, he returned it with equal hunger, a groan into your mouth, you tasted amazing, better than the dinner you shared earlier by a mile. It was getting to be too much for you too, getting close again, you tugged on his tie again, breaking the kiss with a whimper, “Close.” his forehead rested on yours, the only other sound was skin on skin from the pace, how hard he was fucking into you, nearly panting, “Me too-”

“Inside, Warwick pleas-ah!” And you cried out as your second orgasm of the night overtook you, legs locked around him, back arching as he didn’t stop, fucking you through your high and as yours was ending his started and his name was on your tongue as he came inside of you. God it was good, he slowed and finally stopped still buried in you, both of you breathing so hard, you kissed him again, softer, sweeter and let go of his tie, you started to slowly untangle from each other. He pulled out and the excess of the both of you spilled forth, thank God the couch was leather, could be easily wiped off or you were sure you’d be paying for that and not financially.

You spoke first, “You are too good at that.” A light laugh from him, he was sitting up on his knees, finally removing his tie fully as he asked, “There is such a thing as being too good?”

You propped up on your elbows, “There is such a thing as having a mouth that is too smart.” “I can give you that. But you just won’t stop talking.” Again that playful way he said it, before you could retort he was speaking once more, “You better be careful leaving tomorrow by the way.”

“Oh? And why’s that?” You asked and he was smirking, “That way too nosy neighbor of mine caught a pretty good view of us on the way in.” Your hand came up to your face with a groan, “Goddamn it.”

He had leaned over and grabbed a box of tissues so he could clean up the mess on the couch as he said, “You know she wouldn’t be a problem if you had me over to your place.”

Fuck. He was right. Maybe next time you should have him back to yours.

#BHF writing #AYYYY!#I am SO happy with this!#Hope everyone else vibes!#Warwick Wilson #Warwick Wilson X Reader #The Perfect Host (2011)

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aspenflower17 · 4 years

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Finding You (Part One of ??)

Hello everyone! So, @simpingforsatan threw this awesome fic idea out into the void of Tumblr and I was fortunate enough to run across it. I’ll be posting it in a couple different parts. If this goes over well, I’ll do the other brothers too :) This part is mostly just setting up the story (I promise it gets more interesting in the future!)

Mc / Satan

Word Count: 2249 (I can’t write short things apparently)

Warning: talk of dying, violence(?), F! Mc

Mc was thrilled. Simeon and Luke assured her it was a huge honor to be promoted to angel this quickly. The two had been so helpful helping her adjust to life in the Celestial Realm. She had had orientation just like everyone else, explaining that she had passed away and that yes, it was normal and even good she didn’t remember any of her life as a human. That way she wouldn’t be sad and could live in a blissfully happy state in the Celestial Realm.

It all would have been fine, had she not felt so lonely. Though everyone had been extremely kind, she couldn’t help feeling like there was someone, missing from her side as she laughed and chatted with everyone. When she told the angels what was going on, almost every single one of them told her she was probably just missing someone who hadn’t passed yet. It happened on occasion, but it just showed that they had been very close and that they would find each other again.

Simeon and Luke weren’t like that though. They just let her rant or cry whenever the feeling became too much for her to bear with a sympathetic nod and hug, with the occasional soft words of comfort.

As the time passed, and she still didn’t find who she was looking for, Mc grew very close to the two angels, which they were both delighted with. Though they didn’t fill the void, she felt at ease with them, like they were old friends. They told her her promotion was all due to her own merit, but she suspected they had something to do with it. So, of course when she was asked who she wanted her guardian angel to be, she chose Simeon.

The night before she was to be turned into an angel, she sat with Luke and Simeon in what was soon to be all of their’s living room. They were celebrating the fact she would soon join their family, and she was enjoying her last night as a… Well, whatever it was she was.

“So, I’ll turn into a child?” Though everything had already been explained, Mc wanted to make sure she knew everything.

“Yes. I’ll be put in charge of raising you, and Luke will help out as a big brother essentially.”

“And, I’ll still remember everything that’s happened here so far?”

“Yes, though it’s not as cut and dry as that. Though you’d will remember everything, you won’t really comprehend most of it.”

Mc nodded, the question she’d saved just for these two angels bubbling to the surface, “Will… Will I still feel lonely?”

Simeon and Luke shared a look, before turning back to Mc, “More than likely,” Simeon admitted.

“But,” Luke interjected, “We’ll be your new family, so you won’t be alone. You’re big brother will take care of you!”

“Thanks Luke. I am glad you accepted being my guardian angel Simeon.”

“My pleasure Mc.”

“Well, we are connected in so many ways, there’s no way we’d give you to someone else,” Luke said a bit haughtily.

“Wait… Connected? What do you mean?”

Luke threw his hand over his mouth, but tried to answer anyways, “Mothin. Don wor bou ih!”

“No. I really want to know,“Mc looked between the two angels who had averted their eyes, "Come on guys. Please?”

“You weren’t supposed to find out,” Simeon sighed, making Luke sink further into the chair he was sitting in. Mc waited, only slightly impatiently.

Finally, Luke sighed and looked her dead in the eyes, “I will only tell you if you promise not to dig further into what I’m going to tell you. You also have to promise you won’t tell any of the other angels I told you.”

“Of course,” Mc promised, her curiosity burning.

“Okay. Luke and I… met you during your human life.”

“Wait… You did?!”

“Yes.”

“Did I know you guys well?”

“Fairly well.”

“Is that why you guys are so nice to me?”

“All angels are nice Mc,"Luke reprimanded, sounding slightly offended.

"Well, yeah, but everyone else just kind of brushed off how I was feeling when I told them. You two were a lot more sympathetic.”

The angels looked at each other again, before Simeon answered, “Yes partially. We certainly wanted to help you since we knew you personally.”

“And the rest?”

“We’re angels. Of course we’re going to help.”

Mc eyed the Simeon, “You’re hiding something. You should know you’re really not a good liar,” to which Simeon started panicking, “But I promised not to pry,” which made him visibly relax. After a moment, Mc started again, “Can… Can you tell me… one… thing though?”

“… Possibly.”

“Do you know why I’m lonely? Why I feel like a part of me is missing?”

Simeon’s eyes and smile were sad as he answered, “Yes, I can guess as to why.”

“You can’t tell me though?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

Those soft words hurt, but Mc couldn’t blame Simeon. He wasn’t doing it out of spite.

“Well, I think it’s time for bed. You have a big day tomorrow and I need to make sure this place is still child proof.”

Mc bid them good night and started up the stairs to what would be her new room. As she climbed she made herself a promise, “I will figure it out one day though, and I’ll feel complete again.”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Mc looked around, bored beyond reason. Sim had been talking to Father for FOREVER! He’d even taken Big Brother with him, so now she had to wait all by herself in this big chair.

“Mc, is that you?”

“Michael!” Mc exclaimed happily, grinning up at him.

“What are you doing out here?” Michael asked, kneeling down besides Mc’s chair.

She threw her hands around his neck, “I’m waiting for Sim and Big Brother to be done talking to Father. He told me I needed to sit here unless he called me in. They’ve been gone for so long,” Mc sighed melodramatically.

Michael laughed heartily, making Mc smile despite her display, “Well, maybe this will help,” as he handed her a cookie.

Mc gasped delighted, “Big brother’s gunna be so jealous!” Mc giggled, biting into the cookie.

“I have another idea,"Michael whispered conspiratorially.

"What’s that?” Mc asked.

“Well, you might not be able to go in and check what’s taking so long, but I can. Do you want me to?”

“Oh! Please? I’ve been really good. I promise.”

“Of course Mc,"Michael laughed, standing up and ruffling her hair, before disappearing behind those huge double doors.

Mc munched on her cookie as she waited for Michael to work his magic. He’d been very kind to her in the past and seemed to always be able to help her. Luke had explained how amazing Michael after she’d first met him, and though she didn’t share the same fervor as her brother, she did think he was very nice and she liked that he never seemed to trivialize her problems even though he was a very important angel.

To her delight, she didn’t have to wait long. Shortly after she’d finished her cookie, Luke stuck his head out one of the doors, "Mc, it’s time for you to come in.”

Mc was suddenly a little shy as she hopped off the chair. She hadn’t met Father for a long time. She was also worried they wouldn’t be happy she hadn’t waited the whole time.

“Mc, how’d you get crumbs all over your face? Hold on,” Luke started wiping all the crumbs off Mc’s face. She looked down to see some on her dress which she started brushing off.

“There. Much better,” Luke smiled at her, taking her hand and leading her into the room.

Mc first saw Simeon looking slightly frustrated until he saw her. Luke lead her over to him, and he leaned over, “I’m so sorry it took so long,” he apologized softly.

“Mc,” the soft voice boomed through the room, “I’m so glad to see you. It’s been too long.”

“Hello Father,” Mc said softly, curtsying, finding it hard to fully meet his eyes.

“I do apologize for talking so long with Simeon. We were discussing something important.”

“That’s alright. I was waiting as patiently as I could.”

“That you were,” God smiled, making Mc swell a bit with pride, “I do need to ask you an important question.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, are you still feeling lonely?”

Really? That question again? “Kind of.”

“Hmmm… Do you feel lonely often?”

Every day. “Sometimes, but Sim and Luke help me feel better!”

“I’m still not convinced it’s a good idea Simeon. If she’s still feeling the absence of his presence, I worry for her memory.”

I can repect that Father, but wouldn’t it be better to know now if there’s going to be a relapse under supervision then if she went herself later on? After all, since the program began, we have become more friendly with them.”

“I agree with Simeon, Father,”Michael interjected, “We both know Simeon would never let any harm come to her.”

“Both of you?… Fine, If anything happens, you must come back straight away.”

“As you wish Father,” Simeon said, bowing, then turning, “Hey, Mc?”

The girl in question, who had been silently trying to figure out if there actually was a ceiling in the room or if it just opened up to the sky snapped her attention to Simeon, “Yes?”

“How would you like to take a family vacation with me and Luke?”

“Where to?”

“The Devildom.”

Mc, cocked her head, “Is that in the human realm?”

“Nope. It’s the realm where demons live.”

“And I get to go with?” Mc asked, bouncing a bit from foot to foot. She knew from listening to the other angels speak that going anywhere outside of the celestial realm was a big deal, especially when it wasn’t to the human realm.

“Yup. Father just gave his permission.”

“Oh. Thank you!” Mc practically shouted, turning towards the imposing figure in front of her.

“Of course, my child. Just, promise me, if you start to feel weird or uncomfortable, anything out of the ordinary, you tell Simeon.”

“I promise!”

“Good. Michael, if you could just show them out and the next group in.”

“Of course, Father,” and with that the long meeting was done, and a new trip to the Devildom started to be planned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Big brother!!! Look at that!”

“Yes, Mc.”

“Oh, and that!”

“MmmHmm…”

“Luke, Luke, Luke, what’s that?”

“Oww, it’s just a shop. Will you stop pulling my arm like that?”

“You’re the one that told me to hold your hand.”

“Well, yeah. It’s dangerous down here. That doesn’t mean you can dislocate it.”

Mc looked down dejectedly, and Luke immediately softened, “Oh, don’t do that. I’m sorry okay? I’m just not the biggest fan of this place.”

“Huh? But Sim said you guys had a lot of fun here.”

“He may have, but I didn’t. Most of the demons said I was a chihuahua, and even started calling me that. To be fair, I was… vocal… in my dislike of demons, but they should’ve understood I was only a child. Honestly, the only parts I really liked about being down here was baking with Barbados… And giving Beel food sometimes. Oh, and of course getting to know-” Luke cut off abruptly after looking at Mc.

“Getting to know who?”

“Uh, someone. It’s not important right now. What’s important is staying close to me. Demon’s aren’t something to mess with.”

“Okay, Big Brother,” and then after a little bit, “Hey, why don’t we go say hi to your friends?”

“Oh. No. I’m just here to show you around. Barbados is really busy, but you might get to meet him later. Beel might eat you, so we have to stay away from him. Hey, why don’t we go play at that park over there?” Luke, pulled her after him.

Mc shook her head. Simeon had already told her demon’s could be very scary, but they really weren’t as bad as everyone said. He had also explained that Luke still wasn’t a huge fan of demons, though he liked them more then he’d let on. After being in the Devildom a bit, Mc couldn’t believe it all bad. She’d been in very bad places in the human realm, and she could tell when they were bad, even without being told. She could tell bad things had happened down here, but it just all seemed so new but… familiar. Even the absence of the sun didn’t bother her.

“Hey Luke, let’s go-” Mc yelped, some magic narrowly missing her, and exploding as it landed.

“Mc!” Luke yelled, hauling her away as a fight broke out among some nearby demons. The park was fairly crowded, and soon chaos enveloped the two siblings. Somewhere in the chaos, Mc’s small hand slipped out of Luke’s. All she could see were tall legs everywhere, and the occasional tail.

“Big brother! Luke! Where’d you go? Luke!” Mc had the chance to shout, before a particularly thick tail smacked into her and sent her flying through the air. Hoping desperately her wings would choose this moment to show themselves, Mc tried to make herself fly. Unfortunately, that wasn’t in her future and she landed rather roughly on a pile of leaves. Though they broke her fall, she was knocked unconscious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Two Link

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marvelhead17 · 3 years

Text

The Tale of Eossimar (Original Female Character x Bofur Fic)

Chapter 9

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings to cover the whole fic: Fake relationships, half-blood children, mild violence, fight scenes, male/male relationships, Dwarf gender concepts, battle of five armies fix-it, pre-battle of five armies, near death incidents, talking to dead people, mentions of paradise/heaven.

As the sun rose that morning, Bofur and the others began to gear up without argument in the dimly lit rooms deep inside Erebor, fixing their braiding to ensure it was tight for the battle to come and securing their armour properly.

Out of habit Bofur scanned over his shoulder for Bilbo, for a moment he had worried but he relaxed when he found him standing with Thorin, he was being handed chain armour. Bofur swallowed as he understood that Thorin was meaning that the poor hobbit was to fight alongside them, even though he had no personal ties to Erebor.

They approached the rampart only to discover that they were faced with hundreds upon hundreds of Elves at their gate, King Thranduil rode confidently on his stag followed closely by Bard on his horse, and they easily passed in the middle of them.

Bofur was amazed by how uniform the soldiers were, as they stepped aside to let their King pass through without even turning their heads, before they fell back into place once again. As the two stopped in front of their armies Thorin raised his bow and arrow in hand, firing a quick warning shot at the feet of Thranduil’s stag.

“I will put the next one between your eyes,” he warned and the company laughed confidently, even Bofur found himself laughing at the sudden surprise in the Elf King’s eyes.

He felt his laughter die as soon as he recalled Nari saying the same threat to Prince Legolas not so long ago and his amusement quickly became dampened.

King Thranduil barely bobbed his head when his troops moved in synchronisation, and all readied their arrows at the dwarves, the company ducked down behind the ridges of the wall in panic, while their leader remained standing as he stared at Thranduil. The dwarves remained silent as they held their breaths, Thranduil raised his hand in the air and his men lowered their weapons.

“We have come to tell you, payment of your debt has been offered, and accepted.” Thranduil informed him, and the members slowly raised their heads over the wall in confusion.

“What payment? I gave you nothing, you have nothing.” He still held his next arrow at the ready.

Thranduil’s brows pricked up and he swept his gaze to Bard on his left briefly, the man dug into his inner coat and pulled out something that glistened in the sunlight, before raising it in the air for them to see it clearly.

“We have this,” Bard said, Thorin’s eyes widened and he lowered his weapon.

“They have the Arkenstone, thieves!” Kíli shouted, “How came you by the heirloom of our house? That belongs to the King!”

“And the King may have it,” he tossed the precious stone in the air playfully as it had no value to him, “With our good will,” and then tucked it back safely in his pocket. “But first, he must honour his word.”

Thorin shook his head as he whispered, “They are taking us for fools. This is a ruse, a filthy lie,” he spoke louder in spite of the dwarves’ disbelief, “The Arkenstone is in this Mountain! It is a trick!”

“It’s no trick, the stone is real, I gave it to them,” Bilbo informed him; the King froze for a moment and then faced the hobbit with a mad look in his eyes.

“You?” he questioned in disbelief.

“I took it as my fourteenth share,” Bilbo blinked several times as he tried to maintain his eye contact.

“You would steal from me?” His voice was harsh as he spoke.

“Steal from you? No, no,” he shook his head, “I may be a burglar, but I like to think I’m an honest one.” He stifled a little laugh through his nose, rocking nervously on the balls of his feet. “I’m willing to let it stand against my claim,”

“Against your claim? Your claim.” He gave Bilbo a mocking smile, “You have no claim over me, you miserable rat!” he threw down the bow and arrow, stepping closer to Bilbo as he did.

“I was going to tell you. Many times I wanted to, but-”

“But what, thief?” he growled.

“You are changed,Thorin.” He spoke sternly, “The dwarf I met in Bag-End would never have gone back on his word, would never have doubted the loyalty of his kin!”

“Do not speak to me of loyalty,” Thorin’s eyes began to well up, and he edged even closer to Bilbo, making Bofur’s heart pound relentlessly. “Throw him from the rampart!” he pointed at him, his eyes roamed over the rest of the group as nobody made to move to the fearful hobbit.

Thorin frowned back at them, grabbing Fíli by his chest plate, “Did you not hear me?!” he yelled and was taken aback when Fíli fought against him and pushed away, stepping back next to Balin. He looked around desperately, and then turned to face Bilbo, “I will do it myself. Curse you!” he seized him and forced him towards the edge of the wall.

Fíli, Bifur and Bofur all reached out in an attempt to rescue the hobbit as he struggled against the King’s grasp. “Cursed be the Wizard that forced you on this company!” he shoved Bilbo against the wall and the hobbit let out a scream.

“If you don’t like my burglar then please, don’t damage him.” Gandalf’s voice boomed over the panic and they all looked down, “Return him to me,” Thorin only stared blankly at the wizard who settled next to Bard and Thranduil, while Bilbo panted anxiously away. “You’re not making a very splendid figure as King under the Mountain are you, Thorin, son of Thráin?”

Thorin released the hobbit from his grasp and he nearly dropped face first into the ground, had it not been for Fíli and Bofur helping him, Bofur took him by the arm and guided him away while the King was distracted.

“Never again will I have dealings with Wizards!”

“Go,” Bofur whispered, encouraging Bilbo to leave with a gentle nudge.

“Or Shire rats!”

Bilbo tossed the rope that was attached to the wall over the edge, hastily climbing over and making a quick escape down the rope.

“Are we resolved, the return of the Arkenstone, for what was promised?” Bard asked, Thorin took uneven breaths as he stared out to the hills on the left, which were empty as far as Bofur could tell. “Give us your answer, will you have peace, or war?”

A raven landed in front of Thorin, cawing away as it eyed him, he faced them and without hesitation said, “I will have war.”

The guard had already bid their families goodbye as the sun shone over the mountain and cast a glow down on them, Callon led them through the tunnel that had once been abandoned and Nari watched as they walked on, she nodded at the more familiar faces that passed her way.

As the last of them went through Nari looked behind to ensure that no villager strayed their way, and she placed the warning sign back down where it had been for many years before, and then followed behind them. She raised her hand to cover her eyes as the sun was much brighter once they reached the opening of the tunnel. They gathered formally and she walked around to stand in front of them, a little surprised by the sheer number that were among them for a small village.

She was about to address them when a shadow flew over her head, she squinted up and raised her arm to let the owl land. She nipped at her owner’s ear and chirped; Nari listened carefully and smiled at Screech, raising her arm to let the owl roam free, and then facing her people once more.

“It’s good to see so many of us are here this morning, in actual fact I’m quite surprised by the number of ye,” some let out a little chuckle, “Those of ye who know of my little pet will know that she often brings me news from the outside, and I’ve just learned that the people of Lake-Town have made settlement within the old City of Dale,” a few people now muttered and she cleared her throat.

“And for many of ye, it was once the home to previous generations of yer families, and for others it was where yer parents were able to make a living from their craft.” They nodded their agreements, “Since there are so many of us, I’d like at least half of ye to go to Dale, the people there have suffered enough grievances these past days and they are essentially defenceless.”

Callon walked up next to his sister, “Now we have no idea what we may be facing out there today, it could be the usual orc scum or something much worse. What we do know is, we must protect the line of Durin so that the Kingdom may be opened and thrive once again. Now who’s with me?” he raised his fist in the air and they cheered enthusiastically.

Nari couldn’t help the grin that grew on her face as she looked to the Eossimarians, she walked down to a familiar face and placed a hand on the elf’s shoulder, and she turned around in surprise, smiling at Nari when she caught sight of her.

“Elanor, I’d like ye to lead the troop to Dale, if ye don’t mind,”

Her mouth fell open slightly, “Are you certain Nari?”

“Very, ye’re our best archer, and a good leader, take the archers and others to Dale,” she nodded, “I know they’ll be safe in yer hands,” she patted her on the arm lightly and smiled, and Elanor returned the gesture, Nari looked around, “I want the archers to follow Elanor, and I’ll need a few who can fight on the ground to go with her as well,” she instructed.

After a few moments of indecision they split into two groups, with Elanor waving her half on to head towards Dale, she gave a final nod to Nari before they vanished into the trees.

“What about the rest of us?”

“We are going to defend Erebor,” Nari moved to brush some low-hanging branches out of the way, “Callon, lead on,” they followed immediately after him as he moved hurriedly, and Nari made sure the last people were through before she ran around to catch up with her brother.

She turned to face the guard while walking backward continuously, “I want ye to be on high alert, look out for each other, ye all have families that want yer safe return. Are we understood?”

“Aye!” they chanted and marched forward steadily upon catching the Mountain in their line of sight.

There was clanking and stomping resonating suddenly on the hills to the left as a new army made an approach to the scene, Dwalin noticed Bofur’s puzzlement and he leaned over, speaking quietly, “Dáin, of the Iron Hills, Thorin’s cousin,” the dwarf nodded in understanding and stared at the army, his cousin Bifur roared triumphantly just behind him with a few other members.

The Elves immediately turned their stance away from Erebor, and marched right on to meet the Dwarven army, before bringing themselves to a standstill as the Dwarves also made their stop behind their leader.

“Good morning, how are we all?” A fiery red headed dwarf, Dáin, Bofur assumed addressed the masses rather sarcastically. “I have a wee proposition, if ye wouldn’t mind giving me a few moments of yer time.” He leaned forward on his war pig, “Would ye consider, just… sodding off?!” he yelled the last words out, unsettling the Men so much that they stepped back in fear.

“All of ye! Right now!” he barked.

“Stand fast!” Bard ordered his men.

“Come now, Lord Dáin,” Gandalf approached the Dwarves through the crowds.

“Gandalf the Grey,” Dáin greeted coldly, “Tell this rabble to leave, or I’ll water the ground with their blood!”

“There is no need for war between Dwarves, Men and Elves,” Gandalf insisted as he moved closer, in hopes of reasoning with the dwarf, “A legion of Orcs march on the Mountain. Stand your army down.”

