#better hope he gets that throne quick <3
Note
Prompt: Azula joins Zuko on his Avatar hunt instead of Iroh. I don't know why, I don't know how, but I'm certain to be entertained by whatever follows.
Ozai and Ursa were already dead by the time Iroh arrived home. He stepped from his ship into the palanquin, and rode past the places of their execution, holding the urn of his son’s ashes.
He had no time to entrust them to the Fire Sages before his father summoned him. He brought them along, because this was an easier thing than setting them down. And perhaps Lu Ten’s grandfather would like to see him once more, outside of the family shrine. Iroh would have given anything—
He placed the urn on the floor next to him. It did not kneel when he did. Fire Lord Azulon surveyed him from behind the flames.
“Rise, my son. It is good to have you home.”
They did not speak of Lu Ten. His father had always been a man to look to the flames of the future, rather than the ashes of the past.
* * *
They hanged Ursa, as befitted her attempted crime, and her past station.
They burned Ozai, as befitted his. A child of Agni should always return to the flames.
The children of the traitors had been stricken from the family line. Had been placed in the capital prison; bait for the trap. Azulon was keeping close eye on those who expressed concern for the offspring of regicides. Ozai had expected support for his position; it would be Iroh’s second task to sift through the court, and discard the chaff.
His first task was a more practical resowing. Azulon had already selected a handful of candidates: women of suitable birth and known loyalties. The wedding date had been set, pending selection of the bride.
“Thank you, father,” Iroh said.
Lu Ten held his silence.
* * *
Azula had never liked the servants who’d fussed at her hair and clothes, who’d pulled and tugged until she was perfect, like perfect was a thing outside of her for others to bestow. She only had to look at Zuko to know how far tailored robes and well-oiled hair could take one.
She couldn’t see Zuzu from her cell. Her robes were too cold against the stone and every tug to wrap them tighter just made them worse, she could see it in the guards’ faces, the way they’d stared when she’d first arrived and looked a few days after and now they barely even saw. No one would talk to her, no matter her demands. They didn’t even stop their own conversations anymore; just slid in her food and kept walking and batted away her fires and it was cold here.
There were things crawling in her hair that her nails couldn’t dig out. Sometimes she thought she heard Zuzu yelling, but she couldn’t be sure. And it would have been undignified to yell back. She was a princess. She was fifth in line for the dragon throne.
Fourth, now that Lu Ten was dead.
Third, because father was, too.
He’d yelled and then he’d screamed and it hadn’t done anything but make the crowd jeer. Fire Lord Azulon had been silent. Poised. In control. She was his namesake and she would be too.
She was nine.
* * *
Zuko yelled until his throat burned. The guards didn’t care, they didn’t listen to him, which was nothing new. He shouted and shouted and his own ears hurt. Maybe that’s why he never heard Azula calling back.
Grandfather had made them watch when he’d killed father and, and—
If grandfather had Azula killed, he would have made Zuko watch that, too. Azula was probably just better at being a prisoner than he was. Maybe the guards even talked to her.
He was eleven.
* * *
Iroh’s new wife was a third his age. A flower just coming to bloom. She looked like his first wife; Azulon knew his preferences. She was young enough to be Lu Ten’s sister. She smiled and laughed each day with the other court wives, and came to his room with lists of possible dissenters to discuss in their marital bed. It was not the pillow talk he was used to, but it was charming, in its way. She liked to lay on her stomach and kick her feet above her as they traced the web of treachery with his dead brother at its center. She was here to have his children—a task at which she worked with admirable diligence—and to be the acting Fire Lady. She had not had to struggle and flaunt herself for his affections; she had been picked from a line-up, her expectations realistic, her motives aligned with his. It was the least romantic relationship Iroh had ever been part of. It was… refreshing.
On the day the palace doctor confirmed their newly budded line of succession, the Fire Lord called them both in for congratulations. And for pruning.
* * *
Zuko had turned twelve, but had not realized it. Azula had turned ten. She’d counted the days.
Iroh had not been able to visit them in prison; only to inquire as to their treatment. Individual cells, regular meals of reasonable quality, no abuses. He’d moved his own people into position to ensure the last.
Azulon had moved them back, after a delay for his soft-hearted son’s conscience. They could not waste loyal men on cuckoo-vipers. And Iroh could not waste his father’s good will. Not when it would be needed in the future, for the most important request.
* * *
“And your wife agrees to this?” asked the Fire Lord, behind his flames.
Iroh’s wife had not been directly addressed, and so did not reply. She sat in polite and perfect seiza, her head raised, as befitted the woman currently running her half of the court. Azulon had never seen fit to replace his own wife, after all.
“She does,” Iroh spoke for her. “We have spoken on the issue at length, and believe it best. Our family is small, and cannot afford to be smaller. The children are young; too young to have been in their parents’ confidences. With proper guidance—”
“And how would they place in the line of succession?” Azulon asked. “How would they chafe, how would they plot, with a decade’s experience over your eldest?”
Lu Ten’s own connections at court had been built while his cousins were still in diapers. But he was no longer Iroh’s eldest.
“We believe—”
“No,” his father interrupted again. “I will not allow their adoption. Not by you, where they could smother your own babe in the cradle, and certainly not by someone I trust less.”
Which was everyone, since the night his daughter-in-law had served him tea sent by his son.
“Father,” Iroh began, and his wife shifted her elbow just so, the only indication that she wished to dig it into his ribcage. “They are young, and innocent. They are my beloved nephew and niece. Your grandchildren. We cannot in good conscience—”
‘Good conscience’ had never factored into his father’s policies. Iroh had… begun to realize that, of late. His wife let out a small sigh, deliberately audible only to the man next to her. She had cautioned very strongly against a—how had she put it?—a feelings-based approach to this situation. Feelings rarely factored into her own decisions. She had been hand-selected by his father, after all.
His wife went into a half-bow, her head lowered. “May I speak, my lord?”
The flames crackled. The shadow of his father inclined its head, just slightly.
“To kill the children is wise, and I admit, would set my mind at ease for my own child’s sake. But my husband feels strongly on this matter, and so I support him, for his happiness is my own. May I suggest a compromise? To place them outside the court, where they cannot build influence, nor harm your son’s heirs. A position from which you can judge their characters and value to the nation as they grow.”
“You suggest banishment,” the Fire Lord said.
“Not unstructured, of course. To leave them roaming freely would invite those that would take them in. Perhaps a military commission? As they are commoners, they should begin from a rank befitting their station, of course. Let them prove their worth on their own merit.”
Iroh could not see through the flames, but he knew his wife’s small smile was reflected on his father’s face.
“A naval position,” the Fire Lord said. “On a ship that does not frequently make port. The frontlines would be the best place for them to prove themselves, wouldn’t you agree?”
Iroh closed his eyes.
“Father,” he said. “Please,” and he could feel his wife willing him to stop talking. The Fire Lord had already agreed to spare their lives. A banishment could be undone, so long as he and the children both outlived the man before them. “I… thank you for your wisdom in this ruling. But perhaps, if they complete some feat worthy of our line, they could be allowed to return?”
The flames were hot against his face. His new wife was still and silent against his side. His father… his father laughed, a low exhalation, the wheeze of a humorless old man.
“Let them bring me the Avatar,” Fire Lord Azulon said, “and I will welcome them home with honor.”
* * *
Zuko didn’t know why they’d pulled him from his cell or scrubbed him down or taken his old clothes. They’d been dirty but they could have been cleaned. His new clothes were scratchy, and too big, and they looked like a common soldier’s, and… and—
And they’d shaved his hair.
* * *
It had gotten rid of the bugs, Azula admitted, in the privacy of her own mind. Still. She memorized the faces of the woman who’d held her down and the man who’d shorn her. For future reference.
They hadn’t bothered sizing her new outfit for a child. Azula noted the quartermaster’s face, as well.
* * *
They were put on a ship. It was the first time they’d seen each other in nearly a year.
Zuzu looked at her head, and wisely said nothing.
She raised an eyebrow at his, and graciously granted him the same.