“I will not stand down before any Elf, not least this faithless Woodland sprite,” he glared as he pointed to the King Thranduil with his large hammer, “He wishes nothing but ill upon my people, if he chooses to stand between me and my kin… I’ll split his pretty head open! See if he’s still smirking then!”

Bofur looked over and confirmed that Thranduil was indeed smirking at the dwarf Lord, the other members cheered on their kin defending them, and Bofur looked to his brother and saw that he too looked uneasy about it all.

“He’s clearly mad, like his cousin,” the elf king responded coolly.

“Ye hear that, lads? We’re on!” Dáin turned around on his pig to face his army, waving his hammer as he moved along, “Let’s give these bastards a good hammering!” His commander gave orders in Khuzdul and the army yelled out their response, raising their weapons to prepare themselves.

A rumbling echoed from underground near another mountain range, the cracking of breaking earth sounded thunderous as the ground burst open, enormous Earth-eaters roared as they crushed the chunks of land in their mouths.

“Oh, come on!” Dáin yelled.

Bofur couldn’t believe his eyes as the worms receded into the ground from whence they came, a horn drew his attention away as his eyes fell upon Azog on top of an abandoned watch tower; his arms were raised as he yelled out his commands and his armies marched forward.

“The hordes of Hell are upon us. To battle! To battle, sons of Durin!” Dáin yelled as he led his army forward to the swells of orcs.

“I’m going over the wall, who’s coming with me?” Fíli asked as he raised his sword in the air.

“Aye!”

“Yes!”

“Come on, let’s go!” Dwalin yelled eagerly.

“Stand down.” Thorin ordered.

“What? Are we to do nothing?” Fíli questioned his Uncle.

“I said, stand down!” he yelled at his nephew, and then he moved down the stairs without looking back at them, Fíli looked over to Balin whose gaze grew anxious as he looked at the dwarves charging forward. “I want all of you inside, now!”

They moved slowly down from the rampart, Bofur decidedly taking his time as best as he could, he stopped when he realised that the Elves had not moved from their position and watched Gandalf move to the Elf King.

“Thranduil, this is madness!” he insisted, as the Dwarves formed a barricade with their shields while the orcs stormed forward without fear.

Their commander announced that their duties were to Erebor and the King, and that they were to hold their positions, the soldiers reaffirmed their pledges with a cry. Bofur swore that he had barely blinked when he realised that the Elven army had used the Dwarves as a ramp to glide over them weightlessly, and even before they landed on the ground had begun slaying some of the orc army down.

The dwarves stood up soon after and the two races fought side by side against the orcs, the figures all swarmed together into one chaotic mess, had it not been for the golden coloured armour it would have been impossible to set the Elves apart from the Dwarves.

“Bofur,” a rough voice called and he cleared his head with a shake, rushing down the stairs quickly, he came to a standstill as he came face to face with Thorin; the King glared daggers at him. “You think I have not seen how distracted you’ve become? Your little friend Nari has left long ago, I would not expect her to be returning any time soon,” he growled.

“It would be best for you not to pursue whatever interests you think you have with her, if you wish to stay in these grounds, am I being clear?”

“A-Aye, Thorin, very,” he swallowed nervously, walking carefully around him to join the others as they gathered further away.

“What was that about?” Bombur asked, Bofur shook his head and avoided looking at him.

“It’s nothing; don’t worry yerself about it,”

Nari and the guard arrived in time to see the Elves and Dwarves merge together in battle, much to her surprise, and she faced her people as she raised her sword in the air. “[For Erebor!]”

“Erebor!” they yelled, and sprinted forward to the battle, they easily blended in amongst the chaos and began aiding in the killing of the orcs with the rest.

Nari and Callon fought side by side, watching each other’s backs and killing off orcs easily as a team, it seemed to be going well so far and yet, something was nagging her in the back of her mind.

Another section of Thranduil’s army moved into position and fired arrows at the orcs to the back on their King’s command; she briefly lost her focus when a horn sounded in the distance; she traced the noise to its origin and spotted Azog standing high above the battle almost cockily. A flag pole changed its signal, and the orc leader belted out his orders, the cries of another army sounded not too far away and they marched in the direction of Dale.

Her brother slayed an orc that had been approaching her from behind and moved to her line of vision, “Good thing ye sent half the guard to Dale,” he remarked and she nodded as she saw the people of Lake-Town back away from the battle slowly.

She hadn’t even realised that they were fighting between all the soldiers, “All of you, fall back to Dale. Now!” Bard ordered and she smiled to herself, knowing he was making good decisions for his people already; she killed a few more orcs and looked over her shoulder every so often to see what was happening near the ruined city.

Giant trolls with catapults strapped to their backsides raced towards Dale, stopping not too far off and launched boulders that crumbled the walls beneath them, and an even larger one with a stone tied down to his head ran straight into a solid wall and fell dead into the ground. The orcs charged into the city as the citizens screamed in terror, and Nari silently thanked Mahal that she had made the right decision by sending some of her people there.

“Ye buggers!” a dwarf cursed behind them as he leaped off of his war pig which had been stabbed, “I’ll show ye!” he used his head to knock down several orcs with ease, attacking with even more fury than he had before, “Where’s Thorin? We need him, where is he?”

She looked at her brother, “Seems the King has become cowardly in the face of war,”

“What do ye mean?” Callon asked as he took down another orc next to him.

“I think they’re all still pent up inside Erebor, I have yet to see any of the company out here,” she kicked down an orc that tried to approach and stabbed it in the back of its head.

“That’s a relief, they’ve not been found then,” he quickly sliced the throat of an orc that snuck up behind him.

“They’ll be trapped if they find a way in though,” Nari informed him.

“Should we go in then?”

“Aye,” she moved forward through the mess and took down a few more orcs as she went along, her brother following closely behind.

Dwalin approached Thorin angrily while he was brooding on his throne. “Since when do we forsake our own people? Thorin, they are dying out there.” But Thorin seemed distracted as his eyes wandered around the room.

“There are halls beneath halls within this Mountain. Places we can fortify… shore up make safe. Yes,” he stood from his throne and reached out to Dwalin as he walked forward a little unsteadily. “Yes, that is it. We must move the gold further underground to safety.”

He turned away to look down to where the gold was down below in the caverns, and Dwalin found that his eyes were tearing up as his anger only grew, he grabbed Thorin by the shoulder.

“Did ye not hear me? Dáin is surrounded. They’re being slaughtered, Thorin.” He stepped back as Thorin searched his face, as if almost looking at a stranger.

“Many die in war, life is cheap. But a treasure such as this, cannot be counted in lives lost,” he waved his friends' concerns away, “It is worth all the blood we can spend.”

Dwalin scoffed, “Ye sit here in these vast halls with a crown upon yer head, and yet ye are lesser now than ye have ever been.”

“Do not speak to me as if I were some lowly Dwarf Lord, as if,” his voice quivered as he spoke, “I were still, Thorin Oakenshield,” his voice cracked as he turned away and he bent over to the side, Dwalin remained at a distance and stepped back when Thorin swung out his sword haphazardly and missed his target. “I am your King!”

“Ye were always my King, ye used to know that once. Ye cannot see what ye have become. Nari was right, ye’re sick Thorin.”

“Go. Get out. Before I kill you.” His voice remained steady as he spoke this time; they locked eyes for a moment before Dwalin walked away in disappointment.

He reached the others and they looked up in hope but Dwalin’s face made it clear to them, “I fear that we’ve lost him for good, he threatened my life.”

“That is not the sign we needed,” Balin shook his head.

“Can’t we do something, anything, to make him see?” Fíli stood.

“No laddie, I’m afraid not,” Balin placed his hand on the young dwarf’s shoulder.

The group sat in silence, staring at the ground as the screams from the battle ensued; Bofur remained on the rampart as he tried to scan the scene to ease the twisting in his gut. He was soon joined by Dwalin and Balin who stood on either side of him, they all nodded at one another.

Kíli pricked his head as he noticed movement ahead of them, he recognised his Uncle’s form and stood up from his spot, the fury boiling in his blood encouraged him to approach Thorin fearlessly.

“I will not hide behind a wall of stone while others fight our battles for us!” he yelled, though Thorin moved forward wordlessly. “It is not in my blood, Thorin.”

“No. It is not,” Thorin agreed, stopping before his nephew, “We are sons of Durin, and Durin’s Folk do not flee from a fight.” He smiled slowly as he met Kíli’s gaze, his lip was twitching beyond his control.

They pressed their foreheads together before Thorin patted him on the shoulder and moved to stand in front of the others, and his nephew raised his fist in success behind his back.

“I have no right to ask this of any of you. But will you follow me, one last time?” he asked them, and they all smiled and raised their weapons wordlessly.

The Eossimarian guard fell in between Dain and his troops, for the Elves had left for Dale, and they now realised that they were severely outnumbered. Dain’s dwarves began chanting in unison and the guard joined in while the orc army began to line up in front of them, even larger orcs made their way to the frontlines with clubs in hand, unmistakably weaponised to clear buildings.

Just as Azog gave the order a trumpet sounded clearly above them, Nari glanced up and saw Bombur blowing into the instrument and felt a laugh bubble up inside with a mix of relief, a bell rang out and she frowned before the enormous object burst through the barricade and collapsed it.

The company emerged from wreckage crying out as they ran directly towards the orcs, and Dain’s army moved aside to let them pass through.

“To the King, to the King!” the dwarf they had seen earlier cried out, rallying his troops forward.

Nari and Callon looked at each other and smiled, before joining in the attack against the orcs and really giving their all as they swung their blades. She managed to get close enough to Thorin in time before they were surrounded.

“Thorin, it’s good to see ye!” she called out and he killed off an orc before turning around to speak with her.

“You came back, after everything I said to you?”

“Course I did, I was keeping my word,”

“Thank you.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, and the two of them bowed their heads briefly before returning to the fight. “Dáin!” Thorin yelled out.

“Thorin! Hold on, I’m coming!” He rode on the backside of an orc while killing others, they hugged for a moment and he frowned for a moment when his eyes landed on Nari, but he decided it wasn’t the time to question it. “Hey Cousin, what took ye so long?”

“Admittedly I was under duress,”

“No matter, there’s too many of these buggers, Thorin,” he gestured around them, “I hope ye’ve got a plan…”

Nari and Callon had drifted further down into the fight, working alongside members of the company as they struggled against what seemed to be an endless wave of the creatures.

“Aye, we’re going to take out their leader.” He stared up to where Azog stood proudly on the old tower.

“Azog?” Dáin’s jaw slackened as he stared wide-eyed at his cousin, who managed to get hold of a war ram and sat confidently.

“I’m going to kill that piece of filth,” he promised, and then rode towards the rocky hillside, taking off the heads of orcs along the path with him.

As if Dwalin, Fíli and Kíli had read their King’s mind, they followed him on their own rams. “Lead on!” Dwalin said as they raced on with speed.

“Callon, let’s go!” Nari called.

“Where?”

“That peak,” she pointed to where Azog stood, “Azog must have planned for every move we’ve made here so far, and I don’t like that they’ll be isolated up there.”

He agreed and they ran on, quickly passing behind Bofur and his brother, Nari took out an orc that had tried to attack Bofur from behind, and the dwarf turned just in time to see her vanish before he could thank or even question her. He grunted as he swung another deadly blow to an enemy.

They ran up the rocky hills as fast as they could on foot, Thorin and the others were already at the top for some time before them and she worried that they may be in danger.

“I’ll bet my life that he’s set something up there.”

“Ye’re probably right, but on a day like this, I would not be wagering my life about as if it were nothing sister,”

“Don’t fret brother, we both know I can take care of myself,” they reached the top and were assaulted by hordes of goblins, and had to fight their way through.

“We must hurry!”

“These goblins won’t kill themselves ye know!” she grunted as she killed off a few more of the creatures.

“Something is wrong, I feel it,” he helped to kill off more of them, and then grabbed her hand and pulled her along after him.

They reached a broken down tower that curved slightly over the frozen river, giving them quicker access across the way if they needed it, Callon climbed further up to get a better view as the area was covered.

“Damn this fog, I can’t see much of anything,”

“Do ye hear that?” she raised a hand to silence him, “Below somewhere… I think reinforcements are coming,”

Callon nodded, reaching behind his back and readying his bow and arrow, slowly raising it to the buildings across the way, “I see the others, but not the princes, and… Bilbo?”

“Bilbo?” She looked passed him curiously, and realised that they were staring across the frozen river to where Azog had stood not long ago.

There was a sudden thumping of drums and the fog dissipated to reveal Azog dragging Fíli by the scruff alongside himself, his feet dangling in the air as the orc leader was much larger than him; Callon stiffened as he raised the prince higher up.

“This one dies first, then the brother.” Azog smirked.

The others stepped forward to the rocky edges nervously as Fíli stared back at them in absolute fear, Callon aimed his arrow at the orc’s weaponised arm, and Nari observed her brother.

“Ye should aim for his head,” she suggested, but Callon disagreed.

“I want him to face a slow death,”

“Then you, Oakenshield… You will die last.” Azog grinned, raising his arm to strike.

“Go!” Fíli yelled to them but Thorin shook his head, “Run!”

“On my life,” Callon whispered as he released his arrow, it whizzed through the air quickly and struck the orc leader in his arm as he had intended.

The orc dropped Fíli with the unexpected attack, and the poor dwarf hit the ground at an awkward angle, causing him to roll towards the edge of the cliff they were on. As he reached the edge his body fell upright, and he managed to reach out and grab hold of the edge to keep himself from plummeting to his death.

Azog backed away, “Finish them,” he ordered, then disappeared from sight, not realising that the dwarf was still clinging on for his life.

The others assessed the area and were surprised to see the siblings already sprinting across the frozen water to the other side, and Thorin called out for his nephews as Kíli roared in outrage, not knowing his brother was still alive as he ran out from his hiding space and made after them. Thorin made no hesitation in chasing after him.

“Thorin,” Dwalin reached out, “Thorin, no!” he ran after his King, leaving Bilbo behind.

Nari worked at fighting off the goblin armies that had now circled the area to let her brother get to Fíli, he bent down on his knee and held his hand out for him.

“Take my hand,” the prince gladly took hold of it and was lifted to his feet, for a moment they seemed to forget the surroundings as their eyes met.

“Cal, a little assistance if ye would be so kind-” she called out and he jerked his head in surprise, before quickly taking out a dagger and handing it to Fíli, who took it with a smile; and they both moved out into the fight to aid Nari.

EEEEEEEEH!

They ducked down for a moment, covering their ears as they looked to the sky which was now filled with hefty bats flying overhead. They passed over the river and swooped over Dwalin and Bilbo who were being swarmed by another goblin army.

She stood up, “I’m going to help them,” she told Callon as she moved away, he gave a quick nod and worked side by side with Fíli at killing the goblins that still tried to attack them. As she darted across the ice she noticed Kíli not too far off, slaying a few orcs on his own but she realised that he would soon be overwhelmed, as the number of orcs never seemed to be wavering no matter how many kills they all made.

Nari jumped in and slayed an orc just as a larger one travelled passed Bilbo, knocking him down with the handle of his weapon, she stabbed another orc in the chest and watched the leading orc disappear, wondering if that was the infamous Bolg of the North, spawn of Azog.

She knelt over the hobbit in concern, and her shoulders slumped as she saw the rise and fall of his chest, “Thank Mahal, brave Master Baggins,” she breathed out.

“Kíli!”

Nari stood on her feet and frowned, somewhat recognising the voice that called his name.

“Kíli!”

It called again and she squinted to where she had last seen the prince.

“Tauriel!” he cried out, making Nari bolt to where their voices came from, only to find Bolg was attacking Tauriel and it seemed she was not winning.

She had no time to try and help the elf-maid as she became surrounded by more enemies herself, leaving her no choice but to defend herself against their constant attacks.

“Ah!” Tauriel grunted as Bolg raised her into the air by the throat, she kicked him swiftly in the gut and he dropped her immediately, only to return the gesture and force her against the wall with a thud.

Kíli leapt out from Nari’s right with his sword raised high into the air, landing promptly on the orc’s shoulders and sinking his weapon down, just missing his head by a whisker as the orc raised his own to block the attack. He launched Kíli over his head and into the nearby stone stairs, with a grunt the prince was on his feet again, and he charged at the orc; both went at each other relentlessly evading and striking where they could.

Nari finished off the hordes on her side and soared down, just at the orc held Kíli in place to strike him in the chest, with her dagger already drawn she came down on his exposed backside and Bolg dropped Kíli as he staggered sideways and distracting him from his kill; she buried it deep into his shoulder and neck as she was also thrown off her target.

Tauriel screamed as she grabbed the orc’s arm, making him lose grip of his sword, Nari hopped off and stood on the ground as Tauriel then rushed over to Kíli. Bolg reached down for his sword and faced Nari with a grunt; her breathing was heavy as she addressed the orc.

“I will see yer head mounted as a trophy before ye lay another hand on him,” the orc grinned, raising his sword and charging at her, she ducked as he narrowly missed her head. “Kíli, Tauriel, go!” she insisted, drawing her sword and facing the orc as the elf-maid struggled to help Kíli to his feet.

She managed to stab him in the leg and avoided another attack, moving further away from the two, “Are ye deaf?” she asked as she saw them watching her, “Run!” They seemed startled by her words and moved along as quickly as they could; it seemed that he had been disorientated from his fight against Bolg.

In her moment of distraction she had barely faced the orc when her head struck against something hard, causing her to gasp out and close her eyes for a second, when she opened them she froze in place, and Bolg’s sword impaled her torso firmly. She choked as she glanced down, the sword holding her in place against the stone; she looked over to the stairs and knew they were headed to safety.

Nari’s ears were ringing with the deafening scream that escaped her as the orc leaned over her and pressed the blade further in, but she fought against every nerve in her body telling her to give in, instead focusing on the heat that she felt coursing through her. Something in the back of her mind told her to grab Bolg by the wrists and she clasped them firmly, holding her gaze as he leaned back in surprise; the heat centred to her palms and a horrible odour wafted to her nose.

Bolg jerked back roaring in agony, taking his weapon with him and stepping backwards, and Nari gasped as she collapsed onto the ground, she closed her eyes for a moment as she pressed her burning hands into the bleeding wound, tears falling out her eyes as the skin seemed to bubble and scorch under the pressure. She opened her eyes glancing above her, and saw Kíli peering over the edge and then a hand swiftly pulling him away; she struggled to turn her attention back to Bolg.

Her vision started growing dark, but there was one last relief as she saw her brother approaching the orc, her breathing was shaky as Fíli leaned over her, and she watched as his mouth moved but she could not hear what he was saying.

His hands touched her shoulders to get her attention back on him as her head rolled back and her eyes seemed to glaze over steadily, he moved the lower edge of her tunic to examine her wound and frowned deeply as he saw the damage done by a sword, but also burned flesh that seemed to seal it somehow. Despite this, there was still a lot of blood slowly pooling underneath her, and he discovered the smaller opening on her backside.

“Nari, can you hear me?” he asked in concern, she met his eyes with a blank stare as her head rolled heavily.

She whispered hoarsely, “Keep my Callon safe for me,”

“Don’t you talk like that, you’ll be alright,” Fíli insisted, taking her hand and squeezing it hard, at least she assumed as she couldn’t feel her fingers; there was a grunt not far off as Bolg fell to his knees, and Callon removed the dagger from the orc’s head with satisfaction. “He’s right here Nari, right here,”

Her brother kneeled down next to Fíli, “Sister- what happened?” his eyes widened as he looked her over, her breathing was becoming even slower and her eyes barely remained open.

“Thorin… Kíli,” she mumbled out before her eyes shut, and she fell into the darkness; Fíli pressed his ear to her chest and heard her heart beat sluggishly.

“Nari?” Callon’s voice broke as he spoke her name.

“She is still with us,” Fíli assured him and Callon let out a shaky breath as a tear fell across his cheek, “I’ll stay with her, go find them,” he insisted, Callon nodded and took one last uncertain look at his sister as he left them.

He did not venture too far when he found Tauriel sitting with Kíli on a rock, “Thank Mahal, ye’re alive Kíli!”

“Is she alright?” Kíli spoke heavily, as if he had a lump in his throat.

“For now,” he bowed his head slightly, ignoring the burning of his eyes, “Where is Thorin?” he asked.

“Azog.” Kíli whispered and shot to his feet, he walked passed Callon who then followed him; they stood on another wall above the others and saw Dwalin down below battling some orcs.

They moved hurriedly when they saw more heading his way until they stumbled upon Bilbo laying between rubble, Kíli leaned over the hobbit immediately and gave him a once over, he moved back when Bilbo’s eyes suddenly flicked open and he stared at the skies above.

“The Eagles… they’ve come,” he said almost dreamily; Callon and Kíli both glanced up and realised that he wasn’t imagining things, the prince then helped Bilbo to his feet.

Callon ran over to aid Dwalin in his burst of hope, Kíli joined them and Bilbo did his best at fighting at a distance by throwing rocks at the assailants as they approached them, Dwalin moved further up the frozen river to kill off the smaller troop, and with the Eagles now helping their side the numbers seemed to begin to dwindle and as they killed the last of their enemies they could finally rest for a moment.

Callon breathed deeply, still feeling uncertain that all was right, and his eyes landed on Thorin who stood facing Azog on the ice just across from them.

The King picked up the stone that had slammed in front of him seconds ago, quickly tossing it over to Azog who caught it in his grasp, Thorin stepped back carefully as he kept his eyes on the orc, the cracked ice underneath Azog’s feet tilted into the air. He dropped the stone next to him and it slid into the water, it dragged the chain still attached and pulled the pale orc down with it despite his screams, and he slipped underneath the ice.

Silence.

“He’s done it,” Callon muttered, “He’s done it!” he cheered as he looked at the others; they smiled in relief before laughing.

He frowned when Thorin walked slowly along the ice, looking down with a wary gaze at something below, and his blade still firmly held in his hand. Callon started as the King cried out suddenly, the tip of a blade piercing through his foot from underneath, it vanished and Azog erupted out with a roar.

They all froze as he swung his sword at Thorin, knocking him down onto his backside, he was barely able to deflect the pale orc’s tireless blows against him; he stabbed his sword down and Thorin was lucky enough to raise his sword across his chest in time to protect himself.

Callon reached behind himself to retrieve his bow and arrow, aiming it at the Orc leader’s head, Kíli swallowed nervously and glanced down to Bilbo, only to find the hobbit had disappeared entirely.

The unique fork in Azog’s weapon was now the only thing keeping him from death, he grunted as the orc forced his sword further down upon him; it was a breath away from his heart now.

Callon shot his arrow and cursed as it moved off course with the breeze, hitting the orc in the shoulder and distracting him from his task at hand for a moment, he snorted at them and pushed his sword further down. It pricked Thorin’s chest and the dwarf King yelled out, Azog smirked with satisfaction and made to push further, when out of thin air Bilbo leapt down onto his backside; he plunged his little sword deep into the neck of the orc, Azog staggered to the side, giving Bilbo the opportunity to hop off.

The sword remained in his neck as he collapsed onto the ice with a final grunt, and Thorin, having gotten to his feet in seconds, grabbed the hobbit by the shoulders, moving them both away in fear. Callon lowered his bow and nodded at Bilbo, though he seemed too shaken to respond in the moment.

Kíli heard Dwalin shouting incoherently about an orc as he approached them at speed, he frowned and tried to ask him to be clear when there was a loud thud next to him, he turned to see Callon laying on the icy ground unconscious, a small boulder planted next to him that had not been there earlier and he quickly grabbed the bow and an arrow from the dwarf.

He scanned the area just behind them and spotted his target, one orc that was preparing to throw another stone, he swiftly shot him dead and kept his eyes peeled for any more signs of movement; he threw down the weapon and kneeled down to examine the injury to Callon’s head. He was bleeding a bit from the roughness of the stone, but seemed otherwise unharmed, Kíli moved his hand in front of Callon’s face and felt the warm breath against it.

He looked across the river and saw that Azog’s body lay still, his black blood seeping into the icy water, Thorin was leaning over him and then he walked away, Bilbo took to his side; he put an arm over the hobbit’s shoulder and held him tightly, Bilbo chuckled a little nervously until he saw the others.

They approached worriedly and Kíli spoke to his uncle, “He’s still breathing, only just, I think,”

Dwalin was panting loudly as he finally reached them, his exhaustion was evident as he approached tiredly, and his eyes welled up as he inspected Callon.

“Is he-?”

“What’s happened here?” Fíli’s voice spoke softer than usual and they diverted their attention to him, he carried Nari in his arms and she hung limply, still unconscious.

“He’s alive,” Kíli assured him.

“Mahal,” Dwalin whispered when his eyes fell onto Nari and darted back to Callon.

“She’s worse for wear I admit, but she’s fighting,” Fíli promised him.

“We must get them to the healers, quickly,” Thorin ordered, the princes agreed and Kíli moved to lift Callon from the ground but Dwalin raised a hand to stop him, picking his nephew up into his arms instead.

Once they were ready they moved down along the old paths as fast as they could, at some point along the way Kíli had taken Nari from his brother as his arms grew tired, and they continued without much fuss. Tauriel fell in step behind them, not wanting to invade in what felt like a very personal matter to the dwarves. A sense of guilt overwhelmed her as she registered that Nari had saved Kíli, and she swallowed the lump in her throat down at the concept of a life without him.

Thorin was the first to break the long silence they had fallen into, “Azog is finally dead, had it not been for these two… it could’ve been all of us,” his nephews only looked at him, “I was foolish for sending you there alone, it was clearly a trap, I hope you can forgive me, my nephews,”

“Of course Uncle,” they said together.

“You couldn’t have known Thorin, you know that.” Bilbo placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Aye,” Dwalin agreed, “We were ambushed and outnumbered by the bastards,” he gritted his teeth angrily.

To their relief the battle seemed to have ended, the Eagles flew away as the sun started to dip into the horizon, and they arrived at a gathering of those who had survived. Dwarves from the Iron Hills and the company, among the guards of Eossimar, were all mixed together; some were already tending to the injuries of their comrades, while others sat in silence as they mourned their losses.

From the left they saw more of the guard come out from the direction of Dale, with a large man walking somewhat alongside them, when Thorin met his gaze he bowed his head as a gesture of thanks, and Beorn returned it.

Bofur had just finished covering his brother’s leg wound when he looked around and saw Thorin and the others making their return, at first he was relieved as he stood up and made his way to them, but his smile faded as he saw how sombre they were. His eyes hovered over them and his heart pounded heavily in his chest as he saw Nari being carried in Kíli’s arms, he felt the air in his chest leave and he couldn’t breathe as they stilled in front of them.

Thorin waved Óin over to them and he examined them immediately, Bofur’s knees felt as though they were about to crumple under the sudden weight he felt as watched the healer look them over, a hand clapping down on his shoulder startled him and he turned to see Bombur trying to comfort him.

____________________________________________________________

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insidetheacademy · 4 years

Text

Say You Love Me || v

pairings: peter parker x reader (both are 18+!)

summary: y/n settles down in paris and met a new friend! also peter has a surprise

warnings: wet dREAAAMS

gif credits: tomholandd

part i part ii part iii part iv part v

the flight to Paris was okay except for a baby that was crying super loud. jeez, babies shouldnt be allow to travel you thought to yourself. after you had arrived, you went straight to this beautiful cottage that was apparently the company’s property. you said goodbye and thank you to the taxi driver and took a good look at the house infront of you. this is it, you’re gonna have to spend your time in this house for God knows how long.

you dragged your suitcase in and set it aside. you explored the interior of the house before going to the backyard. it was beautiful. there was a visible river and someone who used to lived here definitely took a good care of it since theres flowers and everything that you had seen in a fairytale. you werent gonna lie, you do feel like you’re a pauper. you took out your phone and captured the photo to upload to your Instagram. you captioned it “la vie en rose”, cliché but you had planned about taking photos and making your captions in french since you got on the airplane.

you head inside to take out all of your paintings essential. you felt inspired just by looking at the view there. you took one of the chair from the garden and sit down and started painting on your easel. you startled when you felt someone tapped your shoulder, you turned around and saw a tall pale man. he looks like he’s from around here.

“hey! y/n right?” he asked smiling wide, you took out your earphone “yeah? and who are you?” you asked confusingly, “Jules? we’re supposed to be working together?” he said trying to refresh your brain but you were still confused. “did they not tell you about me?” Jules asked, you shook your head and said a small sorry. you must have slipped over the email when they said that. you feel so stupid right now,

Jules explained everything and apparently he’s your new roommate. he was supposed to help you do a big painting for Claude Monet. you invited him inside to make a cup of tea for the both of you. “so, where are you from, Jules?” you cusped your teacup, “I live 30 minutes away from here. they wanted me to be here all the time to complete the painting as fast as possible and I couldnt say no,” Jules said.

after an hour and a half of talking with Jules, you really feel right at home with him. you two just met but you really feel a connection between him. you also found out that during his free time, he’s a guitarist and does gigs here and there to make extra pocket money. he said he’s in a band thats called “The Rejects Club” you laughed hard when he told you that because it sounded so high school-ish. but in his defence, he did say that the band formed when they were still in high school.

it was close to dinnertime, you didnt want to eat as you already eat a croissant that you quickly grabbed from the airport but Jules insisted to make cook for the both of you, you couldnt say no when his voice sounded so velvety and is like a warm cup of coffee with marshmallows on top. you were sitting on the couch with the both of your legs on top of the coffee table scrolling through instagram when Peter replied to your story, “how’s Paris so far?” he asked, “it was tiring but tomorrow’s gonna be more tiring,” you said.

whatever Jules was cooking definitely made your stomach growl with anticipation. you werent hungry but whatever he was making definitely made you hungry. you stood up from the couch to look at what Jules was cooking and it was pasta. to be accurate; an aglio olio. it smelled so delicious. you wanted to help so you took out the plates from the cupboard and set it down on the table.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

“you know I love you right?” Peter said his lips nearing yours, you looked into his eyes and nodded. the kissed turned into a passionate and fiery kiss. he had your body against the wall, he was cusping your jaw with his left hand and the other underneath your shirt, you let out a moan and he squeezed tits.

“jump,” he said through the kiss and you obeyed not wanting to destroy the moment that you were having, he sets you down on the silk bed and continues to take of your clothes, he kissed from your collarbones to the place that you needed him the most, “y/n!” someone said, but you were so lost you thought it was Peter that was calling you but the familiar new voice kept coming closer and closer as you woke up.

you woke up with sweat forming on your forehead and your alarm ringing so goddamn loud, “jesus, are you okay?” Jules asked, “what time is it?” you looked around frantically trying to look for the clock, “its 10:30am! we were supposed to leave the house 15 minutes ago, y/n!” your eyes went wide and picked a floral strap dress and a cream coloured turtleneck. you went to the shower without having second thoughts.

you put your clothes on and quickly grabbed your shoes along with a pair of socks and your handbag. you locked the door and ran to Jules’ car. you were breathing heavily as you strapped your seatbelt on. “I can’t believe we’re late!” you said flabbergastedly, “yeah, I know! what time did you even go to bed?” Jules was clearly annoyed. seems like he’s the type of person to arrive right on time.

“I slept right after we had dinner! I don’t know why I couldn’t hear the alarm. God, I feel so stupid” You put your socks on and your shoes. You took out your lipstick and put them on. “Who is Peter, anyway?” Jules asked absentmindedly, you looked at him trying to find out how he knew that name and in hopes that he’s just fucking around but he’s not.

you closed your compact mirror, “he’s a friend of mine,” “a friend, huh?” Jules scoffed, “I didn’t know a friend moans another friend name in their sleep,” your face flushed with red as he said those words. “what the hell, Jules?! I could’ve went days without knowing that you heard me having wet dreams about my friend!” you cover your face in shame. you couldnt believe that he had hear you moaning Peter’s name

“Oh my gosh, I feel like I could just bury myself right here,” you said, “Relax, I’m not going to tell anyone,” Jules said taking your hands into his, giving you a warm smile.

you two had arrived at this building that was filled with paintings but not by those famous painters just paintings by painters that were starting out. “Ah darlings!” you heard a middle aged woman walking towards you with both of her hands wide open, obviously ready to hug the both of us to death.

“you must be Ms y/n!” she cupped your face and kissed your cheeks, what a weird way to greet somebody but thats how it is, “and you must be Jules!” she took a step back and took a good look of you and Jules’ faces. she introduced herself as Mrs. Autry. she walked the both of you around the office and explained about how everything works.

“I am so excited for the two of you to work with us,” she smiles warmly, “let me know if you need anything sweethearts!” she bid her goodbye and went to another direction. you and Jules walked to the nearest café and sat down there. you ordered a frappacino whilst Jules ordered a latte.

every now and then you somehow were reminded of how you dreamed of Peter. not only dreamed of him but in such an inappropriate way. you don’t like him anymore, you just don’t know why he’s haunting you this badly. should you stop being friends with him? it feels so awkward now that you dreamed of him banging you. “so what should we do?” Jules voice brought you back down to earth, you stuttered trying to come up with something.

he could tell by the look in your eyes that theres something wrong, “you know you can tell me anything right, y/n?” Jules said, he’s definitely good in reading someone’s body language. “i wont judge, y/n,” he reassures you, you took a deep breath and let everything out.

everytime you talked he would listen, he’s there for you, always looking into your eyes to keep the conversation going, you also mentioned about how Peter was a dick when he found out you were coming here, Jules said “what a dick, do you want me to punch him if he ever comes here?” Jules offered you then laughed at his attempt trying to make you feel better.

you both went home and went straight to each other’s room because you were so tired. you didnt realised how much walking there was gonna be today. you took out your phone and saw MJ messaged you, “hey!!! I have great news! I’m coming to Paris next month!” you smiled to yourself, woah, did MJ missed you that much already?

you typed back “I know you miss me but you don’t have to, you know?” “Haha, very funny, y/l/n,” you chuckled and asked her “why are you coming here?” a three dots appeared and her response was “I just wanted to go there and experienced a real trip. not like when we get to go there and it was cancelled,” you still remember when the school trip cancelled going to Paris because apparently they got “upgraded” to go to Prague.

you smiled when you remembered thats how you found out Peter was Spider-man. “well, you’re going to love Paris,” you replied to MJ. you also gave her your current home address in Paris so she can visit you! she thought it was a lovely idea.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

“can’t you please to do this for me, MJ?” Peter begged MJ, basically down on his knees. “fine! but if everything went wrong do not blame me!” MJ gave in. Peter was planning to meet you in Paris but he wants it to be a surprise. something you’re going to remember till you’re dead.

Peter have missed you so much and he swore he could go crazy if he couldn’t see your face for another month. Peter was so excited that you gave a thumbs up and that you even gave MJ your address in Paris. he wonders to himself what could go wrong?

“there, I’ve done it, now can you please leave?” MJ crosses her arms, pissed that Peter hadwoken her up in the middle of the night because he couldnt keep it in his pants about his “love” for you. atleast thats what MJ teased him about. he never quite really admit it but MJ could see it and told him that he’s not fooling anybody with those goo goo eyes.

“thank you, MJ. i’ll find a way to repay you. i promise.” Peter said while crouching on her window, “you better, Parker, or you wont see the light of day ever again.” MJ threatens jokingly at Peter. he laughs and there he goes, he shot his webs to another building.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

a/n: hi sorry i know this is short and boring but i have so much on my plate right now but to make it up, I’ll try to post the next chapter tonight or tomorrow! again so SORRY its boring skdjsks but please do leave your thoughts!

say you love me taglist:

@imawkwardandhereweare @canyonmoonspidey @thebadassbitchqueen @thequeenreaders @averyfosterthoughts @a--1--1--3

#marvel cinematic universe #mcu #peter parker #peter parker angst #peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland #actors

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mistbornthefinal · 3 years

Text

Madoka Magica Aniversary Analysis: Part 4

Unknowing of the Price

(spoilers below the cut)

We open on Sayaka running to Kyousukes hotel room but he isn’t there. The nurses explain that his physical therapy time has been moved up. As Sayaka leaves the recap what we should have figured out in the previous episode. Kyousuke was a violin prodigy before a tragic injury, while he may recover enough to walk he will never be able to play music again. The also praise Sayaka’s dedication to her friend.

On the elevator down Sayaka laments the cruelty of circumstance. She openly considers the prospect of using her wish to heal Kyousuke. Sayaka then wonder that if she did would would she want from Kyousuke in return before berating herself over her ulterior motive. A voice from a future Sayaka laments that at the time she had not idea what it meant to pray for a miracle nor what a miracle ultimately costs. (Cue connect)

At the Breakfast table Madoka stares into an egg yolk and remembers Mami and then bursts into tears. For some reason Madoka parents let her go to school after she breaks down sobbing about still being alive at breakfast. She meets up with Sayaka who is also desperately trying to maintain a façade of normalcy on the way there.

On the schools #Aesthic roof Madoka try to process the whole “secret magical conflict in which one of our Senpai died before our eyes”. Madoka says that since that day the people around her seem like strangers. Sayaka puts that feeling into more concrete words.

“We’re the only ones who know about the witches and Mami-san. Nobody else does. It’s like we’re living in an entirely different world from them.”

Essential even if they never make contracts they still can not return to the world of innocence and ignorance they inhabited in episode 1. Part of their minds will inhabit the world of magical girls and witches regardless. Sayaka asks Madoka if she still intends to become a magical girl, her lack of answer is enough even before the tears.

Sayaka wonders to Kyubey what will become of Mitakihara with its’ protector gone. He replies that other magical girls will move in to the vacant territory. Sayaka laments that they are likely to be as she perceives Homura only caring for their own gain. Kyubey admits that Mami was a “rare breed” but in his opinion only other magical girls have the right to judge. He then bids them farewell (which is bullsquid he’s there immediately the second Sayaka falters)

After school Madoka is crying at Mami’s now abandoned apartment. She apologizes to Mami for being weak and she leaves behind her notebook of magical girl costumes from episode 2 as a sort of symbolic abandonment of her dreams of being a person like Mami.

Homura is waiting at the entrance of the apartment building. She seem to understand implicitly what Madoka is thinking saying that she is wrong to blame her self for Mami’s death. No one can fault Madoka’s decision not to become a magical girl, Homura won’t allow them to. Walking alongside Homrua, Madoka wonders that if she had been more attentive to her warning Mami might have been spared. Homura replies.

“That still wouldn’t have changed Tomoe Mami’s fate. But I was able to change yours. I’m glad to have save at least one life.”

(counting you chickens a little early Homura-chan) Madoka says that Homura seem like a veteran though not in the same way as Mami to which Homura is evasive. Madoka asks if Homura has seen people die before, Homura has stopped counting. Homura also explains that it will be a while until Mami is declared missing and as far as the world is concerned her fate will never be known. That is the ultimate fate of magical girls their bodies swallowed by the labyrinth with no one the wiser.

Madoka is distraught that after Mami spent so long protecting the city that not even the record of her death will remain. Homura says that it is simply the fare of magical girls who ultimately fight only for their wishes. This is simply the way it is. Madoka say no.

Even if no one else does she will remember Mami, and Homura as well. Homura’s pain is visible. (this is another one of those scenes that hurts when you come back to it after ep 10)

At Kyousuke’s hospital room Sayaka sits by his bedside while he listens to a CD. She tries to make small talk but the atmosphere is too heavy. Kyousuke is in a black mood asking her if she trying to torture him with all these CDs full of music that he can no longer play. Sayaka tries to console him but apparently the doctors have told him to give up, only a miracle could restore his hand.

Madoka see Hitomi on the way home and immediately notices the witches kiss on her neck. When Madoka tries to talk with her she’s clearly out of it. Madoka decides to go along with her to wherever she’s going as she doesn’t have Homura’s cell and isn’t willing to abandon Hitomi.

Their destination an abandoned warehouse and they are not alone. This witch is making a big play, a cult mass suicide by means of homemade poison gas. Madoka grabs the bucket of chemicals and throws them out the window, which prompts the witches thralls to go full zombie. Madoka locks herself in a storeroom but that’s not obstacle for the witch (H.N. Elly) herself who pulls Madoka into her labyrinth.

The artstyle shift takes hold not only of the background but also Madoka herself losing her outlines and being animated in a more fluid style.

Elly seems to have access to Madoka’s memories as images of Mami are displayed on the ubiquitous TV monitors. Pehaps effected by the witches presence Madoka starts to blame herself for Mami’s death again, seeing the current situation as her punishment for being a coward. The Fammiliars grab her body and stretch it in a really disturbing way. Before they can do too much damage a flash of blue cuts them down, and then slams into the Witch. Madoka flicker bad to the normal artstyle.

Sayaka is a magical girl, and she makes short work of Elly. We see her victims start to come to their senses. Sayaka tries to wave away Madoka’s concern, but it’s clear she still has doubts. Sayaka turns to confront Homura who has arrived late to the party. It’s clear already that the two of them aren’t going to get along any better than Homura and Mami.

Back at the hospital Kyousuke awakens to stare disbelievingly at his hand, as if there was any doubt what Sayaka wished for. Elsewhere Kyoko complains through a mouth full of food as Kyubey tells her that there’s a new magical girl in Mitakihara. No matter says, Kyoko. It’s nothing a little violence cant fix.

So that’s Episode 4

The last one sort of left us in the lurch and so a lot of this episode just trying to grapple with what happened. The Mentor who help introduce Madoka and Sayaka into this world of magic and darkness is gone, and with her death has recontextualized their relationship with that world and denied them an easy exit. Both Madoka and Sayaka clearly feel an obligation to take up the torch, but at the same time how could they when the cost has been hammered home so brutally.

Sayaka decides that she going to try to live up to the image that Mami projected, an image that unlike Madoka she never got the opportunity to see beneath. So by the end of the Episode she seamlessly inherits Mami’s antagonism with Homura, and is already hiding her fears from Madoka. I don’t think anyone who was paying attention thought this is going to go well, even if the somehow missed the whole unrequited romance.

Madoka on the other hand is undecided. The more she learns about this whole magical girl thing the less she likes of it. Already she’s lost her initial dream of heroism represented by the notebook she abandoned at Mami’s apartment. That said she also made her first rejection of Kyubey’s system if a minor and symbolic one. If it’s Mami’s fate to be forgotten Madoka say’s she will remember her forever. Indeed come Episode 12 she will find a way to remember every magical girl who fought and died alone.

#semi-original content #puella magi madoka magica #madoka magica anniversary analysis

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theshatteredrose · 3 years

Text

Relic Keepers: Awakening of the Red Lily (Chapter 24) - Original Fiction

AN: Another somewhat long chapter, but I hope its intriguing nevertheless. So, enjoy~

Also minor warning; I use italics a lot in this chapter to signify a guided meditation.

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FictionPress

~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 24:

Eishirou sat next to Zayne and across from Misaki at the cafeteria table. With them sat Lyvia and Rinka. Surprisingly, Leon and Ernesta had chosen to join them for lunch. Tatsu, however, declined. He didn’t say as much, he just shook his head and walked off in the opposite direction.

Leon took a seat next to Zayne while Ernesta chose to sit with the two girls on the opposite side of the table. She seemed honestly amused by Lyvia’s attempt to pull Rinka into a conversation. She, however, spoke so much that she didn’t really give Rinka a chance to speak. Though, it seemed to have been done on purpose as Rinka was content to listen rather than speak.

Ernesta had to leave shortly after in order to speak with Sigmund about something. Likely what occurred during that battle match earlier.

Eishirou had noticed a few puzzled looks from the other occupants of the catering hall. But he was beginning to learn to ignore the stares. They weren’t doing any harm. They were just sitting and eating together. That shouldn’t be a cause of concern or confusion.

“Eishirou, do you have your tablet?” Lyvia suddenly asked.

“Yeah?”

“Can you check to see if Little Kitten Café is open yet?” she requested.

Eishirou pulled out his tablet from his bag and tapped at the screen to pull up the local news, promptly finding the subject requested. “Ah, there’s going to be a Grand Opening tomorrow.”

“Yes!” Lyvia cheered. “Can’t wait. It’s going to have kittens available to pet. I love kittens so much. Do you like kittens?” she directed that last question toward the Elite next to her.

Rinka nodded her head. “I like rabbits more, though,” she shyly revealed.

“Oh, wouldn’t a bunny café be adorable?” Lyvia began to prattle.

As Eishirou set his tablet down onto the table, Leon unexpectedly motioned a hand toward it. “What kind of information can you reach through that?”

The question was unexpected. “Pretty much everything, though it depends on connection. Here in the academy, however, I have access to whatever information I require; I just need to know what it is that I want to know about,” Eishirou answered.

“Huh,” Leon appeared mildly impressed. “So, you can find out how Mikiel is doing?”

“Let’s see.” Eishirou returned his attention to his tablet, quickly tapping at the screen. “I can’t fully access his medical records. It’s kinda unethical, anyway. But I can get information on his status.”

As a medic he had authority to enter the medical archives, though he couldn’t pull up an entire medical record. That could only be reached through the security of Communications. He found Mikiel through his patient number and looked up the latest medical notes. They alone should be able to tell him the status that Mikiel was currently in.

“Hmm. He’s still unconscious, unfortunately,” Eishirou answered as he scanned through the notes. “But he’s stable. His brain activity has been steady increasing. Though minor, it’s still an improvement.”

A subtle frown tugged at Leon’s lips. “I see.”

Eishirou cleared his tablet and switched it off. “I’ll be sure to let you know if anything else happens.”

“Yeah, ok,” Leon said simply in response.

“I don’t suppose you guys know anything about those missing Elites?” Eishirou asked as he folded his arms atop of the table and leaned forward.

“Nah, not a thing,” Leon replied, sounding subtly frustrated. “They don’t tell us anything.”

“Veteran Elites are involved, so that might be a reason,” Misaki added.