It was hard to tell them apart. They had their mother’s face. And their father’s.
* * *
Their captain’s name was Zhao. He invited them to dinner in his private quarters, once the Fire Nation was behind them. Zuko fidgeted. Azula didn’t.
The captain spoke on how much potential he saw in them, under a commander who saw their true value.
Together, they could go far. Very far, indeed.
Azula smiled and said all the things she thought father would have said. Zuko scowled.
Zhao brushed over their arms with his own while reaching for things. He served them more when they said they were already full. He squeezed their shoulders when he brought them back to their rooms, which were next to his, even though the rest of the lower crewmen slept together in the same big cabin. Zuko scowled harder.
Azula was invited back. Zuko wasn’t.
* * *
Zhao was… Zhao wasn’t a good person.
“I know that, dum-dum. But do you want to stay banished forever?”
“Uncle said—”
“Uncle’s going to change his mind, when he has his own heir and a spare. We’re threats, Zuzu. And Zhao knows father’s old friends. He’s one of the smart ones.”
The dumb ones had already been executed.
“I… I think he wants to—to tie himself to the royal line.”
“Eww,” she said. “I’m ten. If he wants to get engaged, I’ll just break it when we’ve got the throne. It will be too late for him to retract his support, then.”
They’d barely left port before Zhao had made his first move. He didn’t seem like a man who waited.
Azula was ten, but Zuko was twelve. Being twelve was almost thirteen, which was almost a teenager, which was almost an adult, and adults understood things that ten year olds didn’t.
They had to get off this ship. They had to go home.
Zuko had to find the Avatar.
* * *
(This ficlet is now posted on AO3.)
#are you not entertained?#eventually this one will be a Fire Lord Iroh AU#better hope he gets that throne quick <3#Happy Ending: and then they joined the southern raiders just as Hakoda was setting sail#and Hakoda was unprepared for these feral fuzzy-headed children suddenly on his ship#Bad Ending: and then they joined the southern raiders when Zuko was sixteen and Azula was fourteen#after four years with Zhao#Zuko: *shakes Aang until he glows then yeets him at Zhao like a grenade*#Azula: that's a good first step to being my favorite brother#but I still don't have a crown in my hair Zuzu#Avatar The Last Airbender#atla#Zuko#Azula#Iroh#I actually really like Iroh's new wife?#RIP one-off OC I'll probably never use again#you are the politically climbing aro-ace rep we deserve#New Wife: sure I'll exchange my firstborn for ultimate power in my nation#wait I can keep the kid too?#sweet deal#ficlet#Cuckoo-Vipers
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Marrying Thor but being in love with Loki. Have her go to Loki’s room at wedding night so he can finish what his brother failed to…if yu know what i mean
Old work I dug from my wip, I hope you enjoy it <3
Warnings: 18+, smut, infidelity, oral (f receiving)
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
—
Sometimes, life doesn’t go according to plan. Sometimes, it rains and you have to wear a cloak over the pretty dress you wanted to wear that day. Sometimes, you get a terrible headache and have to go to bed early. Sometimes, for political reasons, you have to put duty before heart matters.
One is the heir to the throne, the future king…and the other one is the king of your heart.
Your father had forged this arrangement with Odin in secret, with hopes of uniting realms. Though such alliances through marriage were nothing new, neither you nor Thor had been consulted beforehand. You were quick to voice your displeasure to your respective parents, but they didn’t care. You and Thor were going to marry.
Your future husband didn’t care too much. Duty was duty.
Loki, however, had a different perspective. When the news of the marriage got to his ears, he was furious.
He didn’t show up to the marriage, which was expected and better that way. No one wants to see the person they love marrying another.
After the ceremony, you snuck out of Thor’s quarters and ventured to Loki’s. You were mindful of the guards all around the palace, knowing that if you were seen there would be consequences.
You knocked on his door, your fist delicate against the thick wood. You could hear some shuffling, followed by footsteps coming to the door. He was out of his day clothes and wearing a dark green soft, silk shirt and lounge pants.
The corner of his mouth curled into a smirk when he saw you in your delicate robe and hair undone, cascading down your back in loose waves caused by your wedding hairstyle. ‘’What do we have here? The future queen of Asgard sneaking from her dear husband’s bed on her wedding night. Marital troubles already?’’
You fought the envy to roll your eyes at his remark. ‘’I braved the guards to see you, don’t leaving me standing in the corridor.’’
Loki stepped aside and you walked in, closing the door behind you. Inside, everything looked the same as it always did; the bed was perfectly made, the thick curtains were shut and shielding the room from the glow of the moon, and the desk was stacked with parchment papers and bits of used charcoal.
‘’Don’t you have better things to do than clandestinely visit your dear husband’s brother in the middle of the night?’’ Loki's voice was laced with a bitter edge as he spoke, his back turned to you as he walked back to the velvet green couch he was sitting on before you interrupted his reading.
You couldn't help but respond with a touch of sarcasm, trying to break through the tension that hung in the room. ‘’Like listening to Thor’s snores that could make a trumpet sound quiet?’’
You walked over to the couch and took a seat beside him with your back against the cushioned armrest. It wasn’t very lady-like to sit with your feet on the couch, but no one was there to scold you. The red silk of your robe contrasted with the jewel tone of the couch, a silent reminder that you shouldn’t be there. Red was Thor’s color.
‘’How was the bedding ceremony?’’ The prince set the book he was reading on the table, his head turned from you to hide how he truly felt about the thought of you and Thor having sex.
Shifting uncomfortably, you casted your eyes down. ‘’Can we not talk about that—’’
Loki ghosted his hand slowly up your ankle, shin, then stopped right below your knee. ‘’Does he touch you like I do?’’
The answer was easy.
You wouldn’t call Thor selfish, but when it came to sex, his performances weren’t what you would expect from a god. The rumors were true, even a good dick doesn’t guarantee you good sex. No foreplay or any kind of fun, just plain old missionary…for five minutes. The liters of Asgardian Ale he had drank during the wedding celebration were possible to blame for that terrible experience. Hopefully it won’t always be like that.
With Loki, sex was completely different. He knew your body like the back of his hand, the exact ways that had your back aching and screaming. And there was a connection that just wasn't there with Thor.
You shook your head.
Loki laughed, genuinely amused from hearing of his brother's incompetence. ‘’You have no idea how hilarious it is. Thor, the mighty God of Thunder and heir to the throne, failed to satisfy his wife on his wedding night.’’
‘’I knew it would amuse you. Knowing there’s something you’re more skilled at than him.’’
A sly smirk played on the prince’s lips, flattered by your compliment. ‘’Tell me more.’’
‘’Don’t be greedy.’’ Your eyes longed on him, how beautiful he looked in the glow of the lamp.
‘’Me?’’ Loki leaned back on the couch, his eyes gleaming mischievously in the dim light. ‘’The only thing I’m greedy for is sitting right in front of me and wearing a color that’s far too overpowering for her complexion.’’
His words only strengthened your guilt for taking the hand of a man you didn't love. It was killing you inside to know you'll never get to hold Loki's hand arm in the gardens or kiss him in front of the inhabitants of Asgard.
Turning a blind eye to your new marital status, you let your fingers glide down along the lapel of your robe, and traced teasingly the seam of your belt-tie. ‘’Shall I take it off?’’ you said in a near whisper.
‘’And what of your new husband?’’
‘’He’s sleeping until morning.’’ You pulled at the belt-tie and undid the knot, letting the silk slowly fall and expose your breasts.
A silent growl caught in Loki's throat. He's mouthed and worshiped those so many times, yet he was still in awe every time you undressed.
Without withdrawing his eyes from you, he made the robe vanish with a snap of his fingers, leaving you completely bare on his emerald green couch. ‘’Green looks better on you.’’ He delicately grabbed your ankles, and spread your legs before crawling between them.
A sigh left your lips when he kissed the insides of your thighs, giving attention to what had been neglected in Thor’s quarters. Loki was right, no man touched you like he did. He looked up at you as he kissed higher and higher on your skin, making the situation more sensual. You bit down your lip when he
placed a loving kiss against your sensitive clit, and grip his dark curls as his tongue swirled and suckled your sensitive bud.