Leon perked up, confusion on his face. “Veterans? How long have they been involved?”

“Three days now.”

“Huh.” Leon appeared genuinely surprised as he turned toward Zayne. “That’s probably the reason why Sigmund has been pushing us so hard.”

Zayne nodded his head, a light frown on his lips, also. “Yeah, probably. Losing two teams is bit of a big deal.”

It was highly likely that the veterans, and perhaps the administrators of the academy, were keeping quiet about the whole situation. While Eishirou and his fellow Chroniclers were able to access a lot of recorded information, there was still a small section that was off-limits to students like him.

A buzzing of his communicator pulled Eishirou from his thoughts. He reached into his bag and it out. He flicked it on and noted the name on the screen. A pout soon made its way to his lips.

“I’m not talking to you,” he said as he answered the call.

Jacob laughed at the response. “Oh, come now, I was just teasing. Besides, I have good news; Professor Jairus wishes to see you this afternoon.”

Eishirou sat up straight. “What, really?”

“Yes, really,” Jacob returned. “He wants to see you in his office after lunch. Block M, room 105. I’ll meet you there, so be sure to get there on time.”

“Right, I’ll see you soon,” Eishirou replied before he bid goodbye and ended the call.

He wasn’t expecting to visit Professor Jairus so soon. He was a mixture of nervousness and excitement. He hoped that he would be able to help him to pull a recording or two from the Red Lily.

“Professor Jairus?” Zayne asked him.

Eishirou set his communicator atop of his tablet. “He’s specialises in meditation and mana manifestation. Jacob seems to think it’ll be useful in the study of the relic.”

“How is that going?”

“Slow,” Eishirou sighed and reached down to pick up his bag to place it on his lap. “I can’t get a recording from the relic. That’s why Jacob recommended I speak with Professor Jairus.”

Especially since he wouldn’t be heading back to Flutterlight Forest for a while.

“How long will it be?”

“Dunno.”

Zayne lifted his arms over his head and stretched. “Ah, that means I’ll need to figure out what I’m going to do for the rest of the day.”

As Eishirou slipped his tablet and communicator into his back he remembered a previous conversation he had with Zayne. Elites didn’t have hobbies or interests outside of fighting and battling. What did Elites do in their free time if they didn’t have to fight?

“You can come with me, if you want?” he suggested.

“Sure,” Zayne replied immediately, indicating that he was thankful for the suggestion. He placed his hands on the table and pushed himself to his feet. Him doing so prompted the others at their table to take the incentive to move along, too.

“Hey, Rinka, want to go shopping with me?” Lyvia suddenly requested as she sent the other young woman a smile.

Rinka turned to look at him in open surprise. “H-huh? Really?”

“Sure, it should be fun!”

Rinka was unsure on how to respond at first. She meekly turned to Zayne to seek guidance from him.

Zayne nodded. “Go ahead.”

A light flush made its way to Rinka’s cheeks as she turned back to Lyvia. “Kay,” she replied simply.

“Great!” Lyvia cheerfully took Rinka’s by the wrist and began to pull her along with her, prattling mindlessly as they moved out of sight and hearing.

Seeing the two leave prompted Eishirou to glance over at Misaki and then Leon, noting the two looked as though they were feeling left out. They were essentially pairing off, after all.

“Hey, Leon; why not visit Mikiel at the infirmary?” Eishirou suggested as he draped the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “Maybe someone familiar will offer him some comfort?”

Leon awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “Ah, I don’t know.”

“I can show you the way,” Misaki offered.

“No, I meant-” Leon started but paused when Zayne kicked the back of his leg lightly. He glanced over at his teammate, his brow furrowed. Zayne, however, simply shrugged. “Ah, all right,” he finally relented.

“Catch you guys later,” Zayne said simply as he moved to leave, prompting Eishirou to walk with him.

Witnessing the short and silent exchange between Zayne and Leon prompted Eishirou to wonder whether Zayne had suggested to his teammates to give mixing with Passives a try.

“Nice to see others mingling,” Zayne commented idly as they stepped out of the catering hall and into the gardens outside.

“It is.” Eishirou smiled and folded his arms behind his back as he regarded Zayne. “I know you forgot your mana cartage on purpose.”

Zayne didn’t reply nor look at him. He did smile, however.

“I don’t mind,” Eishirou continued. “It was nice, seeing the other side of the academy. There’s always been a huge divide between Passives and Elites. Been like that for as long as I can remember. Chroniclers are weak paper-pushers, and the bottom of the Academy Hierarchy. But Medics are off-limits. So, what happens when you’re both?”

Zayne snorted. “The Academy Hierarchy is stupid.”

Eishirou uttered a short laugh. “Right?”

“Anyway, have you worked with this professor before?” Zayne asked as they headed down the path that would take them to Block M.

Eishirou shook his head. “No, first time. I have no idea what to expect, to be honest.”

They both fell silent as they entered the inner halls of the study block. Eishirou himself hadn’t frequented this part of the academy often, so he wasn’t entirely confident in where they were to head to, first.

Thankfully, Jacob was already there waiting for them. He unexpectedly had a briefcase with him, though Eishirou didn’t think too much about it as he and Zayne approached.

“Ah, there you are,” Jacob said as a form of greeting. However, a telling smile soon made its way onto his lips. “With Zayne, nonetheless.”

Eishirou felt his features heat up and he tried to scowl. “Don’t say anything.”

Jacob uttered a short laugh before he held his hands up in front of him. “I’ll be good,” he promised in a teasing tone. “Nevertheless, you’ve arrived just in time. Let’s get going.”

He bent down to pick up the briefcase by his feet and turned to lead the way. They moved through a steady throng of students as they turned down a couple of hallways. Finally, they reached a room that had the name of Professor Jairus on a plaque upon the wall next to the ajar door.

Jacob raised a hand and knocked once upon the door before he pushed open the door. Essentially letting himself in. “Jairus, hope you don’t mind us turning up a bit early.”

Eishirou stepped into the room at Jacob’s heels. He paused just inside the room, however, and waited by with Zayne.

“Not at all, Jacob.”

A man who appeared to be in his late thirties with short, professionally kept black hair and bright sky-blue eyes behind a set of silver glasses greeted Jacob warmly. He leaned back from his desk and seemed to press a button on the arm of his chair. He then rolled out from behind his desk, revealing that he was indeed in an electronic wheelchair.

“Ah, you must be Eishirou,” the professor stated as he turned his gaze in his direction. “I’ve heard much about you.”

Nothing embarrassing, he hoped.

“Nice to meet you,” Eishirou returned politely.

“I see you’ve brought support with you.”

“This is Zayne,” Eishirou introduced, Zayne nodding his head simply in greeting. “He’s a friend.”

Jairus simply smiled. “I see. Well, welcome to you. Shall we get straight down to business? Today, I would like to walk you through a controlled meditation. Professor Chryses?”

Jacob lifted the briefcase and patted it with his hand. “Here.” He placed it upon Jairus’s desk and snapped it open. Nestled securely in conforming form sat a very familiar relic.

“The Red Lily?” Eishirou questioned, confusion evident.

“By my request,” Jairus explained. “In order to strengthen your recovery abilities, we need to work with the relic itself. Now, before that, I need you to elect an anchor.”

Eishirou blinked. “Anchor?”

“Someone who will be able to quickly awaken you from your meditation.”

“Ah, well-”

“Zayne should,” Jacob interrupted. “I’ll be happy with observing for now.”

“Sure,” Zayne answered before Eishirou had the chance to respond.

Jairus nodded his head, satisfied and wishing to move on. “Very well. Now, Eishirou; take the Red Lily in your hands and move toward the couch.”

Eishirou handed his shoulder bag to Jacob and moved toward the briefcase. He carefully lifted the Red Lily and cupped it with his hands. It felt slightly warm, though that was likely due to it being kept secure in the brief case. With the relic in his hands, he turned to move toward the couch that was located in a corner of the room. It appeared to be made of leather with pillows stacked at one end.

“Now, lie down and keep the relic close to your chest.”

Eishirou sat down on the edge before he scooted back and turned to lie down. He clutched the Red Lily in one hand as he used his other as leverage to get himself comfortable against the pillows.

“Close your eyes. Zayne, stay close. But do not touch Eishirou until I tell you.”

“Ok.”

Eishirou did as he was told. He heard footsteps and felt Zayne’s presence paused next to the couch, which was actually quite comforting.

“Now, focus in on my voice.”

Eishirou settled himself against the pillows and stared at the blackness behind his closed eyes.

“I want you to envision yourself in a white room with your third eye. There is nothing in this room. Just white walls.”

Within his mind’s eye, Eishirou opened his spiritual eyes. He found himself in the middle of a simple room. Four walls. No source of light. Just white.

“Now, look to your left. What do you see?”

He turned his head to the side. All that he could see was a single door.

“Good. Move toward the door. Open it.”

Eishirou crossed the room in three strides and stood before the door. He rested his hand on the golden door handle and hesitated for a moment. He wasn’t sure why, to be honest. He just felt as though it wasn’t, well, time for him to open this door yet.

He pushed that hesitancy aside, however, and slowly turned the handle. The door popped open and he slowly pulled the door before him as he peeked through to the other side.

“What do you see?”

Green. The vibrant, lush greenery of the Flutterlight Forest.

“Step through the door and into nature. Do you see anything else?”

Eishirou looked around him quickly. Did a three-sixty. The door to the room he stepped out of had disappeared. In its place was a tall white building.

Oh, it was the tower!

But…it looked different.

“How does it look different?”

It didn’t look as old. The white facade of the stone was vibrant and flawless. There was no moss, nor were there any vines coiling along the outside. Even the foliage around the structure looked different. It wasn’t as dense or wild as he had previous seen of the lighthouse.

“Does it have a door?”

Eishirou looked. Yeah, it did. It was wide open. No puzzle to be seen.

“Walk through the door.”

Eishirou crossed over the stone path that led to the tower. He hesitated as he approached the archway, once again feeling that sense that he wasn’t supposed to be there. Not yet. It was too early.

Once again, he pushed that aside and stepped through the archway.

“What do you see?”

The interior of the tower. Simple, pristine. Barely any furniture. Only the staircase was seen. And it, too, didn’t appear old. But new. A year or two old at the least.

“Walk up the stairs.”

Eishirou raised his eyes to the ceiling, noting that there was a circular opening at the very top. The same as he had witnessed with the tower not too long ago. He ascended the stairs, noting that he could hear a sound of some kind.

“What kind of noise?”

…Humming? No, someone lightly singing. It was almost familiar. It grew louder as he reached the top step.

“What do you see?”

There was…already someone else there. Before a window. An opening where the stained glass was.

Long white hair, a gentle face, and gentle brown eyes. That man...he looked similar to the underground mosaic and the one found within the tower. Though, his skin was a deep brown. He held a regal air to him. His posture, his presence; he was someone of great importance.

And resting upon his brow, nestled within a golden crown, sat the Red Lily. Bright and vivid against the long, flowing white hair.

Eishirou was unable to prevent a small gasp from passing his lips when the regal, almost ethereal man turned his head. And looked directly at him.

"Radiant Soul."

That voice! That was the voice he heard from the Red Lily. It was exactly the same.

"The time is not favourable," he said as he raised a hand toward him and brushed his fingertips against his brow. "This tower, once of protection, is now out of alignment. For now, leave this place be. You are too vulnerable. Strengthen your connection and learn the role of a Keeper."

Eishirou suddenly felt as though he was falling backwards only for something to suddenly grasp his shoulder. He snapped his eyes open with a start. Instead of the lush greenery of the Flutterlight Forest, he stared up at a plain beige ceiling.

"Easy now," a vaguely familiar voice stated. "Take slow breaths."

With the lingering feeling of warmth against his forehead, Eishirou began to remember what he had been doing. In his hand sat the Red Lily, the red crystals as vivid as ever.

That voice...who was that man? He looked similar to the underground mosaic and the stained-glass of the tower. Was he the residual energy stored within the relic or was he some form of entity that lived inside the red lily?

"Eishirou."

Promptly realizing that he wasn't alone in the room, Eishirou finally raised his gaze. He quickly glanced to his left where Zayne was crouched next to him. His hand rested on his shoulder. The very shoulder he felt something grasp to stop him from falling just moments ago.

"I'm fine," he instinctively stated. "I was just startled."

"What did you see?" Jairus asked him. "I lost communication with you for a moment."

Eishirou closed his eyes for a moment to gather himself. "I saw a man who looked like the one in the mosaics. And his voice was the same I heard from the Red Lily."

"What did he say?"

"He said something about me being too vulnerable and to learn the role of a Keeper," Eishirou explained as he opened his eyes.

Jairus tilted his head questioningly to the side. "Keeper?"

Eishirou shook his head. "I don't know what that means."

"I might," Jacob unexpectedly revealed.

Eishirou immediately looked over at him in surprise. "What? Where?"

Jacob folded an arm across his chest as he stroked his chin thoughtfully with his other hand. "Within Irwin's own research he had encountered the word "Keeper" several times. It appears to indicate a social role of importance. Like that of a priest or holy man. Something similar."

Well, the man he encountered definitely held a role of importance.

"I'll speak with Irwin about it further," Jacob confirmed, though also promptly ending that line of conversation. “Moving on, it seems that this session was a success. We have other avenues to explore.”

“Indeed,” Jairus nodded his head and leaned back in his wheelchair. “Truth be told, I was not expecting to progress this quickly. It appears that you have the significant mana to connect with this Red Lily. However, it appears to have a sentient being present. And it is that which is preventing you from reaching recordings.”

“Sentient being?” Eishirou repeated before realisation struck him. “You mean it has a consciousness?”

Jairus nodded his head as he rested his elbows on the arms of his wheelchair. “It may be residual, but yes, that is correct. I would like to work with you further on this project. But not today. It seems that this relic has conditions to be met before it will become active.”

“Let’s return it to the museum for now,” Jacob stated as he crossed the room to retrieve the Red Lily from Eishirou’s grasp. He then gave him a purely patently scowl. “And you, I think you should have the rest of the afternoon off.”

Eishirou wanted to argue that he was fine, but in all honesty, he did feel a little bit dizzy. Likely overwhelmed from the experienced he just had. “Ah, alright.”

Jacob nodded his head, satisfied with that response before he turned to look toward Zayne. A half-smile suddenly appeared on his lips. “And I trust Zayne to escort you back to your room, hm?”

#original fiction #young adult #scifi fantasy #mystery #relic keepers: awakening of the red lily

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iwantthedean · 5 years

Text

A New Fall

Graphic courtesy of @atc74.

Part Five: Empire. Sweet-tart, crisp, juicy.

Summary: Y/N begins to show Jensen the ropes around the farm and town, and a new offer is put on the table. Pairing: None … yet. (But I think we all know where this is going.) Word Count: 2145 Warnings: Set post-Season 15, which I know makes a lot of people sad to think about. Square Filled: This entire series will fill my proposal square for BTZ Bingo.

A/N: Thank you for the continued support! I am loving writing this series :)

Masterlist

Bartholomew Kemp’s office was quickly becoming your least favorite place to visit. Since he had told you that you would have to sell your family’s farm, the bad news had continued to roll your way.

Today, you were visiting after the discussion with your father, letting him know what was going on, that an offer had been made, and that you were likely going to accept it. Your father had cautioned you about accepting the offer, and stated that he would talk to Bartholomew himself. He trusted the old business manager, but he determined that two business minds were better than one. If it meant the slightest possibility that you could keep the place, you were okay with that.

“I’m gathering the paperwork for your father,” Bartholomew informed you, “but in the meantime, you’ve got another, anonymous offer on the property.”

“Another offer?” you frowned. “Why is it anonymous?”

He shrugged. “It came from the bank, and they simply stated that their client wishes to remain anonymous -- they can do that, I suppose.”

You tried for the millionth time not to cry over all of this. “How does it compare to Jensen’s offer?”

“It’s fairly competitive. I’ll send this to your father, and I’ll send copies home for you to look at. How are things going in the meantime?”

“They’re going,” you shrugged. “I -- it’s more personal, I guess, but I made a peace offering to Jensen. He agreed to let me stay through the holidays, although now I guess that depends on which offer we take. In the meantime, I’m going to show him around the place more, how things run and all that. He’s coming over later to help me start prepping for the festival this weekend.”

Bartholomew kept his smile to himself. “Well, that’s a turn of events. Let me make a copy of this, and I’ll send you on your way so you can get ready for company.”

You waited patiently for the necessary documents, wishing with all your might that none of this was actually happening. You were past the stage of believing it had to be a bad dream, but that didn’t stop you from wanting, every now and then, to be past the sale and moving on with your life.

And to add another offer on to the plate? You knew that the land was good, you knew the home was beautiful … you never suspected or expected that there would be more than one offer on the place. As Bartholomew came back with the papers and sent you on your way, you determined that you were going to do some digging and find out who this anonymous buyer was.

* * * * *

Fall Festival preparations started with some simple yard work, Jensen discovered when he arrived at Y/N’s house not long after she had wrapped up her school day. The farmhands would take care of the orchard and the pumpkin patch, for the most part, but she informed Jensen that her family had always done up the house and made it suitable for visitors during the four-day festival.

“There’s half-days at the school Thursday and Friday, since so many families pull their kids out in the afternoon anyway,” Y/N explained while they raked leaves in the front yard. “Friday night is a big chili cook-off, Saturday night is the carnival, and everything wraps up by Sunday afternoon.”

He reached for a sturdy trash bag. Y/N held it open while he started loading in the raked leaves. “Sounds like a good weekend. I’m looking forward to being around for it. Do you get to enjoy much of it?”

Y/N shrugged. “For the most part. I’ll help Kitty at The Farmer’s Stand Thursday and Friday, and Saturday morning, but I always go to the chili cook-off Friday evening. Saturday afternoon we get the most visitors here, so I’ll be around for that. Then the carnival Saturday evening, and puttering around here Sunday.”

Jensen smiled as he dumped more leaves into the bag. He wanted to do things the way she did, wanted to learn how things were done so he wasn’t changing anything if he bought the farm. Maybe part of him wanted to be with her as much as possible, too. He wasn’t sure how to ask to join her without essentially inviting himself, so he kept his mouth shut and helped her finish up with the leaves.

“Now, we bake,” she announced when the bags of leaves were all lined up by the barn. “I took care of the flower beds over the weekend, and I’ll mow when I get home tomorrow.”

Jensen followed her into the house, making sure to wipe his boots on the mat on the back patio. He closed the slider behind him and made a mental note to show up sometime in the morning and do the mowing for her.

He waited patiently while Y/N pulled a myriad of baking supplies down from the cupboards. She was going to make some of everything, she informed him, so that Kitty’s shop could be well-stocked for the weekend.

“Before I go, I’ll type up all these recipes, if you want.” Then, she stopped and frowned. “By the way, have you spoken with Bartholomew recently? Like, today?”

Jensen shook his head and leaned forward on the counter. “No, why?”

“He got another offer on the farm. This person is an anonymous buyer, made their offer through the bank. He said it’s fairly competitive with your offer.”

“I’ll call him in the morning. Which offer do you think you’ll take?”

She looked sadly at her desk and the stack of papers in the middle of it. “I honestly haven’t looked at the new offer yet. For lots of reasons.”

He didn’t have to know her well to know that the subject was upsetting her. Instead of discussing the matter further, he nudged her with his elbow.

“So, what do I have to do to get you to start with those cinnamon rolls for our baking tonight?”

The change in subject succeeded in making Y/N laugh. Jensen grinned too, and listened while she told him how to pick the best apples for baking versus the ones that were better for snacking or salads. They peeled and sliced apples together, then worked on doughs for both the cinnamon rolls and a couple of pies.

By the time their baking endeavors were in the oven, they were both starving. Y/N didn’t feel much like cooking, so Jensen offered to go into town and pick up some takeout. He returned not too much later with a large pizza. He set it on the counter, which Y/N had cleaned up while he was gone.

“How much of a slob would you think I am if I just set the open box on the counter and didn’t bother with plates?” Y/N chuckled.

Jensen smirked. “Wouldn’t bother me any.”

“If you’ll grab us some napkins from the table, I’ll get sodas out of the fridge.”

Within minutes, they were sitting on barstools next to each other, chowing down on the warm, cheesy, meaty pizza. Jensen took the opportunity to look around the house; it was so warm and inviting. The autumn decorations weren’t too much, but they were noticeable and tasteful. While he suspected that much of these traditions had been born of the three generations before her, Y/N had done an excellent job of keeping the house a home.

After they cleaned up the pizza mess and pulled the baked goods from the oven, Jensen decided it was time to go back out to the hotel. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome, as much as he was beginning to love being on the farm.

“Thank you for all of your help,” Y/N offered when she walked him to the front porch.

“I don’t know how much I actually helped, but … well, thanks for teaching me some of the ropes. Same time tomorrow?”

Y/N nodded. “You were help, but the company was nice, too. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jensen lingered for a moment, unsure of what he felt like he was waiting for. Y/N looked at him, waiting for him to say or do something. In the end, he gently squeezed her hand as he placed a kiss on her cheek, then bid her goodnight.

* * * * *

When you recapped the evening for Taylor, her eyes went wide and she looked at you like you were an idiot.

“Y/N! He’s into you!”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. The age difference alone has got to make him out of my league. Not to mention, I’m a schoolteacher from Middle-of-Nowhere, Massachusetts, and he’s an actor.”

“The age difference isn’t really that big, and,” she swallowed the bite of salad that had been stuffed in her cheek, “you are just as eligible as anyone else, Y/N/N. I think you forget that sometimes.”

You pursed your lips. “Maybe with the new offer, he’s trying to sweeten me up so he can buy the place.”

Taylor shook her head, adamant that this newfound epiphany of hers was accurate. “He held your hand in the orchard, he’s hanging out with you all the time, the goodbye last night -- this isn’t about the farm. It’s about you.”

As you took a bite of leftover pizza, you thought over your friend’s theory. You supposed you could see where she would see all of that, but you still weren’t buying it.

“We’ll see, when all is said and done,” Taylor shrugged. She was so confident she was right, but you didn’t even want to hope.

Hell, you didn’t even want to admit that you were into Jensen, too.

* * * * *

Right after school let out and all of the kids had been picked up or sent home on the bus, you drove over to The Farmer’s Stand. A crowd was already starting to gather; you took that as a good sign.

“Where do you want me to start, Ms. Kitty?”

She waved you over to the cash register. “I’d like to get out from behind this counter for a while, if you don’t mind. Mingle with people.”

“No, I don’t mind.”

She gave you a hug before going to walk the floor of the little market. You returned it, then set down on the stool behind the counter, waiting for customers to bring up their goods for purchase. Ms. Kitty had thought ahead and had a price list set out for you; you’d run the register before, so you were pretty set in your job for the afternoon.

Stephen, Ms. Kitty’s son, came in a couple hours after you. He frowned when he saw you sitting behind the counter, but masked the expression quickly.

“I guess I forgot the festival was starting already,” he mumbled.

The man was a few years older than you, but had grown up in town just as you had -- but had still managed to forget the festival? You’d never understand living in a place like this and not taking some pride in the town’s traditions.

“All the way through Sunday,” you commented.

“You going to be here everyday?”

No, your brow knitted into a frown. “Today, tomorrow, and Saturday morning. Just like my family has always done. Is that a problem?”

Before Stephen could reply, someone else spoke up. “I hope it’s not -- and I hope it’s not a problem that I plan to be here with her. Gotta learn somehow.”

Your frown immediately changed to a smile when you saw that Jensen had arrived. He found another stool to set next to you. Stephen disappeared into the back office, not bothering to greet Jensen or converse any further.

“He’s pleasant,” Jensen commented.

“Isn’t he?” you chuckled. “I’ve never understood how a mother like Ms. Kitty could have a son like Stephen. He doesn’t seem to care much about the town at all.”

“Thank goodness for you two women, to balance out people like him then.”

You rewarded his comment with a smile -- one that grew when he smiled back, and the afternoon sun lit up his eyes, making them a brighter shade of green than they already were.

“You okay?”

You hadn’t realized you’d been staring until Jensen waved a hand in front of your face. “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry.”

A customer coming to the counter to make a purchase provided a timely rescue. You showed Jensen the price list and how to work the register while you rang up the young family.

The distraction was brief, however, and as soon as Jensen struck conversation up with you again, your heart was pitter-pattering in your chest. You wanted to blame it on Taylor and the conversation you’d had with her earlier in the day, but you knew that these feelings were all your own.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Whole Shebang: @illisea @ashleymalfoy @busybee612 @mrswhozeewhatsis @sherlock44 @ravenesque @feelmyroarrrr @atc74 @theplaidshirtmadness @blacktithe7 @moonlessnight14 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @smoothdogsgirl @melbrandes @xtina2191 @spnbaby-67 @emoryhemsworth @goldenolaf25 @gabriels-trix @applesugar88 @rainflowermoon @deansgirl215 @thisismysecrethappyplace @calaofnoldor @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @sleepylunarwolf @chances-and-miracles @sandlee44

Jack Attack: @tiffanycaruso @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk

Two for the Money: @jayankles @akshi8278 @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @supernatural-jackles @adoptdontshoppets

A New Fall: @marilynnlew @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @traceyaudette @ellen-reincarnated1967 @maddiepants @littlewhiterose @tftumblin @monkeymcpoopoo @pinknerdpanda @thatgirl1456 @deangirl7695 @foxyjwls007 @woodworthti666 @writtingrose @flamencodiva @dean-winchesters-bacon @cap-just-said-language

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shipmistress9 · 4 years

Text

FTLOAP: Chapter 46: I’ll Make It Up To You

Fandom: HTTYD

Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.

Rating: Explicit

FF-net - AO3 -

Discord-server for discussions and questions

Part 1: Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11;

Part 2: Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Interlude 1; Chapter 15; Chapter 16; Chapter 17; Chapter 18; Chapter 19; Chapter 20; Chapter 21; Chapter 22; Chapter 23; Chapter 24; Chapter 25; Chapter 26; Interlude 2; Chapter 27: Chapter 28 ; Chapter 29 ; Chapter 30; Chapter 31; Chapter 32; Interlude 3; Bonus 1; Chapter 33

Part 3: Chapter 34; Chapter 35; Chapter 36; Interlude 4; Chapter 37; Chapter 38; Chapter 39; Chapter 40; Interlude 5; Chapter 41; Chapter 42; Chapter 43; Chapter 44, Chapter 45

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

Taglist: @drchee5e @hey-its-laura-again @thepixiedustfactory

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

AN: Yay, finally a new chapter! ^^ I'm truly sorry that I couldn't finish this as announced in November. But my daughter decided to come a little earlier than expected, throwing off many of our plans... We're both doing fine though. :)

This chapter... Is, for the most part, self-indulgent fluff. I hope you won't mind. ;) But there's also another bit, one I know many of you have been waiting for since forever. ;) The title comes, again, from an Imagine Dragons song, 'I'll make it up to you' this time. It's a rather fitting song for Hiccup right now, don't you think?

. o O o .

After their long discussion about how County Ravenledge could be claimed and improved, Astrid and the others having left, Hiccup was left with a chaotic whirlwind of emotions.

On the one hand, he was excited and elated by this apparently simple and direct solution to their problems. They had a plan, and if everything worked out, there was nothing in the way of him and Astrid being together. It would be a difficult path to follow, for sure, with the overwhelming prospect of ruling an entire county of people whose culture and customs he hardly knew. It was more than a bit intimidating, the more he thought about it, especially given the conditions of the place. But if that was what the Gods demanded of him, then he would do it.

But on the other hand... he was anxious, so much so that his hands wouldn’t stop clenching nervously, no matter what he did to distract himself. Eret, Dagur, and even Astrid seemed convinced that Grand Duke Oswald and the King would agree to give him the title without much resistance, but in the privacy of his own thoughts, he wasn’t so sure about that. Those powerful men knew about his life, knew enough to know how much of a failure he was, in pretty much every aspect. Why would they agree to support him so openly?

It wasn’t as if they could win anything out of this, could they?

Later, as he helped Eret get out of the elaborate and dust-and-sweat-fouled day-clothes he was wearing, he couldn’t keep from asking the question which had buzzed in his mind like a bee. “Why are you doing all this for us?”

With a pained groan, Eret laid back on his bed as Hiccup brought the bowl of warm water over from the hearth. It was essential to keep the wound on Eret’s chest as clean as possible, and since it was difficult for Eret to do so himself, it was Hiccup’s responsibility to help him. “What do you mean?” he replied, sounding puzzled and tired after a long exhausting day.

“Everything,” Hiccup said after a short pause, shrugging. “I understand that you care for Astrid and want to see her happy. But all this goes far beyond that. Supporting me in this… You know as well as I do how that could backfire and weaken you, politically I mean. So… why?”

The plan was that Astrid, Dagur, and Eret would speak with their fathers in the morning, during or possibly even before their common breakfast. It made sense, of course; it was better to wait until then instead of approaching them now in the middle of the night and dealing with them while they were grumpy. They’d talked for a long while and by now, half the castle had to be asleep already. But waiting until the morning to get the confirmation was hard. And even though Hiccup knew that Eret might have his own reasons for supporting him, reasons that wouldn’t necessarily convince the most powerful men and leaders of the Kingdom, he still hoped that his answer would ease his mind at least a little bit.

Eret chuckled, interrupted by the occasional wince as Hiccup cleaned the area around the cut on his chest. “Two reasons,” he eventually replied. “First: I know you. And I trust you. We trust you. You’re a good man, Hiccup, honest, reliable, and diligent. You’re going to be a good leader to those battered people. As Dagur said, it’ll take time. But I’m sure that, under your leadership, County Ravenledge and its people can thrive again. So supporting you is definitely not a waste of time or effort. It’s for the good of the people, and that’s what our main interest should be, right?”

Hiccup nodded, inwardly hoping that he could live up to this trust, these expectations. “And… the second reason?” he asked cautiously.

Eret sighed, his eyes falling closed. “The second reason is that we know only too well how it is to love without hope. Dag and I… we knew right from the start that our love had no future. We were prepared. But even though we always knew our time would be limited… Actually having it come to an end with the wedding just… just hurt! And even though we’ve got a reprieve of some sort now, we know it’ll end someday. Just thinking about it is driving me insane.” He paused and took a deep breath before letting it out again. “For you, it’s different though… for you, there’s hope. It might be a slim hope and the road to reach it will be hard, but it’s possible. So we want to help you in whatever way we can, simply because that is something we can do.”

Hiccup nodded again, putting the water away and handing Eret a piece of cloth to dry himself up. “Thank you,” he murmured. It was far too little to convey the gratitude he felt, but it was all he could come up with.

However, it seemed to be enough for Eret. “Anytime,” he replied in a light voice. “But now, you better leave. Tuff should be here any minute now. And I want to say ‘Have a good night’, but... but I’d rather it not get too good if you know what I mean, so…”

Hiccup was incredibly glad that he wasn’t facing Eret at the moment, that he wouldn’t notice the blush on his face. “Don’t worry,” he mumbled awkwardly. “I won’t risk losing her again.”

He hadn’t meant to say those last words out loud; they’d slipped off his lips before he’d been able to think about it. And, as expected, there was a confused frown on his cousin’s face when he turned back to face him. But since he didn’t ask, Hiccup didn’t feel obliged to explain himself and quickly changed the topic. “Is there anything else you need? Before I leave, I mean?”

Still frowning, Eret shook his head, so Hiccup quickly bid him good night and left the elaborate bedchamber.

Once the door closed behind him, Hiccup exhaled deeply. Eret’s brief explanation had soothed him, but only a little. His reasons were understandable enough, and Hiccup wanted to believe that, if the situation was reversed, he and Astrid would also do whatever they could to make it possible for Eret and Dagur to stay together. And as for the other reason… He could only hope that Eret was right and that he would be able to provide a better life for the people of Ravenledge one day.

If he even got the chance to try.

He’d been right, Eret hadn’t been able to provide him with the answer he longed for, but at least his words had settled his anxiety to a bearable level. But that helped to ease his chaotic emotions only so much. Because the excitement and anxiety over their plan had only been part of his emotional turmoil. The question about what the months and years to come would bring them was certainly important, but right now, the more immediate future was a little more pressing to him.

He’d promised Eret that there was no reason to be worried and he was dead set on keeping this promise, to Eret and to himself alike. But there were more facets to that promise than Eret thought.

Sticking to what Eret was concerned about and not having sex with Astrid until they were truly married wouldn’t be a problem. They’d managed relatively well so far, and the prospect of not having to wait two more years but only a couple of weeks would make holding out even easier. Theoretically, at least.

Practically though, just thinking about tonight – and if it worked as planned the following nights as well – made his entire body tingle in anticipation. Hours of being alone with Astrid, of being free to kiss and to hold her... Gods, how he missed feeling her soft body against his own, his hands exploring her, tasting her lips and her skin, listening to–

With a low groan, he shook his head, chasing those thoughts away. He couldn’t– no, mustn’t indulge in those fantasies! “Just a few weeks,” he reminded himself in a low whisper, biting his lip in the hope that the pain might help him focus. He had no confirmation of his fears on this matter, no certainty that their getting intimate before had somehow caused their separation. But he also couldn’t shake off the suspicion that that might have been the reason, that his overconfidence had angered the Gods and the temporary separation had been a warning. And he wouldn’t risk losing her again! Even if it meant going weeks or maybe even months without touching her like he wanted to – he would take that unresolved longing over possibly losing her forever at any time. He just hoped Astrid would understand his reticence.

Because on top of everything else, there was one other aspect that might make keeping his promise to Eret a little more complicated. Knowing Astrid, Hiccup suspected that she was going to disagree with him on this point, but he just knew that it was his fault she’d been through so much pain during the past weeks. If he hadn’t been so stupid, hadn’t given up too soon, hadn’t given in to his longing for her in the first place…

Sighing, he shook his head. No matter how much he wished it were otherwise, he couldn’t undo the past. But he was going to do everything to keep any more pain away from her from now on. And furthermore, it meant that he’d do everything she asked for, that he would follow her every wish. To make it up to her.

He was aware of the possible contradiction of these two urges, and his thoughts were still running in circles when Tuff appeared behind one of the elaborate tapestries a little while later. Hiccup rose as he silently beckoned him to follow. Just as Ruff had said, the passage was narrow and clearly didn’t get used regularly, with dust and cobwebs everywhere. But Hiccup didn’t pay much attention to the condition of the space, nervousness and anticipation settling in his stomach. At the end of this walk, he would see her again, be alone with her. And while he was unquestionably looking forward to it, his breath coming fast and even his bad leg moving without complaint in the cramped passageway, there was the point that, as so often before, the night would be a tough balancing act between what he wanted to do and what he had to do.

. o O o .

Agitatedly chewing on her lower lip, Astrid sat at the edge of her bed, her eyes glued to the door. Any minute now, Ruff would lead Hiccup in here. It wouldn't be long anymore, she knew that. But still, every single second of waiting felt like an eternity.

Gods, she was such a mess.

Ever since she’d overheard the Grand Dukes’ conversation earlier that day, all her thoughts had circled around County Ravenledge and how this could be the solution to their problem. But now that she’d presented this idea to Hiccup and their friends and they’d agreed on a plan, practical reality was catching up with her again.

She and Hiccup would spend the entire night together, and in contrast to that night after the ball where she’d fallen asleep in his arms, this time they wouldn’t be too exhausted to do… whatever they wanted to do. The thought made her heart beat faster and she balled her hands into fists to keep them from trembling, crumpling the blanket and her nightgown in the process. Gods, why was she so nervous? This wasn’t the first night she spent alone with him, after all.

But no, she wasn’t nervous. She was excited. And it was because she’d been with Hiccup before that she was so looking forward to this, couldn’t wait for him to finally be here.

What would the night bring?

Would this night be a loving reunion after these painful weeks, with slow caresses and exploring each other anew? She could picture it, softly entangled between the sheets of her bed, celebrating their love until the sun rose again.

Or would they jump right back to how it had been before, heated passionate kisses without preamble? She wouldn’t mind that either. Oh, how she longed for his touch and to feel again the exhilaration only he could bring her.

But maybe… maybe they would continue where they’d stopped more directly. If Hiccup remembered to bring that pot of scented oil, then… She sucked in a quick breath and bit down on her already slightly swollen lip to keep herself from moaning. All too well she remembered how it had felt to have his fingers inside her. Would he insist on preparing her again for tomorrow night or could they… jump right in? Heat rose to her cheeks, and she wondered whether she could manage to stay a little quieter or what Ruff and Tuff would say in the morning.

Although… there also was another option. Not that she expected this night to go that way, no certainly not. But maybe… it was a possibility, wasn’t it? Now that the solution for their problem was within reach, maybe they could even go a step further. They would be married in a few weeks – she vehemently refused to entertain the possibility that it could be otherwise. The date for her wedding was set, irrevocably. Nothing would delay or prevent that, her father had made that clear. Was that also true if an inspection by one of Freya’s Gythias revealed that her maidenhead was broken already? That could have happened at any time, during that accident on the ride for example. Or when she vowed to Fyrir Gothi herself that she’d never been intimate with anyone but Hiccup, her husband-to-be? That could work, couldn’t it? Nobody would want to risk a scandal, after all. So even if she fell pregnant tonight… that wouldn’t really matter, would it?

Astrid’s blood was boiling hotter and her throat went dry at that idea, her vision becoming a little blurry. Gods, why wasn’t Hiccup here already?

In the next moment, she nearly fell off her bed, her heart jumping into her throat and beating furiously, when a knock came from the door. Hastily, she scrambled to her feet, bare on the plush carpet, and called for Ruff to come in.

“Tuff brought something for you,” Ruff announced, smirking when she noticed Astrid’s state, and stepped aside to allow Hiccup behind her to enter. “I’d say I wish you a good night… but–”

“But I’d like to sleep for once,” came Tuff’s voice from somewhere behind her. It made Astrid blush even harder.

Snickering, Ruff shrugged. “There you go. See you two in the morning.” And with those words, she left, pulling the door closed behind her – and leaving Astrid and Hiccup alone in her bedroom.

A heavy silence fell over them, only interrupted by their audible breathing. This was truly happening. Hiccup was here, in her bedroom! A place where – except for the occasional exception of a healer or her actual brother – nobody but Ruff was allowed. Not even Tuff would enter this room without a damn good reason. And now, she was alone here with Hiccup, with the man she loved, the man she was going to marry. The man whose touch and closeness she craved beyond anything else.

And they had all night…

. o O o .

Hiccup barely noticed how the door closed behind Astrid’s maidservant. His head was entirely empty, wiped clean since the moment he’d entered. He’d expected that spending the night with Astrid would be intense, but just being here was so much more than he’d anticipated. This room, so personal with pictures and decorations that just screamed Astrid, the bed, so big and inviting, and Astrid herself, hair loosely bound in her usual nighttime braid and dressed in only a thin night shift – it all made for an incredibly heady atmosphere.

“Hey,” Astrid eventually breathed a little shyly after he’d done nothing but stare at her for... he couldn’t say how long. Long enough, probably.

“Hey.” Swallowing hard, Hiccup managed to reply in the same manner. If she’d hoped for more of a reaction though, he couldn’t help but disappoint her, unable to form coherent thoughts or even to move. His eyes lingered where they shouldn’t, on her parted lips, plush and inviting, begging him to kiss them, and on the curves of her breasts and hips barely hidden by the thin fabric around her.

Freya, how much he wanted her…

His mouth went dry, even swallowing again and licking his lips to wet them not helping in the slightest. He still knew he couldn’t let anything happen, not for real. But it was nigh on impossible to remember that when she slowly came closer, bright eyes filled with warmth and longing holding him hostage.

When she stretched to kiss him, her lips on his felt so soft, somehow softer even than only hours before or during the one night they'd spent together on Eret's couch. They drew a low groan from somewhere deep in his chest, and without his doing, his hands curled around her waist, pulling her closer. Her response robbed him of the last shred of coherence when her hands grabbed at his hair, fingernails scraping, and she tilted her head to deepen their kiss.

Hiccup momentarily lost track of everything. All that mattered was the feeling of her lips, the taste of her skin as his mouth wandered down her neck, and the lovely sound of her gasping his name into his ear, silk and lace bunched up between his fingers as he hurled her closer still. Gods, he'd missed this so much, this closeness and heat, the intimacy of reconnecting with the missing part of his soul, with her, and it felt so completely right.

How couldn’t it be right?

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small voice was warning him, but it got lost in the flood of sensation she elicited when she gently but determinedly tugged him along. His thighs hit the edge of her bed and without really noticing he kicked off his shoes before they both tumbled onto the soft mattress.

It was all just a blur. They rolled around on the bed until she lay beneath him, her lithe body tight against his and her hand tugging at him until he was where she wanted him. Her hands were everywhere, in his hair, running down his sides, clutching at his back while her lips stole every coherent thought from his mind.

Hiccup shook with desire, her touches sending sparks like lightning strikes through his entire body. Heat pooled in his lower belly, so close to where he could feel her against him. Resisting her was impossible.

Astrid uttered the softest moans when his hands roamed over her body in return, making his head spin and the thin fabric wasn’t enough to keep him from feeling her inviting warmth. He couldn't get enough, was addicted to every noise and every sensation, now after their separation even more so than before. Leaning down, his mouth wandered down her neck, kissing and tasting her, feeling her heartbeat pulsing against his tongue.

A shudder ran through his body when he felt her touch on his bare back beneath his tunic, not hesitant at all where fingers dug into scarred skin. It reminded him of how scared he’d once been of how she would react to his mangled body, to the signs of his failures, and of how much he trusted her now.

But the reminder also brought a brief moment of clarity to his mind, making him realise what they were doing. He lay on top of Astrid on her bed, with her thin night shift making a poor job at covering her body – especially with the skirt bunched up somewhere around her hips and the neckline nearly dropping off her shoulders. With the way she gazed up at him through dazed eyes and that pink flush on her cheeks, she looked breathtakingly beautiful, almost agonizingly. All he wanted at that moment was to give in, to feel her eager touch on his skin, to let her take off his tunic like she was trying just now, and to not care about the consequences.

But he did care, and greatly so.

"No," Hiccup gasped, fighting to keep his clarity of mind and not give in to her oh so tempting touch. He shook his head as if to clear it and then rolled off her with a groan, hands moving to cover his face. "No, no, we can't… mustn't… no…"

Gods, he was an idiot! Why had he let it come this far when he’d known to be wary of the temptation? With brutal force, he pulled up the memory of how she’d looked when he’d left her standing in the armoury, of all the pain he’d put her through. No matter how sweet her skin tasted on his tongue, it wasn’t worth risking her being in such pain again.

Although, it might be too late already. He clearly remembered the pain and confusion on her face whenever he’d pulled away from her before, her insecurities and fear of rejection. Why, oh why, hadn’t he resisted right from the start? If he’d only kissed her without getting carried away and explained himself right away… But he hadn’t resisted, had given in to his desire so readily, and now, he’d done it again, had–

“What is it?”

Her voice pulled him out of his whirling thoughts like nothing else could.

He’d expected her to be disappointed and hurt, but there was none of that. Instead, she sounded mostly calm and even a little curious, throwing him off track completely.

Gulping, he lowered his hands, his eyes finding hers in an instant. They were big, her pupils dilated, and there was a distinct flush on her cheeks, her breath coming a little faster than was normal. But aside from those obvious signs of arousal, she seemed surprisingly composed.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to… to hurt you or reject you.”

“I know you didn’t,” she replied, her expression turning soft but also a little sad as her eyes dropped back to his lips for a heartbeat.

Hiccup swallowed again and sat up, turning around to better look at hero better talk to her. “You-you’re not… upset? That I wouldn’t...” Breaking off, he only nodded at her, her bare shoulders and neck so alluring that it was hard to even look at her.

Unintentionally taunting him further, she took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with it, before she sat up as well. It made her shift slip even further down her arm, but she caught it before it could slip off completely and pulled it back up over her shoulder when she noticed him staring at exposed skin. When he looked up at her face again, she was smiling softly, her eyes gleaming.

“Hiccup, I know that you would never hurt me,” she said, that soft smile becoming even more beautiful somehow. “And I… I trust you, you know? In you and in our feelings, in our bond and our fate. Nothing will ever separate us again.” She frowned as if looking for the right words. “It’s… it sounds silly, I guess. Cocky. But I know that you... want me. There were times where I worried, yes, but those are over. So, if you refuse to touch me now… well, then I know it’s not because you don’t want to. I trust that you have a reason, something I just don’t get yet. But I also know that… I know that I can ask you everything. That I don’t need to be afraid or embarrassed, not ever. So… what is it?”

Hiccup could only gaze at her in awe, lips parting but unable to come up with a response. By the Gods, she was perfect! Once again he wondered what he’d done to deserve having her in his life.

Instead of answering, he leaned in and kissed her again. Maybe that wasn’t the wisest thing to do given how much his heart was still racing from their heated kiss only moments before. But he was more careful now, the kiss more controlled this time, fueled by gratitude and love instead of desire as he lifted his hand to cradle her face. She really was amazing. His thumb caressed her cheek as he ended the kiss and he instead leaned his forehead against hers. “I love you,” he whispered hoarsely.

Chuckling, Astrid retreated. “I love you too,” she replied, the warmth in her eyes almost enough to make him melt then and there. Then they lit up with a teasing spark. “But if that’s the reason why you retreated, then you’ll have to elaborate.”

Hiccup couldn't help but snort in amusement at her remark, even as he grimaced. He just hoped she would still be this understanding after he'd laid out his reasons. With a slight nod, he stood up, putting a little more space between them. He needed to explain himself and getting distracted by her closeness wouldn’t do him much good now.