‘’Ahh, Loki!’’
His name was the only one on your tongue, echoing through the wall of his bed chamber and down the corridor.
—
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#loki#loki laufeyson#loki laufeyson x reader#loki laufeyson imagine#loki x reader#loki marvel#loki odinson#marvel#marvel imagine
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Whipped
Pairing: Solo Sikoa x Fem!Bloodline!Reader
Warnings: Fluff!
Word Count: 1,391
Summary: Ever since you joined the team the boys notice how whipped you got Solo and tease him for it.
A/N: I know I’ve used this gif like 3 times, but it fits so well with everything! Hope You Enjoy!
It's been 3 months since you joined the Bloodline after impressing the leader Roman, and you're so glad you did because you have an amazing friendship with each and every member.
You and Jimmy are the clowns of the team. Always making jokes about people, not caring what they think.
You and Jey are kinda chill. Y'all talk to each other, but you're not that close.
And then there's Solo.
Solo's gotta be your favorite out of everyone. You don't know what it is about him, but you're so drawn to him. He barely even talks and he's got you like this.
You're always hanging out with him and making sure he feels included even when not talking, and that's probably what makes him feel so special to you.
-
Right now, you, Jimmy, and Jey walked backstage as Jey patted your arms and neck with a towel. You just won your match against Zelina Vega, which was very easy.
“That match was a banger, Uce." You smiled at Jimmy's praise. "I know. I'm so tired of getting jobbers. Where’s the real competition at?" You complained, walking through the locker room door.
Roman was sitting on his throne with Solo and Paul standing behind him. You instantly made a b-line for Solo, hugging on his arm. “Did you see my match? I won!” Solo chuckled, nodding his head. “Yeah.” He shortly answered.
You squealed, jumping up and down. “I looked good didn’t I?” The boys watched as you gave Solo all your attention. “Speaking of looking good, is this new gear? You look real good in black and white.” The clearing of a throat cut your sweet conversation short.
You turned around and saw Roman staring at you. “What?” You didn’t mean for your sassy tone to come out. Roman cocked an eyebrow up. “So you’re not gonna talk to us?”
You ‘thought’ about it for a minute, before answering. “Uh, no? Come on Solo, let’s go to the catering before your match!” You dragged Solo out the locker room, leaving a shocked Roman and Uso’s.
“Damn Uce, she told you.” Jimmy joked, but shut up when Roman gave him a death glare.
The boys sat back, waiting for Solo’s match to come on.
-
About 20 minutes later, Solo’s match came on. You accompanied him to the ring as he was set to fight Santos Escobar with Zelina in his corner.
As Santos made his entrance you sat on the top turnbuckle with Solo standing between your legs, and back facing you. You massaged his shoulders, helping him calm down before the match.
As Santos got in the ring Solo helped you through the ropes, opening them for you. At the locker room the Uso’s and Roman were making jokes about Solo, seeing how he was quick to do everything for you.
His match was going well, but Zelina must’ve thought she was gonna do something when she hopped on the apron. You were quick to run around the ring and swipe her feet off. She groaned in pain as her face hit the hard apron.
With the small distraction Solo hit Santos with a Samoan Spike before getting the pin. Fans booed and cheered as the 3 count hit. You jumped up and down, clapping loud. “My baby won!” You slid into the ring, pushing the referee and taking her place.
You raised his hand high, yelling at the fans who were booing. “Shut up, you’re just mad he’s better!” Solo bit back a smile, not wanting to break character.
After a little bit of celebrating you both made your way backstage and to the locker room. “Solo won! He beat Santos’s ass!” Solo finally broke character, laughing at your words. “Yeah, Solo’s the man!” Jimmy said, patting Solo’s chest.
Roman stood up from his throne, silencing everyone. “We’re not done. We got a promo tonight.” Everyone looked confused at his words. “We do?” Jey asked, earning a nod from Roman.
“Yeah, Judgement Day wanna call us out on Twitter, so let’s go put them in their place. Everyone, go wash up and change.” Everyone parted ways going to the showers.
After everyone showered and met up at the gorilla, the Bloodline music played, Roman taking lead and then everyone else.
Many fans held their ones up, supporting the team. You were with Solo the whole time despite the fact you were supposed to be on the side with Jey.
Roman talked in the microphone about how y’all were the best team that happens to WWE, but it wasn’t long before the Judgment Day’s theme hit.
Fans stood up, excited for what’s next between the two teams.
They entered the ring, everyone staring down at each other. Rhea winked at you, then grabbed a mic. “Oh Roman, please shut up. You’re just talking and talking about shit that nobody cares about.” Fans began to cheer as Rhea spoke.
Dominik laughed, getting the mic from Rhea. “Yeah and when-” As soon as Dominik began to speak fans booed. The whole Bloodline started laughing. You grabbed the mic from Roman.
“Oh, Dommy Dom, can you talk or are the fans louder than your voice?” You teased. “Or does Mami need to do all the talking for you?” All attention turned to Rhea as you challenged her.
Rhea laughed when you came after her. “Are you talking to me Y/n or do you need permission from Roman?” ‘Ooos’ echoed around the arena as your tongue poked through your cheek.
“Rhea, I might need permission on what I do with the team, but I don’t need permission from Roman to beat your ass. So if I was you, I would take you, your team, and Dommy boy out of this arena and go back to where you came from.” Fans watched in anticipation as you and Rhea exchanged words.
Rhea was about to say something, but JD snatched the mic away. “Oi, who do you think you’re talking to like that? Don’t ever talk to Mami like that again.”
You stepped back as JD got closer and closer to your face. “Solo!” You called. Solo was at your side in an instant, standing in front of you, and staring JD down. JD gulped seeing how serious Solo looked. “Oh, what’s wrong Jordon? Can’t handle my man? You might have Mami, but she’s NOTHING compared to Solo.”
It was all still in the ring, everyone looking at each other before all hell broke loose. Hits were being thrown. Roman was after Finn, Jimmy was on Priest, Jey with Dominik, and Solo after JD.
You fought Rhea for a little bit, but she quickly retreated, grabbing Dominik on her way out. The team stalked up the ramp, holding their body in pain.
“Bye, bye!” You waved, laughing as they cursed at you, but you couldn’t hear due to the loud fans. You went to Solo almost jumping on his body, hugging him. “You were so hot fighting JD.” You kissed his cheek, a blush spreading across his face.
Fans took pictures of the blushing Solo, surprised to see him break character. You all went backstage to get your bags.
After all that fighting Jimmy grew thirsty and seeing Solo with a water bottle made him ask. “Yo Uce, let me get some water.” Solo gave Jimmy the dirtiest glare. “Damn man, calm down I wanted some water, but nevermind.” Jimmy said, holding his hands up in surrender.
You came through the door with your bags in hand, panting. “Oh my god, I need some water, I’m so thirsty!” Before you went to Solo, Jimmy warned you. “Don’t go to Solo. He’s not gonna give you any wat-” Jimmy stopped talking as he watched Solo hand you the bottle of water.
He looked betrayed as you drank the cold water. “Are you serious bro, I wanted some!” The locker room was full of laughter as you gave Solo his water back.
“Don’t be mad, Uce. Y/n’s got Solo so whipped, it’s crazy.” Jey said and to everyone’s surprise Solo didn’t argue back.
You winked at the team with a smile. “I would be to if I was dating someone like me. Come on baby, let’s go to the hotel!” Solo got up quickly, taking all 3 of your medium sized bags and going to the car.
#solo sikoa#solo sikoa fluff#solo sikoa imagine#solo sikoa x reader#solo sikoa smut#solo sikoa fic#wwe solo sikoa#wwe bloodline#wwe fluff#wwe smut
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hii 💕💞💕💞 I really love your work, and the scenario format is turning out amazing!! I'd love to request how the hotd characters act when they're jealous, perhaps?