"You're probably going to think I'm overreacting," he began, taking a few steps up and down her room. Casually, he looked around, taking in random details without really registering them. Doing anything just to not get distracted again. "But, this separation... Somehow, I feel like it was some kind of punishment. Or a warning maybe. I mean, sure, Cami said that what we did, getting intimate and all, wasn't against the rules. But even she can't know what the Gods really want." Hiccup paused, warily glancing over at her. But she didn't say anything, sitting at the edge of the high bed and watching him with her head cocked in confusion, so he quickly went on. "It's just… the timing, you know? Right before we were about to take that huge step and do anal sex, this… this major obstacle was thrown into our way.” Agitatedly, he threw his arms up, gesturing wildly. “And I'm having a tough time accepting that to only have been a coincidence. What if it was a sign instead? A sign that we're supposed to wait until we're truly married. Not just with actually having sex, but also with… well, with everything else.”

He could feel her disappointment now, even though she tried hard to not let it show. “Uh, okay?” she replied, a little insecurely. It was as if he could see the cogs in her head turning until she spoke again. “That’s… well, maybe you’re right, but…” She paused again, thinking, then shook her head. “I don’t think that makes much sense. I mean, it didn’t just happen because of what we did. Me getting married and all that, it had been planned for months, since just before the Midwinter ceremony.”

Hiccup nodded; she had a point, after all. But something about what she’d just said still poked at something in his mind. “Since before Midwinter?” How could she be sure about that?

“At least that’s what Eret mentioned,” she confirmed with a slight shrug. “Something about how Daniel had acted differently from one day to the other. Since that day you all went to meet Cami that first time, remember? He said that Daniel opted out of that visit at short notice and had a long talk with Father instead, and after that, his behaviour changed?”

Hiccup paled, his heart stuttering painfully. “That…” he muttered. “Gods, that’s even worse.” He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and tried to put order into his jumbling thoughts as it was clear that Astrid didn’t understand. “That night… Don’t you remember? That’s when we started. When Cami told me it would be all right to get intimate with you if we didn’t go too far and when you were waiting for me at the stables then, when we–”

“– when you made me come the first time,” she completed his sentence. There was understanding in her voice now, regret in her eyes.

He nodded again, gulping. “Exactly. And if that’s the night when your father decided to pull your wedding forward and to thwart all my plans to gain a title… Yeah, no, I really don’t believe that’s a coincidence!”

Astrid still didn’t seem convinced though. Chewing her lower lip, she slowly shook her head, thinking. “I don’t know, Hiccup. That’s just–”

“Exactly,” he interrupted her gently, stepping closer and reaching for her hand. “I don’t know either. But I’m not going to risk losing you again.”

At that, all her doubts and worries melted off her features and got replaced by something immeasurable softer. She pulled him closer and firmly intertwined her fingers with his. “You won’t lose me. Ever.”

Hiccup couldn’t help but return her soft smile, squeezing her hand but not replying directly. He wouldn’t take her or their future for granted again.

“So,” Astrid went on after a short pause, “what exactly does this mean now? Will you stay here tonight?”

Sighing, Hiccup nodded. Of course, strictly thinking even him being here and alone with her went far beyond what he should do. He should apologise to Astrid, thank her servants for their help, and leave, should not risk getting overwhelmed by temptation again. It would be the prudent thing to do. But even with all logical reasoning and pondering, there were things he simply couldn’t do – and staying away from Astrid was one of them.

“Yes, I will. I don’t know anymore which rules apply to us, so… Well, in that vision I had, the Goddess told me that I’d have to do what comes naturally to me. So I’ll just have to trust in my own judgement, I guess. And as long as we don’t get carried away, I don’t feel like being here is wrong.”

Astrid visibly relaxed. “That’s good. Because I don’t think so either,” she replied with a breathy little chuckle, but then became serious again. “But what else does it mean? Where would you draw the line? Just… just so I know?”

She sounded so vulnerable…

Hiccup gulped, reminding himself once more of how easily he could hurt her, of the power they both had over each other. He raised his hand to brush a strand of hair out of her face, caressing her soft skin as gently as he could. “I think this is all right,” he murmured, leaning closer. “And this, too.”

His lips brushed over hers and she hummed, mouth twitching into a smile as his tongue poked out to taste her. Slowly, almost despite himself, his hand rose to cup the back of her head, pulling her closer again, deeper into their kiss. Astrid responded with a happy sigh, lips parting to welcome him.

Quickly, the kiss grew firmer, more heated with breathless groans, tongues swirling, and teeth nipping at soft lips. Hiccup trembled with repressed desire; she was just so wonderful, perfect, everything. But he was careful this time, making sure that his hands stayed near her head, dropping only to her neck and shoulders and not lower. He could feel that Astrid wanted more, wanted to melt against him, to touch him, and he greatly appreciated that she held back nonetheless. His ability to resist temptation only reached so far.

When he pulled back again, there was a warm glow in her eyes, something that hadn’t been there just a minute ago but which he felt, too. After the months of exploring each other before her birthday, sticking to only rather innocent kisses like this one felt like not enough. But at the same time… it was enough. The closeness and assurance were all they needed, for now at least. Everything else would come back to them over time.

“Yes, I think it’s okay for me to be here,” he repeated, his voice a little rougher than before. “It’s okay for us to kiss, to cuddle, and to hold each other through the night.”

She nodded and he pulled her closer into his arms, just as she leaned against him too, not resisting when she guided them to lie down again. It wasn’t so they could continue to make out, so it was all right. And it felt so good to hold her like this again! His nose was in her hair, drowning him in that subtle scent of mayweed he’d missed so much, and his arm lightly rested around her waist, her warmth against his chest. He wouldn’t have minded spending the rest of the night like this.

“I missed this,” she whispered after a while. “This closeness, feeling you, and…”

She trailed off, squirming a little in his embrace. It made her rub against him in an incredibly enticing way, and with a small grunt, his hold around her waist tightened, keeping her still. Gods, he wanted…

He could feel how she actively restrained herself, almost trembling beneath his hands with the effort of keeping herself from moving further. “I’m sorry,” she chuckled, embarrassed. “I just… well, I’d hope we… that…” She broke off, biting her lip. Then she sighed. “But it’s... it’s okay. I understand. I think. And it’s only a few more weeks.” She turned her head to look up at him, smiling. “I can wait that long.”

Hiccup’s breath caught in his throat. Lying beneath him with that smile on her face, strands of her golden hair all around her on the pillow, illuminated only by the flickering light of the lantern, and with soft understanding glowing in her eyes… Gods, she was so beautiful, inside and out, irresistible. Almost.

“I’m sorry, too,” he murmured. “For disappointing you and–”

“Hush!” Astrid placed her hand over his lips. “You didn’t. It’s fine.”

Sighing, he closed his eyes and kissed her fingers, softly. It made her giggle, and when she pulled them back again after a minute, he opened his eyes again to look at her. “I love you, Astrid. And… and I promise to make it up to you.” He hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath, but then brought his mouth to her ear, his hand caressing her neck. “Every night, I’ll make it up to you, I swear…”

Astrid’s breath hitched, and for a heartbeat, Hiccup considered stretching his own rules a little, just once. Just letting his hand glide down her barely covered body, playing with her breasts and toying with her clit, just lazily getting her off while stealing the breath from her lungs with his kisses, just this one time. And he almost did it. When she turned her head and her lips found his again, there was a moment when his resolve crumbled and nearly failed him. She clearly wanted, how could he resist her?

But then he remembered the armoury again, the pain in her eyes as he’d left her standing – and pulled away.

“Mmh, I can’t wait,” Astrid hummed, her eyes dazed and dreamy as she looked up at him, panting.

Hiccup resisted the urge to watch her chest rise and fall and instead lay down next to her again, eyes firmly on her face. She didn’t need to know how close he’d been to giving in, how much he wanted to give in.

They made themselves more comfortable and for a long while just cuddled and enjoyed each other’s company before Astrid broke the silence again. “Can I ask you something?”

Hiccup frowned. “Of course. Whatever you want.” Hadn’t she just said herself that she could ask him everything? What made her think she couldn’t ask now?

Nodding, she turned around and eyed him somewhat curiously. “It’s… well, you mentioned a few times now that you had another vision. And I was wondering what it was about. I mean, you don’t have to tell me. I had none, so this one clearly was only for you. I’m curious though and thought, maybe, you could tell me about it? Only if you think it’s okay and want to…”

Understanding sparked in his mind and his features softened. “Sure. I don’t feel like it was meant to be a secret.” He shifted into a sitting position that made it easier to talk which Astrid mimicked, leaning against his side. “I was back at that small house we both saw, in the middle of a forest,” he began, trying to remember as many details as possible. “At first, I thought it was just the same vision again, then I noticed the differences. The door wouldn’t open to reveal you, and…”

. o O o .

Over the course of about half an hour, he told her of the dream-vision the Goddess had sent him, about how he’d needed Astrid's key to open the door, the Goddess wearing her face, and what she’d said to him. He told her everything he could remember and once he’d finished, Astrid was silent for a minute or two, processing what he'd told her.

"How did you know it wasn't just an ordinary dream?" she eventually asked.

Hiccup shrugged. "I didn't," he admitted. "Not right away. I spent the entire night and most of the following day pondering. I’d been so convinced that… that there was no hope left for us. But the night before, I’d talked to Cami and she’d said something that made me hope again, even as that wasn’t how she’d meant it. She’d said that, if we really were connected by a true soulbond, then not even the meddling of a King could separate us. She’d tried to convince me that our bond couldn’t be real because you would marry Eret, that I should let you go and move on... But I couldn’t shake off the thought that it also could mean something else, that nothing can ever separate us, not even your father. Because no matter what she said, I knew that our bond had been real. Is real.” He let his hand drop to her chest, and for once it was easy to ignore how close he was to touching her in a way he mustn’t do. Their bond was more meaningful than any physical aspects of their relationship.

“When I had that dream then…,” he went on. “You’re right, I couldn’t be sure whether it had been only a dream or not, and I spent the rest of the night and most of the following day thinking about it. What it could mean, whether I really was supposed to kill someone or whether that’s just been some imaginary task born from my desperation. I just couldn’t be sure, not… not until your accident and Markor…”

Astrid froze at his words, and he winced when she inhaled sharply, understanding what he was talking about.

“I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sure what exactly he was apologising for, ending Markor’s life or bringing up his death in the first place. Both in a way. She hadn’t brought that topic up so far, but he could imagine how much losing Markor must have hurt her. And Hiccup literally had his blood on his hands, the image of red sticking to his skin etched forever into his mind.

She nodded, shifting closer and eagerly leaned against him when he hesitantly opened his arms and offered a comforting hug. “It’s okay,” she mumbled after a while. “Not that he’s… but I’m okay. You couldn’t have changed anything of what happened and… What I mean is… I don’t blame you, you know? On the contrary, I’ll never forget him and I have you to thank for that.”

She nodded to the side of the bed and Hiccup spotted the wooden horse he’d given her as a Midwinter gift standing on her bedside table. He wasn’t sure how to react, whether to be sad or happy that this gift, that had only ended up in her belongings by chance, now served such an oddly fitting purpose. He’d wanted it to be a reminder of him, but now… It had been him who’d brought Markor into Astrid’s life on that first day at the stables and it had been him who’d taken him away again. Now, this figurine he’d given her was all that was left. Odd how some things fit together sometimes.

“So, until you… until you ended Markor’s suffering, you didn’t know whether what you saw had been real or not?”

Astrid was clearly trying to change the topic and distract herself, so Hiccup complied. “No, I couldn’t be sure. I spent hours pondering whether it had been merely a dream, wishful thinking, or a true vision.” He paused, taking a deep breath, and reached for Astrid’s hand before he went on; though whether to draw strength or offer comfort, he did not know. “I thought about what the Goddess had said… and whether I was capable of killing someone if it meant I could be with you again.”

Her sharp intake of breath didn’t escape him. “And… did you arrive at a conclusion?” she asked, her tone sober, unreadable.

Hiccup gulped, then shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “I mean, I’d do everything for you. But this… I don’t know. Maybe? Depending on the circumstances? I don’t think I could… could simply murder a helpless innocent in cold blood. But…” he paused again, averting his face from her scrutinising eyes. “But now that I know how it feels to lose you… I’d be capable of a lot to keep that from happening again.” He knew that she despised unnecessary deaths, so he wasn’t sure whether that was the answer she’d wanted to hear. But it was the truth nonetheless.

At first, she didn’t respond. After a few endless heartbeats though, she shifted on the bed, leaned closer, and lifted his head with her hand cradling his jaw. “You’ll do what’s right,” she whispered, a sincerity in her eyes that left him breathless. “The Goddess said you’d only have to do what comes naturally to you and I trust your judgement. Everything will be all right.”

Sighing, he closed his eyes and leaned more heavily into her touch, nuzzling against her fingers and softly kissing her palm. “I hope you’re right,” he murmured.

She kept caressing his face, her touch soft as a feather. “I’d go with what the Goddess told you. There’s always hope,” she said lightly, and even though his eyes were still closed he could hear her smile easily enough. “I do wonder what you’re supposed to do for them, though. That bit about them having a purpose in their selection sounded pretty ominous.”

Hiccup nodded, having wondered about that several times already. “I know. But all we can do is wait and see. She didn’t tell me about anything specific I’m supposed to do – except for that ending a life part.” He shrugged, then grimaced. “I mean, maybe it’s just rebuilding Ravenledge and providing a better life for the people living there. That’s going to be enough of a challenge I’d say.”

“Well, you won’t be alone with that task,” Astrid reminded him, leaning forward until her forehead rested against his own. “We can do this, together. No matter how difficult it will be.”

Smiling, his mouth searched hers for a string of light kisses. “Yeah,” he mumbled in-between against her lips. “Together.”

It was a heady thought. The last couple of days still hadn’t been enough to completely wipe away the hopelessness and pain of the two weeks before, and thinking about how they would spend their future and meet every obstacle together from now on – sometimes it still felt like too much to wrap his head around.

“I’ve got to say though,” Astrid interrupted his thoughts, giggling as they lay side by side again. “I’m surprised nothing else happened in that dream-vision of yours.”

“Excuse me?”

She giggled again, a little more teasingly. “Well, you met the Goddess of Love herself! And even though the situation warranted more, you did nothing but talk and cuddle for a bit? Most people would call that a wasted opportunity.”

Snorting, he rolled his eyes. “What was I supposed to do? Should I have kissed her and made out with her? With a Goddess?”

“Why not?” She was still giggling. “She looked like me after all. Nobody could have blamed you, and you said it yourself, you didn’t even know that it wasn’t really me in the beginning. Or that it was more than just a dream to begin with. It would have been perfectly justified.”

Bemused, he shook his head. She couldn’t be serious, could she? Or was there a hint of jealousy behind her amusement, some underlying worries? But no, that wasn’t like her. When he looked at her though, he noticed the teasing gleam in her eyes, the twitching of her lips. Right…

Smiling, he rolled around until he was on his side, propped up on one arm and leaning over her. Astrid looked up at him, eyes so soft despite the mischievous spark and the deep blue almost enough to lose himself in them again.

“You want to know why?” he whispered before he brushed a few strands of hair out of her face and then leaned down to kiss her again. “Because she wasn’t you.”

. o O o .

In many aspects, the night hadn’t been what Astrid had expected and yet she wasn’t disappointed, not really at least. Without a doubt, she missed Hiccup’s hands on her body, his touch on sensitive skin, the heat of intimacy. But somehow, she didn’t mind. The night had passed by in another kind of intimacy, with soft caresses and relatively innocent kisses and with a lightness that she found meant even more to her. They’d talked for hours and about so many things, important and trivial alike, and while it hadn’t been the reconnecting she’d craved, it was the one she’d needed.

When she woke in the morning, she couldn’t keep a broad smile from spreading across her face. Even through her still-closed eyes, she knew that the sun was already rising, but in opposition to their usual routine, there was no need for them to hurriedly wake up and part. There was nothing keeping her from enjoying his arms loosely wrapped around her waist, his low and even breathing in her hair, and the incredibly comfortable heat purring from his body wrapped around her back. There was nothing keeping her from snuggling closer against him, sighing happily as he reflexively pulled her closer.

Nothing except the loud knocking against her door and Ruff’s voice echoing toward them.

“Milady? Are you decent?” There was a short pause, then, “I’m coming in now.”

Astrid rolled her eyes and nestled closer to Hiccup behind her as he stirred awake with a low grunt. She’d talked about this with Ruff the night before and they’d agreed on a few things in advance. Mainly that her maidservant wouldn’t just barge into her bedroom like she usually did to wake her. Sadly, there wouldn’t be anything indecent anytime soon anyway, so it was a little moot, really. Unless Ruff wasn’t alone, then she would say so before opening the door so Hiccup had the chance to hide. But as it was, Ruff was alone when she entered the bedroom, so Astrid couldn’t have cared less. She wasn’t ready yet to leave his warm embrace.

Hiccup, however, jumped awake in an instant. He sat up straight, pulling the blanket up with him, and his face went frighteningly pale as he stared at Ruff before he seemed to remember and relaxed again. Lamenting the warmth, Astrid sat up too and snuggled back against his chest, smiling as he wrapped his arms and the blanket back around her.

Ruff threw them a smirk, raising her eyebrows at the obvious state of them still being fully dressed, but then turned to pull the curtains open. “I’d say ‘Sorry for interrupting you’, but it doesn’t look like I interrupted anything anyway. I knew Tuff was exaggerating. Anyway, time to get up. Your breakfast is waiting for you at your tea table, Astrid. Hiccup, you get yours in the kitchen as usual. Sorry, but there was no way for me to sneak in your portion without raising suspicion.”

Intending to drown Ruff’s babbling out to enjoy her last minutes with Hiccup for the day, Astrid still perked up, frowning at her maidservant’s words.

“What?”

Ruff turned, an insinuating smirk on her face as she rolled her eyes. “I said your breakfast is–”

“No, no, I got that,” Astrid interrupted her, sitting up straighter now even as her mind was whirling in confusion. “But why? Why would I eat here? What about my usual breakfast with the King and the Grand Dukes?”

On so many occasions lately, she’d wished she could simply skip the common meal and eat alone in her rooms, but not today. Today, she had something important to talk about with her father, and not just she. Duke Oswald had to agree to giving County Ravenledge to Hiccup, too, and they needed their and Eret II’s support to rebuild it. Who knew when else she, Eret, and Dagur would get the chance to talk to their fathers? She didn’t want to wait any longer.

She looked up at Hiccup, seeking… she didn’t even know what exactly. Reassurance somehow. But he looked just as confused as she felt. And worried.

“I don’t know, exactly,” Ruff said, shrugging apologetically. “All I know is that there was a change of plan somehow. Today’s hunt got cancelled and instead, your father summoned all of your suitors for an announcement.“

Beneath her hand on his chest, Hiccup trembled. “Oh, no,” he muttered. “That doesn’t sound good,”

Astrid could only agree, but she didn’t want him to fret again. He was already carrying more guilt than was necessary. She shifted until she kneeled in front of him, for once towering over him, and took his face in both her hands. “Don’t worry, okay?” she said with as much conviction as she could muster. “Whatever it is, this doesn’t change anything. Do you hear me? We belong together and nothing will ever change that. Together to the end of the road. Promise.”

Hiccup looked up at her with conflicted eyes, clearly wanting to believe her but unable to fully do so. “I hope you’re right,” he muttered, swallowing, then leaned more heavily into her touch, his forehead resting against hers. “I really do.”

. o O o .

Yes, she didn’t want Hiccup to fret about whatever her father had to announce. However, not fretting about it herself was an entirely different matter. What could be so important that he cancelled all plans for the day?

Struggling to not let her nervousness show, she was standing in the audience room, next to and a little behind her father as they waited for everyone to arrive. As her future husband, Eret was allowed to stand behind her, and now, she understood how hard the previous day must have been for him. Even though the presence of the King certainly kept many from showing their envy and disdain too openly, the looks Eret got for being up here with her were anything but friendly. But even though she wished she could spare him all this, she also was grateful for his presence. It was all that kept her from falling apart.

The last time her father had made an announcement, he’d torn apart all her dreams and plans. He wouldn’t reject her upcoming betrothal to Eret and hand her back to all these leering predators in front of her because of such a stupid rumour, would he? No, certainly not. But she couldn’t help but fear for what he had to say nonetheless.

“Do you know what this is about?” she whispered, her head tilted to the side so only Eret could hear her. Surely his thoughts had gone in a similar direction than hers.

“No idea,” Eret grunted quietly. “Father wouldn’t say anything even though he clearly knows what’s going on. He was excited though, even grinning, so I guess it’s nothing too bad.”

Swallowing, Astrid nodded weakly. At least it wouldn’t be the cancellation of their betrothal. She just hoped that he was right, that it wouldn’t get too bad. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

A few minutes later, everyone seemed to have arrived as two servants closed the doors, and Astrid reached behind her for Eret’s hand. She needed her brother’s support, feeling a little lighter as he squeezed her reassuringly.

“I see everyone’s here now,” her father began, smiling broadly at the crowd. He seemed to be in a good mood. “Good. I have exciting news. Even though it’s still over a week until the betrothal ceremony, my daughter has made her decision already, and while I couldn’t be happier about her choice, I also see how it affects the mood and motivation for the remaining challenges.” There was consenting grumbling all over the room, many men throwing disappointed glances at her and Eret.

“I was already thinking about how to solve this problem,” her father went on, “when a note from Oramond reached me yesterday.”

Puzzled, Astrid cocked her head. Oramond was a city located north of Volantis, about a day’s ride away. She dimly remembered having been there as a child as it was famous for its market, the only one where merchants from the Northern Tribes sold their goods. Or used to sell their goods. Over the last ten years, fewer and fewer merchants had shown up until the city had lost its significance. What message from there could be so important that her father changed his plans?

She didn’t need to wait long for the answer.

“As some of you know, the lands north of Volantis still occasionally suffer from dragon attacks. This year though, there were ten times as many sightings as usual already. Livestock was stolen, and last week, one of Oramond’s storehouses was burned to the ground. And while this development is truly unfortunate, it can also be seen as a blessing in disguise as it gives us an unexpected opportunity.”

The King made a short dramatic pause, looking around into the waiting faces before he continued, his voice a little louder now. “Three decades have passed since we last held a Dragon Hunt. But now, the Gods bless us with this impeccable chance. From today on, all upcoming hunts and tournaments until the betrothal ceremony are cancelled. Instead, everyone gets the chance to prepare themselves for in four days from today, we will all travel to Oramond. From there, the first Dragon Hunt since my father’s reign will be held. It will go on for three days before a winner is determined. My daughter’s hand, while a suitable and traditional prize, is not an option anymore, but I think I’ve found an acceptable alternative. I’m happy to announce that the winner of this Dragon Hunt, the man who brings me the head of a dragon, will not only earn himself a pouch of gold and glory beyond any other, but will also receive the right to call himself the Count of Ravenledge.”

. o O o .

AN: Yeah, so… we all knew it wouldn't be that easy, didn't we?

And to all those people who (repeatedly) asked about when I'd FINALLY include the dragons… are you satisfied now? O:)

I can't say how regularly I'm going to update from now on. When a chapter is done, I'll post it.

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee ;) (Ko-Fi)

Next chapter

#FTLOAP #For The Love Of A Princess #Hiccstrid #hiccstrid fanfiction #httyd fandom #httyd fanfiction #fanfiction #royalty au #hiccstrid royal au #medieval au #Hiccstrid Medieval AU #fluff #romance

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jovialyouthmusic · 5 years

Text

Silver Service

A Royal Romance AU fanfic sequel to Protect and Serve

Bastien and his men try to get to the bottom of the mystery of who leaked the incriminating photographs of the suitors and have a narrow escape

Word Count 3618

A/N Warnings - possible injury and/or character death. If you have any issues or worries about the ending of this chapter, please DM me.

3 An Unpleasant Surprise

While Sophia and Bastien broke their drought, the press was busy. She had assured Liam that the best thing to do was to let them have their day to react, and issue another statement when she had analysed the output and worked out what the best strategy was. It was pointless making knee jerk reactions to potentially wild and sensational headlines. It would look better staying calm and objective.

The whole Palace went on communication lockdown – although it was impossible to stop anything leaking in through social media and TV broadcasts, nothing unauthorised was allowed out and only essential staff were allowed to enter or leave, to minimise any drama at the Palace gates. All outgoing calls were restricted and monitored, and Bastien was to be notified of anything out of the ordinary. A team had been sent out to Lady Adelaide’s manor and she and Lady Madeleine had been told in no uncertain terms not to make any statements. Bastien already had means to monitor any goings on there, and a kitchen porter regularly reported to him on anything unusual. Staff domiciled outside the Palace had already signed non disclosure agreements anyway. That left assorted nobles and their staff, none of whom had any concrete information to give.

It had been self indulgent of him to spend the day with Sophia, but he was certain that Lewis would let him know if anything of note happened. All the same, in the middle of the night he woke and went down to the security suite to check in.

Lewis had left a report on his desk, and he had a coded communication from Fydelia. He read the latter first, and raised his eyebrows at the content. The kitchen porter was an undercover member of the Guard and had logged some suspicious calls, notably one shortly after Madeleine had returned home. He put that aside and read Lewis’s report on the Press reaction, and made notes before making his own assessment of the day’s media reaction. He needed to know what Sophia thought, and made his way back to their suite. They could work just as well from his private study as from the suite.

He went into the kitchenette and prepared some hot chocolate before going into the bedroom to carefully wake Sophia. She sat up sleepily

‘Do I smell hot chocolate? What time is it?’

‘It’s not dawn yet, theá mou. We need to work on our reaction to the press – come, I hope you’re well rested’ Sophia laughed

‘Bas, your ‘slow’ is a normal day for most men. How can you be so ready for work after the day we just had – not to mention you’re still recovering from surgery.’ Bastien gave her a slow smile.

‘This just needs mental energy – I may not be ready to run a marathon or go another round with you, but my mind is as sharp as it normally is. You may remember I took a full report from Lewis only a day or so after the operation.’ Sophia rose and gave him a peck on the cheek

‘You are phenomenal’ she murmured, and got out of bed, putting on the nightdress and some soft thick socks. ‘Am I dressed modestly enough not to distract you?’ she asked impishly

‘Never’ he said ‘But I am focused on the job in hand, and you will be shortly’ Picking up the mugs of hot chocolate, he lead the way to the study. For the next half hour they pored over news reports and headlines. The press had reacted well to the rebuttals over the reputation of the various suitors and issued an apology, and despite Madeleine's effort to make herself out to be blameless, the field had been levelled. The papers and TV were chastened by the King’s protestation as to the innocence of all the suitors and were cautious not to print or broadcast anything unsubstantiated.

What followed was speculation over the provision of an heir – and the retractions had set the tone for how the media treated the story. Only the most reactionary anti monarchy outlets – of which mercifully were few – had been anything less than respectful.

‘Okay’ said Sophia ‘Now what we need to do is make out another statement for the King saying that the issue of the provision of an heir has to remain confidential in order to protect all those involved. We need to find a reason to have all the suitors in one place but under protection so that the Press won’t hound them or work out that Olivia is spending extra time with him. We need to keep that going until she falls pregnant, and give her some time for the pregnancy to be viable – an early announcement would not be a good idea.’

‘That sounds good – we can work out with his Majesty how to keep everyone together. Have you any ideas so far?’

‘Some sort of tour similar to the social season, but concentrating on listening to the views of the common people in each duchy – a series of charity events for a deserving cause in each location would improve public relations, and I’m sure it’s the sort of thing Liam would be happy to support’

‘Sophia, that is an excellent idea, and I propose that we visit some of the minor duchies that didn’t field a suitor – such as Duke Rashad’s Domvallier and Lord Neville’s Commery Isles. I’ve had some interesting information as to the source of the leaking of the photographs but it needs more investigation.’ Sophia yawned

‘I have the feeling our sleep schedule is going to be rather unconventional for the next few days’ she said. ‘I’ll write Liam’s speech and you can check it over and show it to him at breakfast. If he releases it this morning it will be in the afternoon papers – and on TV and the internet immediately. After that we need to brainstorm about the charity tour’

‘It will have to be put to the Council of Nobles, but who can turn down the chance to be seen as a benevolent leader by encouraging local charities?’

Sophia got to work drafting out a speech, and Bastien went back to his office to leave a note for Lewis when he got back to work. The Council of Nobles were sent for to discuss the charity tour, and Bastien mulled over the information he had gleaned from Fydelia.

By the time Liam woke and had breakfast in his suite, Sophia had the speech ready, and he approved it. He didn’t need the Council’s approval to propose the charity tour, but organising it would need a lot of work liaising with the various duchies. Bastien moved on to the matter of the leaked photographs.

‘Some of my men are questioning the reporters who released the photos and tracking them back, but it may take time to get to the source.’ Liam nodded ‘Sir, it seems that Lady Adelaide had something to do with the leaking of the photographs. I presume she was angered by your rejection of her daughter. You of course had a full set of and you still have them, so there must have been at least one more set, or they were copied before you received them. I’m currently trying to discover who had access to the photographs apart from Constantine. I’m afraid Regina is our most likely suspect – the fact that she is related to Adelaide and Madeleine makes that even more likely that she was complicit, so I need your permission to question her.’ Liam frowned.

‘I’d like to question her myself’ he said ‘Informally of course’

‘With respect Sir, I feel that although you may be sensitive and sympathetic toward the Queen Mother, you may not be objective. You are welcome to be present when she’s questioned, of course. Sophia suggested you make your statement as soon as you can get members of the press assembled, then we can turn our attentions to Regina’ The King agreed and his aide Geoffrey made a call to admit a selection of reporters in to the Palace.

Bastien went back to the security suite to talk to Lewis, who was drinking black coffee.

‘So, let’s go over what we know already.’ Lewis said as Bastien took his place at the desk ‘Initially it’s thought that Constantine had only one set of photographs, which were kept in his safe. Only Constantine had the code to the safe, but he may have secreted some sort of reminder or clue to that code somewhere. We believe they were the only set because they were put in an envelope for Liam to open on his death. Regina knew about those photographs and may well have known or guessed the code to the safe without Constantine’s knowledge. We don’t know if they were digital or on film with negatives. We’re still looking into who took the photographs and whether they kept copies even though Constantine stipulated he was to have sole ownership of the images.’ Lewis sighed and sat back and Bastien spoke next.

‘So we need to know who had copies of them, how they got them and who released them to the press. I know for certain that Lady Adelaide had a part in it – she made a phone call to an unknown person who had access to them and gave them over to the press. That may have been Regina, or it may have been someone else.’ Lewis raised his eyebrows at Bastien’s revelation.

‘So it could be Regina and Adelaide aiding Madeleine’s bid to be Queen, or they may just be helping someone with other motives. I’ve sent for Lady Adelaide, and we’ll be questioning both her and Regina. I have a team investigating the press – there must be some sort of trail that will help us discover how the sole set of photographs was copied.’ There was a knock on the door and James entered

‘Sir, Regina is refusing to come to the interrogation suite. She insists that she wants to be interviewed in her quarters’ Bastien frowned.

‘I’m not allowing that – we have total control in our room. James, go to Liam and get him to order Regina to do as we request. Remind him that if she complied in getting the photographs copied or released she could be guilty of treason against him.’ James nodded and left. Bastien sighed. If Regina was going to be difficult, it would be a long day.

------

After Liam’s statement about the Charity tour and Regina’s interrogation Bastien returned to his suite. He had been awake for a long time and had had a snatched sandwich for lunch, and needed to rest. His thigh ached and he found it painful making his way back. Regina had denied tampering with the photographs – she said she hadn’t reproduced them or handled them at all and didn’t have access to the safe. One of the guards had been tasked with sifting through security footage in Constantine’s suite covering the safe where the photographs had been kept. Adelaide would be arriving later, and he needed to regroup before he talked to her.

Sophia was there to greet him. Immediately she saw he was hurting, and offered to draw a bath for him to ease his thigh. He sat in an easy chair and she massaged it for him, trying to hide her concern. He looked tired and she thought he was being thrown back into the thick of Palace intrigue before he was strong enough for it. The massage and bath worked well, and he sat in his reclining chair again, this time to take a power nap. He knew from past experience if he lay flat in bed he would sleep too soundly and be groggy when he woke up. He only needed a half hour nap and he’d be re-energised.

------

Later on, he waited in the interrogation room for Adelaide. She looked a little pale, but tossed her head flirtatiously when she saw him.

‘Why Mr Lykel, if I’d known it was you wanting to talk to me we could have gone somewhere more – private’ she said, reaching across the table toward him. He sat back, showing her that flirting was not going to work.

‘I would rather have done this privately, but for the serious nature of the matter in hand, Lady Adelaide’ he said gravely ‘I have reason to believe that you set in motion a process that was intended to make Lady Madeleine the only credible choice of suitor for King Liam.’ Adelaide pouted

‘What’s wrong with a mother trying to make the most of her daughter’s assets? She’s plainly the best choice for Queen and I’m certain Maddy would allow Liam to have a Cordonian marriage and have his choice of lovers’ she retorted

‘It is most definitely wrong when false accusations are made against other women – accusations that harm their reputation and cause them distress’ Adelaide shrugged and didn’t say anything. ‘You don’t deny making a call that resulted in the release of scurrilous photographs to the Press?’ She sighed

‘It would have blown over once Maddy was Queen. We’re not living in Victorian times, a few saucy headlines won’t permanently ruin their marriage prospects’

‘Nonetheless, the photographs involved were known to be in the possession of the former King, and anyone gaining access to them is a security risk and possibly liaising with those who wish to do harm to the monarchy. We’re looking at possible charges of treason’ Adelaide grew pale.

‘I – I didn’t think it was that serious’ she stuttered.

‘In that case you won’t mind telling me who you contacted so we can find out who got hold of the photographs’ Adelaide wrung her hands together

‘Well the problem is – I’m not really sure’ she pleaded. Bastien clenched his jaw and waited for her to explain. ‘It’s – delicate’ she said, leaning closer and lowering her voice.

‘This interview is being recorded, Lady Adelaide’ he replied ‘Please speak clearly’ She shook her head.

‘No, I’m not having this recorded’ she said ‘I’ll tell you in confidence, Mr Lykel, but I won’t have my private life exposed. Please’ She gazed at him pleadingly. He sighed heavily

‘Will you at least tell me in front of my second in command?’ he asked. She nodded, her face pale. He made a gesture and Lewis turned off the recorder.

‘Very well Adelaide, and this had better be the truth, or you will be charged with treason’ he warned her. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

‘Well, I have a lover – he’s – well he’s dominant. I – I’ve never seen his face, he always wears a mask, and I don’t know his name.’ Bastien remained stony faced, inwardly rolling his eyes. Her sexual escapades were her weakness and had gotten her in to trouble on more than one occasion. She went on, biting her lip ‘He’s said things to me before – about what a good Queen Maddy would make, and that he could make sure that it happened. Maddy came home the other night and told me Liam had called everything off. I was so upset – I called him and told him all about it’ Her eyes reddened and she dabbed at them with a tissue. ‘I didn’t know about the photographs, I had no idea how he was going to make things happen. I’m sorry the others were hurt, truly I am’ Bastien nodded

‘I believe you, but you must give us details of how you contacted your ah, lover.’ he said sternly ‘Do you think you could identify him if you heard his voice – is he Cordonian, do you think, or does he have an accent?’

‘Oh he’s Cordonian, and yes, I think I could identify him by his voice. But please, I do need to be discreet. Gordon may overlook my indiscretions – after all lord knows he has his own – but I don’t want it splashed all over the…’ her voice trailed off as she realised what she had set in motion for the other suitors.

Bastien nodded to Lewis to turn the recording equipment on again

‘Thankyou Lady Adelaide, for the record you’re going to supply us with the contact details we’ve asked for. Your cooperation is appreciated.’

------

Later, after Adelaide had left to go and settle into the suite she would be sharing with Madeleine, Bastien spoke to Lewis. In truth, the phone number she had given them wouldn’t tell them much. They had secured a promise from her that she would notify them the next time she was due to call him – she called at regular intervals – and they would monitor and try to trace the call’s location. They checked in with James, who was checking security footage for anyone who might have tampered with the safe. He looked weary and his eyes were red from sleeplessness, but he had stuck to his task with stoicism.

‘I think I have something’ he said ‘One of the maids made a habit of moving a large vase in front of one of the security cameras when she cleaned Constantine’s study, but she fell foul of one of the other hidden cameras. I can’t directly see exactly what she was doing, but she was in the vicinity of the safe for a suspiciously long period of time on more than one occasion. I just need to double check the time stamps and the duty rosters for the cleaning teams – but I think we have our culprit’

‘Good man’ Bastien said, leaning on the desk to watch the footage James had picked out ‘Who is it?’

‘I’m not entirely sure, but I think it’s a young maid called Lisa’ he said ‘Shall I call her in for questioning? I don’t know if she’s on site but it won’t take long to find out.’

‘We need to verify her identity first’ Bastien chided ‘Cross check with the work schedules. I have an idea Drake is friendly with her, and Sophia also, I’ll call them to ID her.’

It was discovered that indeed it was Lisa who had been seen on the security cameras. Checking other footage, she was seen to take an envelope identical to the one left for Liam out of her bag to check it when leaving the Palace. The next day she had spent another suspicious length of time in Constantine’s study while cleaning it. It was not quite enough to be certain proof, but Bastien had a strong case against her. She wasn’t in the Palace so he asked housekeeping to call her in for an extra shift, saying there were unexpected visitors and she was needed to clean some of the empty suites – which was true, as that afternoon it was expected that the Council of nobles would approve Liam’s plan for the Charity tour and all the suitors would be called on to gather to plan the itinerary and travel together.

------

Sure enough, the young woman turned up on time, and she was watched every step of the way. As she approached the store cupboard to pick up fresh linen, Bastien strolled along the corridor as if by accident.

‘Good afternoon – Lisa, isn’t it?’ he asked her pleasantly as she clutched the list of supplies she needed. ‘Could you step into my office please?’ She looked puzzled.

‘I’m very busy Mr Lykel – can it wait until the end of my shift?’ she asked. He shook his head and stepped forward to take her elbow

‘I’m afraid not, I need to ask you some questions’ A look of panic crossed her face and she tried to pull away from him. He gripped her firmly, and one of his men, Parker, appeared from round the corner to block her should she try to run away.

In the interrogation suite, Lisa dissolved into tears. She had been coerced into breaking into the safe after stumbling across the code in a piece of paper that fell out of a book when she was cleaning. Bastien pressed her as to who had asked her to get the photos, but she clamped her mouth shut and said she was afraid that she’d be killed for telling.

‘Lisa, we will protect you if you tell us who it is’ Bastien assured her ‘This is a serious matter – you could be prosecuted for treason and either serve time in prison, or be exiled permanently. We can be lenient if you help us’ Lisa looked terrified.

‘I – I can’t tell you who it was’ she sniffled ‘I never saw him. He’s a member of the Sons of the Earth. I have a phone number, that’s all’

‘But Lisa, why did you do it?’ he asked ‘When you were interviewed you swore you’d serve the Crown – and you also signed a non disclosure agreement. You’re in a lot of trouble, my dear’

‘I – I’m sorry, here have my phone, the number’s there, under ‘Boris’ She held it out, but Bastien sat with his arms crossed.

‘Write it down for me’ he said

‘But – if you call him from another number he’ll know it’s not me’ she protested

‘I wouldn’t worry about that, Lisa’ he said flatly ‘We have our ways’ She took her phone back and Bastien started to reach for paper and pen, but as he did, Bastien spotted something that made his blood run cold – a button inset in the side, something that didn’t belong on that model of phone. He shouted out a warning to Parker to get down as he threw himself onto the floor under the metal table. Lisa pressed the button and a loud explosion rocked the tiny room…

Next chapter 4 Two’s Company, Three’s more fun

#protect and serve #silver service #bastien lykel #trr bastien #sophia x bastien #OC x Bastien #the royal romance au #royal romance fanfic

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taki118 · 4 years

Text

Different Paths (A DA2 Personal Challenge) Merrill & Anders

Reposting some of my favorite ficlets from this on going writing challenge of my own making read the rest here this one has a bit of a tw for implied sducidal thoughts.

Maybe it was nostalgia that made Merrill come this way, a rumor leading her to a run down path, why she could hear Varric’s raspy voice complaining if she closed her eyes. Or perhaps she was being childish, being what was essentially a keeper to her group of elevan followers was more taxing than she’d anticipated and indulging in such childish curiosity was a rarity. Whatever the reason that lead her down the old path Merrill could hardly say mattered much when she saw him there.

The rumors said a ghost had taken residence deep in the woods, that it glowed an unnatural color and was fierce in protecting the forest. But such a thing was not what Merrill found.

“Anders?” She called carefully. Were it not for the ripple of that blue magic swirling his form she’d hardly recognize him. Even from so far away she could see he was thin, alarmingly so, his hair a tangled long mess, and those black feathers she’d once admired looked as though they’d molted, dirt and blood clearly visible on the black fabric. One thing was certain as she approached he was not well.

“LEAVE!” The magic forced her back, were she not a mage Merrill would never have withstood it. This force would surely frighten anyone away but she knew this magic well.

“Hello Justice.” She spoke calmly to the spirit. Though at a glance he might have looked fearsome merrill could see whatever had befallen Anders was effecting him too.

“LEAVE WITCH!” The spirit roared but that seemed all he could manage now. His breathing ragged and legs shaking so much merrill was sure he would not be able to stand were it not for the staff.

“You are unwell.” She replied calmly walking ever closer, from here she could see the glimmer of healing magic under Justice’s aura. Anders was injured in some way, a way magic could not heal. Her green eyes searched for the source, only then noting how much he was sweating. “I can help.”

“I DO NOT NEED YOUR MAGIC.” Justice tried in vain to force her back once more but faltered losing his footing. Grasping the staff tighter his breathing growing more ragged, just how long had they been this way?

“No magic can fix this.” But it seemed Anders had known this at least at first. Around the small camp the elf saw many potions and ingredients to treat the illness, but none looked right as though the mage was making due with what he had. “You are ill I have supplies at my camp that can help you I just need to...”

“LEAVE...” Justice sounded so weak, it crushed her heart a little. The spirit was so strong before seeing them like this....

“Please Justice just let me help.” Merrill pleaded softly standing so close she could touch him if she dared. “If this keeps up you’ll be nothing but a walking corpse!”

“GO!” For a moment the elf wondered why she was trying so hard? It wasn’t as though they’d been particularly close in Kirkwall and even if he were aware Anders would never accept her help. Or anyone’s. In fact it seemed as though....

“He wants this, doesn’t he Justice?” The spirit stilled and Merrill had her answer. This was just like after the Chantry seeking retribution for his actions. Merrill wondered why he felt this way, if it was for the same act or something new? Maybe he thought it a poetic end.

His body flinched as she palmed his forehead, it was so hot and clammy she was shocked anders was even alive.

“Please let me help him.” She spoke softly her fingers lightly brushing his loose hair back. “There’s so much good he could still do... No, that he needs to do.” Once the words left her the glow faded and a small smile appeared on her face. “Thank you, I’ll get Anders help.”

As Merrill made her way back to her clan to help bring anders someplace safe to rest she realized what had brought her out here and why she was trying so hard. She’d been lonely. Lonely for a long while.

——————

Merrill hadn’t told her clan members who anders was only that he was a man in need of help. And that was very true. It looked like every second was painful to him. At the very least he had no wounds to make it worse. But he was far skinnier than she’d expected.

As she worked on his medicine anders stirred. He wasn’t awake per-say, he was too weak for that, but he muttered some words. Not coherent enough for it to mean anything to Merrill but his expression told her he was afraid.

“Rest.” She cooed, gently rubbing the balm she’d mixed over his forehead. “All will be well.” Slowly his brow relaxed “See feeling better already.” The elf smiled gently it was so odd being the one to care for a healer. An odd luxury she knew as he’d never allow it were he conscious.

——————

Anders awoke slowly feeling oddly good. The serenity of waking however was quickly replaced with fear. This wasn’t the woods, it was a tent, how did he get here? Did Justice... his head hurt too much to concentrate. All the man knew was that he needed his staff and he had to leave.

He tried to get up off the small cot but found his limbs to weak from atrophy and over use of magic. Justice had warned him of this and now he wished he’d listened. The sickness itself wasn’t helping matters.

As he tried to move Anders was vaguely aware of sounds from outside the tent. People a good lot of them going about their business. He had no idea how he might make an escape with so many walking about so he stopped trying to move allowing himself to rest.

If he was to die so be it, that was the plan anyway.

“Oh good you’re up.” The familiar chipper voice of Merrill called. Anders had not expected to see that she was the one who moved him.

“Merrill how did..” He asked before doubling over in pain as he tried to sit up.

“Oh no! here let me help.” Placing her bowls down she carefully helped him sit up, glad he was conscious. “You’re still ill not to mention all that magic you used, it’ll be a bit before you’re body can support you again.”

Merrill looked older Anders noted to himself as she went to retrieve a bowl, it was something in her eyes mostly rather than her face that still seemed youthful. But there was a tiredness to her, more cautious less excitable.

“Here try to eat something.” She offered with a spoonful raised and ready for him to eat. Anders hadn’t seen real food in what felt like years and the porridge she offered smelt wonderful, but...

“I can feed myself.” His reply was met with a soft chuckle.

“You’re shaking hands say different.” Merrill was right and she knew it, still it felt a little odd for Anders he wasn’t a child. “Cmon now I can’t give you more medicine on an empty stomach. And feeding you asleep was no good.” Carefully she blew on the food as Anders chuckled in dismay at the idea.

“Are you serious? Why would you..” Was all he could get out as the spoon was shoved in his mouth.

“There not so bad right?” She had a smug look on her face and while he normally would have retorted that what she’d done was dangerous all he could say was,

“That’s really good.” Gladly opening his mouth for another spoonful, given more gently this time.