HOW THEY ACT WHEN JEALOUS
summary: how the hotd characters act when they’re jealous / do they get jealous etc
includes: aemond, aegon, alicent, rhaenyra, daemon, jace & harwin
authors note: hi sweet anon! thank you for being so kind i hope you enjoy these <3
aemond likes to think he’s above such silly feelings but in reality he isn’t. he adores the time he gets with you and as immature as it is he gets easily aggravated if you pass him over for something or even worse, someone else. he hates to see you smile or laugh at someone else, they’re things that are his, you should be doing that for him. usually he’ll find some random excuse to take your attention away and he’ll whisk you away somewhere private where he’ll kiss you until you can’t breathe, until all you can remember is his name. he’s got no problem with threats though or even physical violence if it goes that far but he’d keep it civil enough for your sake and by that he means he won’t have their tongues.
aegon doesn’t bother with jealousy much but when he does it can be horrible for everyone involved, even you. he’s definitely one for retaliation so if someone is flirting with you or dancing with you he’ll find some random woman and position himself right in front of your eye line so you have to watch. he doesn’t know how to deal with the emotion and it only ends badly with you refusing you talk to him as a result of his rash actions.
as she gets older, alicent has a lot of people at her disposal so if you were upto something she knows she would have heard about it the second it started, so no she doesn’t get particularly jealous especially if you reassure her after. of course if someone oversteps she’ll step in, usually excusing the two of you with a hand on your back and a steely glare at whoever is trying to get close to you.
when rhaenyra is younger she’d probably act out and all you can do is sit back and wonder what you’ve done. she’d avoid you and make subtle, snarky comments when you do finally run into her. once you catch on and talk her down she realises her mistake and apologises. it’s something she gets better at with age, if she feels paranoid about something she’ll come to you straight away, it often coming out in blunt questions and short answers. nothing usually happens in front of her, she is a princess and the heir to the throne and no one who’s smart wants to disrespect her openly.
daemon is probably the most arrogant man you’ve ever met and the idea of him being jealous makes you chuckle. it’s definitely a rare thing for him, most men with common sense know to steer clear of you or at least keep a respectful distance but of course you get the stupid ones. he can definitely be possessive because he sees you as completely his, an extension of himself and if a man steps a toe out of line he has no problem drawing blood. often his way of dealing with it is being overly affectionate in front of the person who’s made him jealous, feeling you up, kissing you, whispering dirty things to you - that’s how he deals with it, by showing that you’re his and his only.
as much as jacerys hates it he can be a little insecure. he is aware how young he is and when older lords come sniffing around you it makes him uncomfortable because he would never hold you to vows if you were unhappy with him and what if you want someone with more experience and maturity? he’s definitely stew on it for a while and it would come out in a jumble of words when he’s finally ready to ask you about it. apart from that he’s protective and quick to defend you if anything happens that he deems disrespectful or too far, especially if it’s his uncles.
harwin is more overprotective than jealous, at least according to him. he’s very secure in himself, he hasn’t earned his name for nothing. before you’re even betrothed when he’s just admired you from afar, any man that even considers asking you harwin invites to watch him at his morning practice, the ones closest to asking for your hand he asks to be his sparring partner. he’s not making it overtly obvious that the idea of you with another man makes him furious but he definitely shows who the better man is.
#aemond targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen x reader#alicent hightower x reader#rhaenyra targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen x reader#jacerys velaryon x reader#harwin strong x reader#house of the dragon
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Wild Sorcerer Merlin Au pt 1
Uther finds out about Merlin’s magic and he is to be executed
This is set around s2 or 3 so before evil Morgana
The gang ( Morgana, Gwen and Arthur) help Merlin escape but Merthur have a huge argument
“ I can’t believe you’ve lie to me all this time!” “I didn’t want to I just-!” “I don’t wanna hear it!”
In the end Merlin leaves with a bitter and sad relationship with Arthur
Arthur is inconsolable, his best friend and the man he loved trusted the most in the world lied to him! He is bitter and angry and so so sad.
The knights of the round table still come to be but Merlin’s role could never be replaced
Uther dies estranged from his children and Arthur takes the throne
Morgana’s dreams get so bad that she runs away to a Druid camp and is never seen from again
Years go by and not a single day has Arthur not thought of Merlin, even after his failed attempts at courting Gwen (she was always better off with Lancelot anyway)
One day while hunting they encounter a really bad and corrupted magic animal
They are losing the battle and as all hope is lost a magic burst comes in and saves them all
They’re injured and confused and scared but alive
A Druid finds them and after Arthur swears their safety, leads them to their camp where they are healed
Arthur watches the camp in wonder and is talked to by a Druid elder
She’s an ancient thing, skin so wrinkled with experience he can’t help but feel like a child in her presence
She is kind and patient
She talks to him of mundane things and he forgets for that moment that she is a Druid, someone raised with magic.
She hands him soup and warms it with magic. He wonders at that because never has he seen magic used for mundane and simple things
That prompts the knights to ask about that magic burst that saved their lives
“Was that magic you guys?”
The druids sit in a long silence before the old Druid lady comes up to them
“It must have been dear Emrys” “Emrys? Whose that?” “Oh my dears, who do you think has been protecting Camelot all these years?”
The druids then explain how Emrys has been protecting Camelot from several years now. They mention a few that they know of (the priestess Morgause being stopped several times) and talk of the many protection spells and wards that surround Camelot.
Arthur is confused and kinda terrified. Why would this Emrys protect Camelot, protect them, when they could be killed for even simple warming spells? What do they gain? Who are they?
The druids speak of Emrys’ power and how it keeps growing everyday.
“He visits sometimes, sometimes to set wards for us, sometimes to learn whatever spells we know, sometimes just for company. He’s a lonely boy, that one. The weight of the world on his shoulders and a horribly kind heart. You are fortunate to have him on your side.”
After dinner they rest and Arthur can’t help but think of Merlin and how he would react. He decides to finally lift the ban on magic.
They get back to Camelot and Arthur begins drafting the laws on magic use before lifting the ban
A few months go by and in that time Arthur notices the little sparks of magic protecting Camelot. He tries to make the laws as quick but as well as he could. He went to the Druids for help on what could be done to make more accurate laws on magic
He asks them on where to find Emrys, to thank him and ask for his help. And perhaps to add him to the court because someone whose been protecting Camelot so fiercely in spite of the dangers should be part of the council.
The Druids can only shake their heads sadly “He can only be found when he wants to be.” and leave it at that
Later Morgana comes back after about Arthur working to lift the band. Their reunion is bitter at first but when Morgana explains why she left they come an understanding with one another
She works together with him [and the roundtable] to lift the ban. When they ask her about Emrys she gives them a funny look.
“You don’t know?” “No, Morgan, we don’t. The Druids only say we’ll find him when he wants to be found”
She scoffs unbelievably “That blasted fool!” And storms out
No one sees her for almost a week before she comes barging back in the council room, dragging a cloaked figure by their cloth( who is clearly trying to remove her grip)
Arthur was angry with worry and demanded to know where she went.
“Where the bloody hell have you been!?” “First of all watch your tone when speaking to me. Second of all, i went ahead and got Emrys since you lot are too incompetent to do so” “…….THATS EMRYS!?”
They argue and bicker some more while Emrys struggles against Morgana’s grip, a misstep here leads to the cloak coming off
Arthur looks and practically swallows his tongue at who he sees.
It’s Merlin
#honestly not the best but I wanted to get the idea out my head#fanfiction#writing#ao3#Merlin#bbc Merlin#bbc Merlin Arthur pendragon#bbc Merlin Morgana pendragon#bbc Merlin morgana#bbc Merlin Arthur#merlin emrys#arthur pendragon#Morgana pendragon#bbc merlin Gwen#guinivere#bbc merlin Lancelot#lancelot du lac
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Leave Me
Part 3 of Leaving Me Behind
Requested: can you please make a part three of Leaving her because of his father I am literally crying for them for Orm and Reader
Genre: angst (heartbreak), clashing conversation between father and son
(For Orm’s father I had to google his name. It said that his name was Orvax. Not sure if it’s correct but 🤷🏼♀️)
Enjoy!
Orm began to dive into the water; he felt a tug in his heart, a strong pull, making his brain calculate how to get back to the shore. He continued swimming. He felt the way of unhappiness as he swam against the moving currents and wave strokes.
His heartbreak was nothing he could describe or even perceive with words. A feeling he knew was going to last.
Y/n was standing there, crying, pleading to the sky, the sea, and the land for him to return. Her hands shoveled and held the sand as if she was holding a lifeline and was trying to pull him back into her arms where she felt safe and protected.
But now gone, descending deeper into the water, he felt his eyes gaze upon his kingdom, Atlantis. He meant to rule and guard, although it wasn't something he wanted to be anymore, his heart holding back, and yet his lineage, his bloodline, called him back, and now he doesn't want to go.
The father's wrath was felt at the castle's entrance, and the defining silence was the only positive presence between the father and son.
'What are you doing?!' His father roared from the throne,
'I was in love; I love someone. Someone loves me.' the young prince admitted with a broken, delicate tone trying to get a better sense of everything.
'You don't love! A ruler, a future king, doesn't have sentiments. He has his mastership and education to stand behind and not something nonsensical and breakable like love...' he spoke with disgust polluting each word.
'Are you going to go on an identical path like your mother?!' His father banged his fisted hand on the throne handles, the brute force shaking the throne, the wrathful aftershock slithering around and towards Orm, bringing him to his knees, his face pulled down. The sheer bubbling anger Orm felt, he suppressed it, knowing how wrathful his father was, still feeling the snaps and punches on his body from years prior.
Orvax swam down to his son's level, witnessing his son, a future ruler usually full of dignity, brilliance, and regal venom dripping from his mouth and now spending a couple of months with a surface dweller transforming him. Orvax presumed Orm was just having enjoyment; he did not expect his son to come disfigured as a... disgrace.
Orvax touched his son's shoulder, feeling the quick pull back from Orm, Orm's eyes shooting up in pure fear and shock. Orm never saw his father so close. His father wasn't that type of person, the type of person he was...
'Since you are back, I do hope you won't be going back up. Unless you intend to rain upon waves of hurt to...surface dwellers.'
With the intentional pause on the last two words, Orm saw a mischief gleam in his father's eyes, a gleam he also had, a gleam of revenge.
After all, he was this type of person, vengeful and spiteful.
Orm felt his weight shift back from his feet and entirely on the floor. His future he didn't know he deserved with Y/n, was now gone completely. Replaced by ruling the kingdom, only having a feeling of fear of his father. His thoughts ran with the memories he made with Y/n locking them in the safest place, so nothing could tarnish them, not even his father and his cruel ways. Orm looks up at his blood and asks, knowing very well the answer.
'So I don't even deserve to be happy, father?'
His father began to walk away as he answered, 'No.'
Y/n looked at the waves still crashing and moving, the scenery shades with a dark blue sky, the full moon, and starts being the only bright thing in Y/n view. Her eyes, red and swollen from crying, were fixed onto the waves, her ears picking up the soft footsteps near her.
'Y/n.' a soft tone spoke, the tone she had heard numerous times.
'Arthur, what should I do? I thought that he was happy.'
Arthur takes a small letter handing it to her, offering a missing piece of the puzzle.
'Unfortunately, it is power beyond our measures.'
Opening the letter Y/n, she gazed upon the rich handwriting.
'Dearest,
I love you. I do not wish to think this is our last communication, but it is. I hope to Gods that it is not. You gave me something no one ever did: to live happily. To enjoy. And my heart breaks over the thought of you crying, wasting your tears on someone like me. Therefore, I will continue to live as a future ruler, and you should continue your life without me. I will always cherish our moments in my cold heart.
-Orm.'
Y/n glimpses at Arthur and speaks, 'What should I do, Art?'
'Take one day at a time. Let's get you into the house.'
Standing up after hours of sitting, Y/n ambled back home, turning around, trying to see one last time if Orm was there, waiting for her.
There wasn't much on the sea, only rocks and waves and a heartbroken king looking from the far distance, his love walking away.
#king orm imagine#orm marius x reader#orm#orm imagine#orm x reader#aquaman one shot#aquaman x you#aquaman x reader#aquaman#dcmultiverse#dc one shot#dc x reader#dc imagine#justice leauge imagine#justice leauge x reader#justice league#patrick wilson#imagine#requested imagine#aquaman imagine#dceu#dc fanart
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☆ The Gift -- Thrawn x reader ☆
> title ☆ The Gift ☆ part 2/?
> summary ☆ As congratulations for his recent promotion to Grand Admiral, Emperor Palpatine gives Thrawn a gift -- a young woman who has been trained as a pleasure companion.
> pairing ☆ Thrawn x reader ☆ word count [3.8k] ☆ warnings for this part ☆ brief sexual language ☆ series warnings ☆ dubious consent; sexual slavery; concubine/ sex slave AU; will add more warnings as more parts are posted
>series navigation ☆ part 1 ☆ part 2 ☆ part 3 ☆ part 4 ☆ part 5 ☆ part 6 ☆ part 7
> posted on ao3
author note!! To be very clear, in this story reader is a concubine against her will and is gifted to Thrawn, but there is at no point any noncon between Thrawn and reader. Reader is never noncon with anyone, either referenced or explicitly, and there is never any explicit noncon. However, this is a darker take on Thrawn and he doesn't really have many hangups about putting his gift to use...
Neither Mirri nor Solis know where his shuttle is, and one did not stop a Grand Admiral as he was walking away to ask for clarification about something so trivial, despite you elbowing them to do just that.
They walk you to the turbolift, and just before you get on, an aide comes up and gives directions. Landing platform E-52. The lambda class shuttle. The aide leers at you openly, and wonders to his superior officer, “what do I have to do to get one of those?”
The Commander snorts. “A Prasad?” the formal term for the type of trained, indoctrinated pleasure companion popular among the Empire’s elite; you are surprised he knows it, though any good Imperial citizen would recognize what you are just from the distinctive robes. “Gain more favor than you’ll ever hope for in a lifetime. Or make friends with someone who’s got one. I hear they share the best ones around. Get invited to the right party and all you’ve got to do is wait in line for a turn.”
You stiffen and stumble, nearly managing to turn towards the two men, with no real plan of what you might say. Mirri catches you.
“Do you think he’ll be-- he’ll be nice?” You ask in a small voice once the lift doors have closed. Or at least gentle. Mirri and Solis do not answer. The walk to the platform is quick, just a short ways outside through more elegant, richly appointed halls. These ones have hanging gardens, trailing vines and foliage beneath a huge glass ceiling and bursts of flowers, the entire floor a mosaic of millions of black and white stones. You try to dawdle, slowing your pace to spend just a little more time. Given to a Grand Admiral, you will likely spend at least the next six months in space, on a warship, and you don’t know when you might be planetside again, let alone on one with greenery.
But Mirri and Solis lead you through it too quickly, and after a short walk, you are there on LP E-52.
Private platforms such as this one have small, luxurious waiting rooms, so that the senator or whoever is being flown that day does not have to wait out in the elements. Mirri and Solis choose not to use it, and you know they would have happily made you stand there in the wind, until you are bone-chilled and shivering despite the bright Coruscant sun.
Luckily-- one small mercy on this day-- the Grand Admiral arrives within minutes, walking ahead of a small contingent.
Nausea has been a constant, rising bloat in your stomach since walking into the throne room but now it threatens to overwhelm you. A wild, horrible thought comes to you, that maybe if you’re quick enough you could run for the edge of the platform, and just be… done. But you know it wouldn’t work. There are safety measures. Systems of repulsor barriers and simple old fashioned nets to catch people in case of falls or accidents.
“Be sure to mind him,” Mirri whispers to you harshly.
“The last nine to be presented before you all went to lower ranking officers or minor dignitaries—“ Solis says.
“And all were better behaved than you.” Mirri’s tone is venomous.