“It’s mushroom porridge, Karah’s specialty.” She giggle enjoying this act of feeding someone else.

“How have I never had it before?” Another eager mouthful and another sweet giggle.

“It’s a Daelish dish that’s why.”

“Then we Shems are missing out.” They both laughed at that, while she scooped more.

“I’m glad. That you can still laugh.” If she took away the tent and the longer hair and the obvious lack of eating Merrill could almost pretend they were back in Kirkwall. “I was worried when I found you like that....”

A person with more tact might have told Merrill ‘thank you’ or reassured her worry. But then Anders was never very tactful.

“How did you get me out of there?” Was what Anders asked with a bitter tang of suspicion. One so obvious even Merrill picked up on it.

“Well I didn’t use blood magic if that’s what you’re inferring.” One thing she never wanted to relive was Anders constant nagging on the subject why he was worse than the keeper. “I just had a talk with Justice then got some help carrying you is all.” Her matter of fact tone struck him for a moment.

“What do you mean you had a talk?” Justice wasn’t the sort to be reasonable on the best days. But Merrill wanted the subject changed and shushed him with the porridge.

“Come now it’ll get cold and I’d like to eat my share as well.” Anders found he had to relent there for good manners if nothing else. He was alive and recovering due to her charity even if he’d have rather...

“They dont know who you are.” she spoke up once he finished eating getting her own bowl.

“What?”

“My clan.” She explained between mouthfuls. “They just think you’re a human I know.”

For a moment he considered what she just told him, lying to the clan that he was sure she was running wasn’t that....

“Alright then, time to get to work.” She announced abruptly taking the empty bowls as she moved.

“Um Merrill about your clan...”

“Oh yes isn’t it great!” She exclaimed with a glee she hadn’t shown since Kirkwall. “I never thought I’d be with a clan again let alone be the keeper of one. I’ll introduce you to everyone once you can walk again.”

Anders panicked a little at that promise causing him to feel dizzy for a moment. His body steady at the feeling of Merrill’s small hands over his, a small vile placed inside.

“Do you think you can manage to drink this?” She asked gently, worry clear in her eyes. Carefully he nodded, he’d already imposed enough on her. “Good. Drink amnd get some rest.”

After doing as she bid Anders fell into a deep restful sleep, waking up hours later once more to the smell of food. A comfort he hadn’t known for a long time.

“Merrill there’s something I have to ask....” Anders interrupted the meal with some reservations.

“Don’t worry I was the one who changed them.” Merrill reacted quickly enjoying her food.

“What?”

“Your clothes. I was the one who changed them so don’t worry.”

“That’s not what I... Wait you what!?!?”

Anders had been too tired to notice before but sure as day his old worn clothes had been replaced with a loose pair of slightly short linen clothes. His cheeks turned red at the realization then that his underclothes were as well missing.

“Oh don’t be so embarrassed you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.” Yet even as she said this a hint of red could be seen on her cheeks. “Though I must admit it was a bit....different from what I expected...”

“WHAT?!” His head raced trying to understand why she even had expectations about his, neither regions.

“Oh well you know from the way Isabela use to describe it.” She giggled at the memory while Anders frowned. Isabela was hardly accurate in her story telling and while a part of him wanted Merrill to clarify what she meant another did not want to know.

“You are aware Isabela only saw it once right?” He grumbled taking a large bite of the cooked fish she offered him, glad to have control of his hands once more. Still Merrill only giggled to herself.

“I miss her you know, she sends letters but... it’s not the same.” She sighed looking off from her seated place beside him. “I’ve been missing a lot of things lately...”

Silently Anders had to agree there was, after all, a time back then when he was actually happy in Kirkwall. A hazy warm glow of comfort that no one could take from him, not even himself.

“Oh but you wanted to ask me something.” Merrill chirped once finished moving to a chest at the other side of the tent to remove her bulkier armaments.

“Yes I just....” For once Anders wanted to think of his words carefully looking down to poke at his food in thought. “Look I’m grateful for everything you’ve done but...why did you do it?”

“You needed help so I helped you.” Was her simple response as it was a simple question.

“Can’t you see you’re putting your clan in danger?” He shouted maybe a little louder than he had intended, but couldn’t she see how foolish she was being? Then again to Anders Merrill seemed to regard he choices far too simply.

“I’m not about to have you lecture me on what is and isn’t dangerous.” Her voice never raised but there was an edge to it that told Anders to drop whatever point he was thinking of making. In an odd way it reminded him of Aveline. With an almost maternal sort of care Merrill took the plate Anders and long since ignored.

“If however you feel indebted then there is something I wanted to ask of you once you’re well.” She spoke in her normal tone. An olive branch that Anders nodded to take. “There’s a young girl here with us, a mage.”

“You’re more than capable of teaching her.” He spoke up for all his taunting he knew Merrill to be an excellent mage. But she softly shook her head.

“Not for what she wants to learn. Her mother was a healer and she wishes to follow in her footsteps.” And then Anders understood. “I never really had a knack for it, I’ve taught her the basics but....what she wants to learn i can’t teach her.”

“But I could.” With a soft smile she nodded. This wasn’t the reason she’d helped him but she’d never turn it down.

“The clan would benefit greatly if you taught her your skill.” She’d always been impressed by his healing magic, he made it look so easy.

“Would a daelish really want to learn from a Shem though?”

“Oh that’s not a problem, she isn’t dalish.”

“What?”

“You’ll see when you meet her, but for now sleep.”

While Anders wanted to know what exactly merrill meant but that the question was dropped as the elf crawled onto the other side of the cote.

“Is this where you’ve been sleeping?” He had wondered that briefly before as there was only one in the tent.

“Where else would I sleep?” She replied with a yawn settling in as she’d done the nights before. As her head rested though she felt his body move. “What are you doing?”

“I....well I just thought...” it felt wrong taking so much from her.

“It’s not a problem Anders besides...” her hand reached out tugging him back in place. “It gets cold at night.”

With that he relented lying down with ease beside her. As he began to relax he felt a pair of hands on his back. Gentle and warm.

“Merrill...”

“I joked earlier but.....” she moved her hands in soothing circles that mirrored her voice. “The scars, they’re very old aren’t they?”

“....yes” there were a million things he could say, that he wanted to say but they all failed in comparison to her gentle care.

“I’m sorry.” At that Anders let out a bitter little laugh.

“Oh did a blood mage make those? Could’ve sworn a Templar did.” But Merrill didn’t take his bait only snuck her arms around him in a loose embrace.

“Someone ought to apologize.”

He didn’t fight her after that, she was right it got cold at night.

—————————————

To say Anders was confused by the sight of Merrill’s clan once he finally made a recovery was an understatement. He viewed them as they went about their day curiously, not that that was the odd part. Amongst those clearly elvan dalish or otherwise there were humans and quite a few half elves or those with elvan blood. He’d seen dalish clans take in those of their blood but humans? Never.

Merrill found herself rather amused at his surprise, after Kirkwall she doubted she could ever live among only the dalish again.

After helping the elves of Kirkwall many chose to stay with her some out of respect others out of a desire to understand the old ways. It grew slowly over the years, dalish like herself frustrated with the rules came to join and humans who found themselves the lover of an elf sought her to take part for them. There were even some humans with a genuine interest in the old ways and living simply that were welcomed.

“I suppose it’s a clan of odds and ends that just don’t fit anywhere else.” She explained and Anders thought it suited her well.

She introduced him to the girl that would be his student, a young half elf. The girl was quick to study and eager to learn the task Merrill had given him hardly a challenge.

Months passed as he taught the girl not that they were ever at a loss for practice. The clan was by no means small and there was always someone with a problem to attend to. Not to mention word slipping out of a new healer in the woods. And that’s all he was here a human healer.

Anders days were spent in anonymity, teaching those you wanted to listen and assisting where he could. It was in these days he saw the troubles of the elvan, troubles he chose to ignore when Merrill had told him back in Kirkwall. It shamed him a little his past self, he wondered if it was Justices tendencies for fixation or his own.

Merrill enjoyed watching Anders go about his day, he looked well and truly alive. But if she were honest she was truly grateful for the nights. It was nice to speak so casually with someone, to complain and whine without worry. Sometimes it shocked her how much the little things piled up. As nice as it was though she rather expected this conversation to come.

“Merrill I heard your idea about moving the clan....”

“Can I braid your hair!” She blurted out quickly causing great confusion to him.

“What?”

“It’s just it’s soooooo pretty and I’ve wanted to ask you since back in Kirkwall

I just could never figure out a good way to do it. So I figured why not just ask.” Before she’d lose the chance to.

“I um I suppose that’s alright.” He shrugged he never thought his hair all that special but the glee in her eyes told him otherwise.

“Oh thank you! You won’t regret it.”

Quickly she got her supplies before settling herself behind him all the while Anders laughed softly at her. A kind good natured laugh he’d almost forgotten he could make and she rather enjoy coaxing out.

Merrill was slow in her work and careful, her comb and fingers gentle as they worked the knots out from the day. Anders couldn’t help but sigh contently at the treatment.

“It occurs to me that this is the first time someone has combed and braided my hair for me.” He confessed, when he was a boy it was much too short for his mother to have done as such. If he remembered right.

“That’s so sad..” she replied gently parting the hair as she made her way.

“Is it?” He’d never really thought of it before but...

“If you like I could do it for you once a week.” It was a kind offer, not meant as true temptation but it was one all the same. Merrill was not very good at hiding her intent.

“Merrill...” He signed out. “You are aware I’m nearly done teaching Karel.” It wasn’t a question it was a statement, they both knew she was very aware.

“Oh! Well that’s good.” She avoided his insinuation easily pretending to be focused solely on her task.

“And I heard about your suggestion to use a nearby deep roads for travel.” She tugged a good deal tighter in her work then. “Hey! Not my fault you’re bad at being sneaky.” That only earned him another harsh tug at his hair and silence. “Honestly What were you planning to do after that?” To that merrill finally replied.

“I hadn’t planned that far ahead.” She confessed.

Anders had a dozen different questions or accusations for the elf that continued to fuss with his hair. But one ate him more than any other and had for some time.

“Why do you always do this?” He let out causing her to stop in confusion.

“Braid your hair?” He snorted at that.

“No. Not braid my bloody hair. This! This...” he tried desperately to vocalize what exactly it was. “Helping me, protecting me, acting like I’m something....like I’m something worth saving....when I’m not.”

The tent grew quiet then save for the noise outside. Neither moved or spoke at his words. Even Merrill was at a loss for what he’d confessed to feeling. Of course she’d thought this the case but never that he’d say it. Carefully she set back to her work weaving a simple braid around his temples.

“Because you are.” She said softly and earnestly, only for him to scoff.

“No I’m not, everyone knows it. Even Hawke...” he could still remember that day so clearly the look in her eyes still haunted him.

“Hawke was just hurt,” She corrected him weaving the two braids together at the middle.

“I would have died that day if not for you.” His tone was filled with resentment at that. “I saw it in her eyes if you hadn’t spoken out for me...”

“She would have regretted it.” She tried to ignore what his tone meant, tying off the end of the braid. “Hawke misses you so does Varric and if you would just...”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why did you speak for me then?” He turned to look at her confused face. “I’ve wondered that for years. We were never close, I undermined you at every turn, we’re the positions reversed I’d have told Hawke to kill you.”

There was no surprise on her face at his words Merrill had always know this to be true. The look of sympathy for him in her eyes though, that had him unable to look at her pacing about the tent to try and focus on anything else.

“I just...it would be better for everyone if..”

“If what? If your perished and Justice walked about in your corpse?” It was the first time she snapped back at him Anders wasn’t sure what surprised him more. Her tone or that she knew what he was thinking.

“Yes it would.”

“Well I disagree.”

“Why?” He growled back not wanting to shout and wake everyone.

After a moment of thought she answered. “I suppose it’s because you’re a lot like the Eluvean.”

“Well that stings.” He laughed bitterly kicking the dirt underfoot. “But accurate, a cursed thing of magic that should be left to rot....” she frowned at him.

“That’s not what I meant.” Merrill replied sternly.

She closed the distance between them quickly. Long delicate fingers hooking under his jaw to force him to look in her eyes as she spoke. For she refused to let him sully her words in self depreciation.

“You are a lovely broken thing Anders, and there’s still good you can do in this world.” Her words were sure and strong, and so very gentle as her thumbs made soothing circles on his cheeks. “I see it, Justice sees it, he’d have never let me help otherwise. It pains me so that you can’t see it.”

He was in awe of her words and sighed in defeat, his own hands covering hers.

“This coming from the elf who saw her own life worth less than a mirror?” He tried to joke.

“Well I suppose we both have trouble seeing our own values.” She replied with a soft laugh, enjoying the feel of his hands.

“Even if I stay Merrill....it wouldn’t be for long. The taint will catch up with me if nothing else....” he couldn’t say if he was trying to scare her off or convince himself to leave but she only smiled.

“Then it’s a good thing you have a blood mage sleeping by your side.”

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #da2 #da merrill #da anders #merrill and anders #da fanfic #fanfiction

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postmortem-bookworm · 5 years

Text

Bright - Bucky Barnes - Part Three

Fandom: Avengers

Type: Series

Word Count: 2,044

Character(s): Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, Shuri, T'Challa

Warning(s): Cussing, Mentions of attempted suicide (but shouldn’t be anything triggering), smut (maybe), mentions of X-Men, Steve is crushing

A/N: This picks up almost right after Black Panther, but before Bucky is awake, there is no Thanos, and everyone is alive.

Two weeks after Bucky's settled in as her neighbor, something changes in her. Her days go from being busy with painting, gardening, assisting Bucky with whatever he needs, and spending time with Shuri and her family, to slower, lounging in the bed, restlessly sleeping in, or waking throughout the night with terror pulsing in her veins, and sweat sickeningly coating her skin with ice. If Bucky notices the raw skin from her 3 am scrubs, or her blood shot eyes from crying throughout the night, he's nice enough not to mention it. He merely seems to make sure that she's more occupied than normal, which she comes to be frustrated at, seeing as she was the one who was asked to look over him, not the reverse.

It gets worse the night that Bucky comes charging into her hut at her blood curdling screams, the room shaking, finding her floating above her bed, her nose is practically brushing the ceiling as she thrashes, clawing at her skin with blunt nails, screaming for Logan and Storm, begging for help. "Shh, Maeve." He hushes her as he pulls her back down to the sheets, carefully dodging her flying fists as he tucks her back into the sheets, and leans beside her on the bed to shake her awake.

"Mm." She slowly blinks her eyes open, frowning as she looks up to see him above her. "B-Bucky?" She asks in confusion, before her eyes snap open as she sits straight up in panic, looking around her as he eyes land on him. "Oh no. Oh no!" She cries as she crosses her arms over her knees, resting her forehead against them.

"It's alright." He promises, rubbing her shoulder as he moves from the floor to sit on the edge of the bed. "It's not your fault." His tone is soft and understanding, but she just feels worse as she clutches her knees closer to her chest. "Hey," He grabs her shoulder, causing her to look over at him. "this is not your fault. I've had my fair share of night terrors." She guilty nods as she swallows against the lump in her throat, feeling the insides of her wrists, where the scars, that she never remembered getting, are currently scored deeply into her skin. "Do you want to talk about it?" She shakes her head, before pausing as she looks at him, then nods her head instead, causing him to smile softly as he nods, shifting closer to her.

"When I was studying in the special school for my powers, I was battling this rival anti-humans mutant league group." She casts a glance at Bucky, who nods to show he's following along. "They were insistent that mutants are superior, and deserve a place high above humanity, to rule over them." Another glance to make sure he's following along. "Magneto was their leader, and he discovered just how strong my abilities were, and he sent his strongest minions to capture me. I was essentially like you, a POW." He frowns at that, glancing over her with a sad look in his eyes. "There are bits and pieces that I remember, because another mutant, the headmaster of the school, put mental stints in my head to block my memories." She pauses, shivering as the memories and thoughts race through her mind, and Bucky rubs her shoulder again with his warm, large hand.

"It's alright." He promises, causing her to swallow thickly as she nods, focusing on nothing before her.

"The stints were taken out over time, but he forgot a few. Now they're basically breaking open from the memories pushing on them, wanting to come out, and so they're all rushing out at once." He hums to show he's following as she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. "Professor Xavier, the school's headmaster, explained that I was about as lifeless as a corpse when the found me. The torture they inflected upon me, the power Magneto flaunted, made me crack and break and shatter in every way possible." She runs her fingers up and down the scars on her forearms. "I have one memory, when they took me back to the school. They left me alone in the infirmary to talk outside the door, and I grabbed a scalpel and just started digging it into my wrists and arms... By the time they had realized it, Storm was afraid I wouldn't make it."

"Maeve..." His tone is sorrowful, and she sniffles as she reaches up to wipe her tears from her cheeks, shaking her head.

"I-" Her voice cracks, causing her to wince as she sniffles, and gives a rueful smile. "I wanted to die- I needed to die, after what I had done." She whispers, voice hoarse as he frowns. Drawing her knees to her chest, she grips her hair at the roots, elbows digging into her knees as she fists her curls. "I remember the torture, th-the methods they used to make me do their bidding. I killed people, I killed my people! Not just humans." She slams her head into her palms, as if the self-flagellation would drive the memories from her head.

"Hey! Hey!" Bucky quickly grabs her hands, holding them away from her by her wrists, with one hand, while the other pets her hair from her sweaty face as she heaves for air. "This isn't the first time you've had nightmares, is it?" He asks once she's started to calm down.

"No." She grinds out between short breathes, struggling against his grip on her hands, the memories of the deaths she committed as playing before her eyes.

"No no no." He pets her hair again, soothing her as she sniffles, feeling a mess of herself as she sobs into his chest. His hand moves from her tangled hair, to her shoulder, thumb rubbing circles into her shoulder. "It's ok," He murmurs. "I've been through this before, only it was me in your place." He pets her hair again, and the two of them sit on the bad as she sobs. "You weren't in charge of your actions, when you did those things, Maeve. They were the actions of the ones that controlled you." He whispers.

"But I still see them, every time I close my eyes." She whispers, causing Bucky to nod as he holds her. "The blood. The screams. I can't handle it anymore!" She tries to tug her hands free again, but his hold is as firm as the metal his hand is made from.

"You can't believe it is your fault," He says as she sniffles. "you were manipulated and tortured, they used your pain to make you listen to them. They used it to control you." He slowly let's go of her wrists as she stops fighting against his hold. "The only thing you're responsible for, is forgiving yourself." He completely releases her wrists, moving his arm from her shoulder to her waist, and moving his other hand to caress her hair. "Listen, it's been a long night, why don't you get some sleep, and we'll go see Shuri tomorrow and see if she can be of any help with your memories." He offers as she nods, rubbing her teary eyes, and he pets her hand, moving to stand as she looks up at him.

"Thank you for your help, Bucky." Her voice is weak, causing him to look down at her softly.

"It's alright." He pauses to kneel down before her, taking her hands in his to look up into her eyes. "It'll be alright, Maeve. I promise to be here for you, I made a promise."

"Y-You made a promise?" Her question causes him to chuckle. "To who?" He gives her a toothy grin.

"The punk made me promise." He pats her head, before he stands up. "Steve mentioned that he and Natasha will be here tomorrow afternoon, so you get some sleep." He pats her head again, walking out of the hut with the door shut behind her, and she takes a few large, deep breaths before curling up under the blanket, falling asleep.

Shuri is walking down towards the landing pad with Maeve, the two of them had just been talking about starting therapy for Maeve, and finding a good match for her. The Quinjet has already landed by the time the two of them reach the outside door hanger, Bucky is lingering by the Quinjet as the door opens, and Steve and Natasha climb down the ramp. Shuri smiles as the two of them exit the castle, the soldier that was chatting with Bucky, looks up to smile as Maeve walks down the steps towards the landing pad. Steve pats Bucky on the back, before he jogs towards Maeve, sweeping her up in a hug as soon as she's in reach to greet him, her hands resting on his shoulder. "Steve!" She lets out a laugh, her chest feels light from Steve's strong emotions.

"Ah, doll, I missed you!" He says with a large grin on his face, before he leans in to kiss her cheek. Her cheeks start to burn as she taps his shoulder, letting her down as he sighs sadly.

"I'm glad to see you again." She grins as she reaches up to rub his cheek. "You let that scruff grow, I see." She teases as he reaches up to cover her hand with with own, grinning down at her.

"I decided to give it a try." He jokes, smiling down at her. Bucky is watching Steve and Maeve from afar, his eyes carefully scrutinizing how the two of them are interacting. Natasha is chatting with Shuri off to the right of him, but he's not hearing anything that's being said as he watches Steve's face morph and change while talking to Maeve, a smile crawling across his own.

"Well, I'll be damned." He chuckles to himself as the two of them walk over, and Maeve gives a slight skip as she runs over, a small squeal escaping her, as she goes right past him with her arms spread. Right into Natasha's arms as the ex-assassin laughs, hugging her back.

"I missed ya, Sis!" Maeve laughs, spinning around with Natasha, who hugs her close.

"I missed you too, sis." Natasha smiles brightly as she tugs Maeve over to the nearby bench, and the two of them sit and talk about everything that's happened since they've parted, while Bucky walks over to his best friend.

"Hey, Punk." Bucky says, nudging Steve in the arm, who looks at him for the first time, drawing his gaze from the burgundy haired young woman.

"Hey Buck." Steve says, looking back at the two women chattering together as Bucky smirks.

"You seem to have your eye on someone over there." Steve glances at him as he tucks his hands into his pockets. "Is that the reason why you asked me to watch out for her?" Bucky inquires as Steve's cheeks turn ruddy, and he looks down, toeing the platform. "Haven't seen you into a dame since Sharon Carter."

"Sharon and I weren't that serious." Steve huffs, causing Bucky to laugh.

"Yeah, because you already had eyes for Maeve." Bucky points out, causing Steve to look sheepish.

"That noticable?" He asks, causing Bucky to nod. "I guess I should dial it back, huh?" Bucky let's out a snort as the girls walk over together, laughing and smiling together.

"Don't forget, Maeve is an Empath." He points out, causing Steve to groan as he rubs his cheek. "You forgot." The girls stop before them.

"Steve forgot what?" Maeve asks with a bright smile on her face, causing Bucky to start laughing.

"His mind!" Bucky crows, causing her to laugh as Steve slaps him in the arm, while Natasha shakes her head.

"That was lost in the 1940s." Natasha jokes as she hugs Maeve around the shoulders.

"Maybe Maeve can help you get it back, Punk." Bucky teases as Steve elbows his best friend in the sternum.

"Well, Nat and I are going to have a day out. Want to come along, boys?" Maeve offers causing Steve to smile brightly, his eyes brightening as well. Bucky finds himself smiling despite himself, happy at his friend's happiness.

"Sure."

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #bucky barnes x reader wakanda #james buchanan bucky barnes #Avengers x Reader #avengers x reader #Part Three #avengers series #Series part three

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