Then they both step back, bowing deeply to him, and you stand alone. Strong winds buffet the platform, whipping your robe against you like a sail.
Instead of his aide approaching you, the Grand Admiral himself advances. Up close, he is even more imposing of a figure, his bearing imperious and assured, his skin unmistakably blue and his hair sleek blue-black, like indigo. In this light, he looks magnificent, a paragon of an Imperial officer. His uniform is blindingly white, gold shoulder bars, silver collar insignia, and code cylinders glinting brightly, the broad expanse of his chest interrupted by the large rank plaque. The jodhpurs and black jackboots only make his legs look longer-- most Imperial officers you have seen do not carry off the look so well.
You have heard of Gifts kneeling when presented, and always thought it was stupid, but the urge to sink down in front of him pulls at you now. Somehow it would feel so natural. Just the idea of it feels traitorous to everything you believe.
“Come,” he says, bringing one white leather-gloved hand from behind his back to gesture for you to walk beside him. He is stern, but not hurried. He is a Grand Admiral, meaning everyone else bends to his schedule and never the other way around. A cadre of four black armored death troopers fall in step behind— they must be his personal guard. You gawk at them a moment too long, turning your head to look over your shoulder, then the Grand Admiral’s hand is at the small of your back.
“Watch your step,” he murmurs, a second before you trip— the hem of your robe, the uneven surface of the boarding ramp, or both— and he catches you, sets you right.
“I’m fine, I don’t need help,” you say sharply, even as your cheeks burn with embarrassment.
He lets you shrug off his assistance with another quiet word. His accent is like nothing you’ve heard before-- not that you are particularly well traveled-- but it certainly isn’t from any Core world.
“Where are we going?” you ask, feeling strange and a bit guilty for wanting to hear him talk more.
Once you, the Grand Admiral, the complement of troopers and a handful of aides are inside the small loading bay, the ramp closes with a prolonged hydraulic hiss.
“This way,” he says. You follow him through a narrow passageway to the main cabin. Unlike the rest of the shuttle, which is drab, Imperial-issue grey, this cabin is furnished with plush leather seats, what looks like a small bar, and a shiny stone surface desk in one corner, all in sleek black and white.
The Grand Admiral motions courteously for you to sit, while his aide, a pale, light haired young man in an olive-drab lieutenant’s uniform takes a post standing by the hatch you just came through.
“I meant-- are we leaving the planet? What system are we going to?”
At that moment, the shuttle’s engines kick on, and light streams into the cabin as the wings unfold while the craft slowly lifts off and rotates. Strange. From the outside it looks like the only transparisteel on the shuttle is around the cockpit.
“Yes,” the Grand Admiral says. “To my ship, the Imperial Star Destroyer Chimaera. Lieutenant Tyvo, send word ahead for the stormtroopers to begin preparing their cold weather uniforms and kit. And during the next week, have the section chiefs ensure forward chasing tractor beam targeteers run through another training cycle.”
“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant says, and immediately begins typing on his datapad.
The Grand Admiral continues speaking to the lieutenant, giving instructions about maneuvers and training schedules and meetings and briefings, and you realize he will not be sharing any more information with you. So you settle deeper into your seat-- much more comfortable than any in the austere cloister where you had spent the past year-- and gaze out the starboard viewport. The city flashes by, spire after spire, growing quickly smaller as the shuttle rises. No waiting in traffic, but of course a Grand Admiral must have his own priority lane.
“Anything else, sir?”
“No, that is all. Thank you, Lieutenant.”
You look over to find the Grand Admiral standing, as he seems to like to do, with his hands clasped behind his back. He regards you for a moment, cold and appraising, before sitting opposite, and his authoritative bearing makes you sit up straighter. Somehow his starched white uniform doesn’t wrinkle. “What is your name?”
The question gives you pause. It is customary to only speak a companion’s given name in private. “They didn’t tell you?”
“I would like to hear it from you.”
He does not seem cruel or pushy, and that unbalances you. With less reluctance than you feel you ought to have, you quietly give him your name so the Lieutenant can’t hear, and then ask his.
“Mitth’raw’nuruodo,” he says. “But you may find it easier to call me Thrawn.”
You repeat his name with a small nod. “Thrawn.”
His glowing red eyes do not have pupils, and though you can’t tell quite where he might be looking, you feel the weight of his attention pinning you down nonetheless.
You feel your face grow hot. Is he going to have you here, now? It would be well within his rights. He is entitled to anything— everything. The thought makes you squirm with anger and… something else hot and deep in your chest you can’t give a name to.
Quickly, you pull your gaze down to your lap. Demure, as you had been taught. “Sorry,” you mumble.
“For what?”
“Staring. You probably get stared at a lot.” Hold your tongue. Mirri and Solis would have seen that you were punished for this impertinence. There had been one girl who had been with you, retraining after her first master had been terribly displeased with her. At least, that is as much as you could glean. He had removed her tongue before sending her back, and the threat of having all her teeth pulled out too kept her obedient.
Thrawn raises a blue-black eyebrow. “Indeed.”
For a time, he says nothing more, but studies you closely. His eyes seem to roam over your form, and you feel somehow naked, exposed for his discernment. You watch him back, thankful for your veil once more, studying his face. His features are even, well proportioned, though severe, and his dark hair slicked back from a widow’s peak makes him distinguished. Perhaps he is considered handsome among his people. The third time he catches your gaze, you get the distinct sense that he knows exactly where you are looking.
There is a definite hunger in the way he watches you, intent and completely still. As if waiting for you to act first. The tiniest movement. You exhale slightly, and it makes the fabric covering your face flutter.
Caught again.
“Remove your veil.”
You jerk at the order, and in a split second of gut instinct, almost obey, such is the authority in his voice and bearing. Thrawn’s aide gives a start too, fumbling the data pad he’s holding.
“Give us the room, Lieutenant,” Thrawn says without looking away from you, and his aide hurries out.
Thrawn rises, unfolding his long limbs gracefully, and crosses to you in two steps. “My apologies.” He stands at his full height, broad shoulders square and hands behind his back. It gives him an infuriating air of calm superiority. And still, you can’t shake a foreboding sense that he is very, very dangerous, and not to be crossed. “It is customary for those of your position to remain covered at all times, except during… intimate situations. Is it not?”
“Y-yes. Yes sir,” you say, relieved that he understands.
A beat passes, and then he prompts: “we are alone now.”
You feel your face heat at the implication. “I don’t want to.”
His mouth presses into a thin line. “That is of no concern to me.”
“I don’t want to kiss you.”
His red eyes gleam. “It was not a request.”
You stand up, meaning to move away, but it only puts you closer to him, and his height dwarfs yours. “I don’t want to lay with you!”
“Is that what you imagine necessitates showing your face?” His voice drops to nearly a whisper, full of dark promise. “When I fuck you, it need not be so personal.”
At that, your heart thuds in your chest.
Before you can think it through, you try to slap him. He catches your wrists, dispassionate and unflinching as you struggle against him. “Enough. There will be no need for…theatrics. I was given to understand that those of your Order are all volunteers. Is that not true in your case?”
You can’t help your wide-eyed expression. It is an open secret that many young men and women were pressed into this sort of service, and your Order is no exception-- but nobody spoke that secret aloud. And it certainly wasn’t brazenly stated by an Imperial Grand Admiral to his new companion. You nod in confirmation, hoping that this isn’t some sort of trap or game to get you to admit something he could punish you for.
“I see,” he says, considering for a moment. “Then, you have a choice to make. An unwilling partner is of little use to me.”
You wrench against his grip, but it’s futile. “Oh so I guess that makes it all right then. You don’t want to— to fuck me but you’re going to anyway,” you say hotly. He doesn’t rise to the accusation, merely waits for a beat, allowing you to continue. When you say nothing more, he speaks.
“As I said, I would prefer your cooperation, but it is not required. However, there are… complexities… to our situation. Our Emperor—“
“Your Emperor.”
“--Will expect me to fully enjoy the gift he has given me. This is not in question. He will know, if I do not take you to bed. I have no intention of slighting him by refusing his generosity.”
“But how would he know! Couldn’t you just tell him that you have?”
“No,” he says, his voice cold and soft.
You stare at him for a moment, breath catching suddenly at how close you are, and then you start struggling again. “Let go of me!”
His hands tighten around your wrists like shackles, squeezing so hard it feels like your bones grind together.
“Please!” A note of panic, breath tight in your chest. It had been your last, foolish hope that whoever you were given to would be understanding, would find the whole practice barbaric. “Just let me go, pretend I ran away, just leave me somewhere!”
Thrawn, evidently, is not that person.
“Think,” he presses, red eyes flashing with impatience, though he reins back in to calm just as quickly. “Under what circumstances might you leave my service?”
It takes a moment for you to realize that this is not a rhetorical question. Most of the time Mirri and Solis had considered answers to such questions as just another form of backtalk, worthy of punishment.
“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer,” he says, rather sharply.
Another trap? You try to gather your thoughts, calm your breathing, but your pulse is wild with high emotion, and your voice shakes. “I could… run away.”
“Yes. What else?”
You draw in a deep breath, and smell the starch and wool of his uniform. “You could let me go.”
He nods but stays silent, expectant. A third option? You frown, then venture: “someone else takes me. Without your permission. Steals me away.”
“Indeed.”
Your mind flashes to the ones who were returned broken and maimed. “I could misbehave,” you say, with a touch of defiance.
“Yes, you could,” he agrees. “The circumstances of you leaving my ship would be altogether unpleasant, but more so for you than for me. You are a gift that cannot be refused, so your removal would be necessitated by your own behavior. Now, what do you imagine the consequences would be like?”
You swallow thickly and shake your head, unable to find the words.
“At best, placed with somebody else with less concern for your… consent. At worst…” his voice trails off, letting you reach the obvious conclusion silently.
He is right, which is all the more infuriating to admit because of the matter-of-fact way he had stated it. Gifts who came back were, if deemed ‘salvageable’, subjected to months of remedial conditioning and then reassigned, almost always to someone less desirable than the previous recipient. Lower ranking, or particularly hideous or cruel. It was whispered that there was one Outer Rim Governor whose appetite for a fresh face had been the demise of at least four Gifts.
“There are functions, too,” he adds quietly, with just a hint of something in his voice that you imagine to be embarrassment or reluctance, “ that I will be expected to attend, with you by my side.”
“And by functions you mean…?”
“You might call it a party. Others who have been recipients of the Emperor’s goodwill would also be there, with their gifts. We will be… observed.”
He waits for that to sink in.
No… You have an idea of what he means, and it makes your blood run cold.
“It is imperative that we demonstrate our appreciation of His generosity.”
Your stomach turns. Not quite ready to confront the reality of what he’s telling you. “Can’t you just send a ‘thank you’ holo or something?”
He remains silent.
“How… how many people?”
“Hundreds.”
“Hundreds…” you repeat hollowly. “Observed… doing what? Having dinner together? Do you fuck me right there on the table between courses or could we get away with waiting until after the meal and finding a dark corner?”
Thrawn says nothing for a moment, just gives you a rather irritated look. “Understand,” he says flatly, “that I did not ask for you. You are a distraction.”
You have to swallow down the insult of this rejection.
“Then leave me at some spaceport. Outer Rim, I don’t care.” You say, voice cracking. One more try, even though he’s already convinced you of the futility of it all.
“I did not say I don’t want you. But— as I said, I cannot. If I let you escape, I show incompetence, and lack of control over those in my care. If I let you go, it would be seen as rejecting the Emperor’s goodwill, disobeying his command, even.”
It clicks in your mind, then. If you do not give him a certain degree of cooperation, it could hurt his career and reputation— whatever that might be. He is concerned enough to mention it, though his attempts to cajole you into compliance so far have been baffling. This strange Grand Admiral claims to have no regard for your wishes but he is actually trying to convince you instead of ripping off your clothes and holding you down. He’s taken the time to explain it all and seems to want you to understand his reasoning.
You take a deep breath, trying to slow your heart pounding. Thrawn still holds you close, and he is so tall his rank plaque is just above eye level for you.
“The embroidery on your robe and veil — tell me about it.”
This catches you off guard. “I—it’s part of our traditional— I don’t know what to call it. Our uniform, I guess. It’s added during our Vigil.”
“It is very fine work.” He sounds intrigued, and picks up the hem, holding it closer to look at and brushing his thumb over the stitching. “And the other two with you before, their garments had similar work to yours, also done in the same type of thread, though not as intricate. The motifs were simpler, and the execution… adequate. This was done with great skill and care.” He grasps your wrist in such a way as to closer inspect the embroidery; it draws you clear to him so you are pressed against his body. You squirm, knowing he can feel your breasts against him, as you can feel his heavy belt, and that he’s half-hard and hot against your stomach.
“Be still,” he murmurs, making no effort to conceal his arousal. He takes a few more moments examining the work, then lets it fall.
“Now,” he says. “Will you remove your veil?”
With a cooler head, you realize he had done nothing to punish your outburst, nor any of your other little jibes. Stars, you had tried to hit him and he hadn’t even been angry about it. This doesn’t mean you’re safe with him. Doesn’t earn him even a little trust. But for now, it seems wise to acquiesce. This will be okay, or at least not so bad. He will not demean or abuse you. And he is right. There is no good way out of this, for either of you.
Heart pounding-- no one outside the cloister on Coruscant has seen your bare face in over a year-- you sweep the fabric up and over, so that it trails down your back as if you were a bride. The change in light makes you blink and squint for a moment. Thrawn leans forward, as if he can’t help himself, and strokes a lock of your hair off your face.
You try not to flinch away from him, nor to let any emotion show.
But he traces his thumb over your lips and you feel a hot prickle of tears that you can’t hold back. It would almost be easier if he were cruel.
“When they train you,” he says, voice dangerously quiet, “do they fuck you?”
You feel a pulse through your core at his question, and immediately shove the feeling down. “Why? You don’t want someone who’s been used before?” Mouthy again. His expression stays mild.
“Previous experiences do not concern me. I only wish to know what your training entailed.”
“No. They don’t. In most cases the recipients want to be able to be the first, you know, to be in control of…that.” You finish lamely, a vivid blush creeping up your neck.
“It is believed the recipient will wish to shape the desires of his companion,” Thrawn offers.
“Yes. Not because of anything like— like purity.”
He takes a moment to consider this, then asks, “are you pure?”
You blink, meeting his eyes, and immediately regret it, as you feel tears well up anew. You quickly look aside, and can see the dark edge of space out the viewport, just where it meets the muddy orange-gold of the atmosphere. “No,” you say, then look right back at him, lifting your chin. “Are you?”
One blue-black eyebrow goes up. “No.”
Then he lets you go, saying nothing more during the ride except to direct your attention to the Chimaera on approach. It is a magnificent ship, and you press against the transparisteel trying to see more of it, though its bulk quickly fills the entire view. On the underbelly of the ship is painted a huge, stylized chimaera, twin heads crossing over the wedge line. You have to restrain yourself from asking him a million questions about everything you see as you pass beneath the bow and into its massive shadow.
An escort of four TIE fighters sweeps in to escort the shuttle to the hangar bay. The distinctive high roar of their engines is somehow audible inside the shuttle. You had never understood that, though admittedly your knowledge of physics and space travel is limited. You almost ask Thrawn. He would know, and he is still standing quite close to you. You can feel him at your back, watching the same panorama, and the one time you brave a glance over your shoulder at him, his gaze is distant and his expression inscrutable.
☆ link to part 3 ☆
☆ join tag list ☆ <- this is the easiest way to make sure your request is recorded, however anyone is also welcome to dm me if they want to be added
@thrawns-babygirl @vibratingbonesbis @thrawns-teef-weef @debonaire-princess @aethersecho @exoplorationn @elc3004 @littlecrowtime @twilekchiss @saber-slutt @projectdreamwalker
#thrawn#grand admiral thrawn#thrawn fic#thrawn fanfiction#thrawn x reader#thrawn x you#thrawn x y/n#mitth'raw'nuruodo#thrawn fanfic
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The Strong Willed Empress
Chapter 3 "Cats and Dogs"
Tw; Yandere tendencies, manipulation, future NSFW, gore, toxic relationships, and other things like this.
Part 1
Part 2
The two men glared at each other as they locked eyes. Dominic held a slight growl to his voice. “You, me, Courtyard, when the sun is at its highest.” Dominic walked away, not waiting for a reply. Izacc stood there still glaring at him, ‘Mutt, this is your fault. Not mine. But very well, whomever wins gets the empress to himself.’ He stalked off to his own room.
Alun walked away from the corner when he heard the men go into their rooms. Thankfully, the concubines didn’t stall any longer than they had. Of course, he had heard the threating tones and razor sharp words that were being shared between the two men, however… the empress doesn’t have to know just yet. Dominic and Izacc need to be taught a lesson, after all.
Dominic was in the Courtyard before the sun was at its peak, hoping that he could plan to win in peace. When the idea of tripping him came to mind, he picked up some random objects that were laid across the courtyard after a training session with the top guards. It was a hot, humid, horrid day. Sweat was dripping off of him as if he were a leaking water pump.
Dominic’s fingers touched the metal piece of equipment to move it. The heat made it unbearable to touch, burning his hand. But this is more than fine. A little heat is just what he needed to get his blood pumping. Izacc entered through the large, heavy doors opposite to where Dominic stood. Neither of the men were smiling. Domi goes to grab the sword laying on the ground. Zacc had his on his hip, always prepared to protect his empress.
The first clash of metal rang hard and shrill in Alun’s ear as he watched, curiously devious as the empress’ pets fought like cats and dogs down in the courtyard. He stood in watched, enjoying the breeze that floated near the balcony he was standing on, watching with little interest as blood spilled below him.
After an hour of waiting for something interesting to happen between the two. Alun left to inform the empress on what he “stumbled upon” leaving out that he watched them for a while. He turned to leave and closed the door, still hearing the clashing of sword and shouting that the men were doing.
At a quick pace, he raced to the Empress’ room, where she sat drinking some herbal tea to calm herself from the letter she had received later that day.
“Empress, Izacc and Dominic, they are in the courtyard!” Alun said, as he burst through the door. The Empress pulled the curtains away from her window. What she saw angered her.
“Stop them. Bring them to the throne room.” She said it with such a cold tone, Alun shivered. The punishment must be great if you’re sending them to the throne room. Alun then walked away from her room. She was still looking out her window, seeing her beloved concubines fighting like rapid animals. She glanced at the letter she hadn’t finished writing.
“King Afonso Amos of Zandonia,
The offer you purposed would be beneficial to both of us. An alliance between two great monarchs. A wise decision on your part to offer it. Already better than over half of the allies I have.”
The Empress picked up the quill and the parchment and began to write.
“I accept the proposal between me and your son, Thiago Amos. He is to be my concubine in a week’s time.”
Part 4
coauthor- @abrokecupoftea
Taglist: @meforpr3sident @zanary
#yandere boys#yandere#yandere boy#prince#yanderes#concubines#empress#oc#reverse harem#yandere x reader#the strong willed empress#TSWE#sub yandere#concubine au
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I am sorry for your recent Anon hate, but I was wondering if I could make a Request.
You know how long Thranduil's Cloak/Robe/Coat thing is, can you write something were the reader falls asleep on it and Thranduil doesn't know until he hears a groan of pain and he looks back to the bottom of the stairs where the end of it to see the reader.
:)
Thank you
Hello, First of all Thank you for the Request and This is the kick off to Request November a blog special I hope to run every November as a little special thing.
Of All The Things
Summery: Anon Ask
Pairing: Thranduil x Reader
Warning: Non
Reader Pronouns: All
Thranduil hardly registered the extra weight on his cloak, he didn't even think to check what he was, he was sure it was just a twig or a stone which fell or rolled onto it somehow, he always left his cloak laid out extravagantly in a lot of places such as his throne, his study, his desk in the massive private library he had, private training grounds.
this was one of the times he left it over the small easy to step over more of a seat wall in the royal training grounds, not many people were allowed accesses, the Galion, The Kingsguard commanders, Captain of the border guard, Legolas of course, the nobles who were close in Thranduils council and he trusted with his life and of course his shield his sworn protector even if he was defiant of his father at first when Oropher installed the idea he so let it go Legolas had Tauriel always 3 feet behind him so Thranduil never saw the need to give Legolas a Devoted one.
but his shield never used the training grounds the only time you were ever in their was for giving Thranduil reports, this time however you decided to go in and tidy up the equipment the king had used.
You never wanted to admit it out loud but the once shy anxious prince who was now a confident king had stolen your heart, as much as it pained you to carry the burden of knowing Thranduil would never know your feelings it felt better than to tell him and for him to ignore it and completely shut you down and keep you away from him and re assign you to the wandering patrol which almost never came back to the city unless their supplys run short or the border guard forgot to restock their hidden camps and supply hide outs, you would never guess how many hollow trees their are with those camps and supplys in them.
given how most of the halls where filled with stairs and winding paths Thranduil was quick to find out the rock was infact no rock, he slightly moved his cloak so he could see what was at the end of the long trail to see the all to familiar hair and clothing of you, the groan was also a slight giveaway.
"Is that comfortable for you, because i highly doubt it is" Thranduil said making you have a rude awakening.
"Aran nin I- forgive me I did not mean to" You said The king cut you off
"If you ever need a break just tell me I can survive without you for a few days where I am just in my halls nothing bad can get in here, your job must really be boring at times like these when i do not leave my halls" Thranduil said
"Their is a lot more my job entails than you may realize" you said Thranduil raised an eyebrow
"Oh, please do enlighten me in seeing if falling asleep on my clothes is one of them" Thranduil said
"Well no, Aran Oropher said I must stick near you but in times like these become your shadow, watch you without you knowing, clear away after you, fetch stuff you require, give you reports fill paper work out" You said
"You still work by my fathers rule book even after it has been an age since he passed" Thranduil questioned
"I- yes apart from one thing which was report back to him at the end of the day and tell him what you had done that day" You said
"You were the way my Ada spied on me" Thranduil said
"Well not exactly thats g- someone elses job they babysit you, i simply watch and protect" You said the king raised an eyebrow
"Fine keep your secrets, but why did you fall asleep on my cloak" Thranduil questioned
"I- er you smell really nice" you said
"Thats not an answer" Thranduil said
"If you think about it, it is" you said quickly hurrying away
"Y/n wait" Thranduil said you ignored him and kept walking Thranduil sighed he knew very much what you could be implying with that statement or you could be implying nothing to do with that, Thranduil ended up leaving it alone which you were greatful for.
Elvish Translation:
Ada - Father
Aran - King
#thranduil#thranduil x reader#tolkien#jrr tolkien#tolkien x reader#middle earth x reader#middle earth#the hobbit#lord of the rings#tolkien elves#elves#mirkwood elves#thranduil of mirkwood#mirkwood#king thranduil#thranduil oropherion
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Relinquish Your Burden: Chapter 3
Word Count: 3.1k
It was clear that winter had arrived in New York.
After picking out his fur cape, Thor made sure to button Love into her warm jacket and fur-lined boots. The two of them stood at the hatch of their ship, the wind swirling through their hair and snow catching in their eyelashes.
It had been many years since Thor had last been to the Midgardian metropolis. He hadn’t been keen on returning, but his ship picked up on a distress signal about a mid-level invasion, and he had sworn that the Earth was under his protection.
The city would always remind him of fighting against Loki and his—no, Thanos’s —army of Chitauri. It brought forth the ache of fighting his brother, whom at the time he had recently believed dead. Not that it would be the last time.
In retrospect, he could not help but realize that although that time had been painful, all the people he had loved and lost had still been alive.
His father. Odin had been the one who used dark energy to send him to Midgard with the objective of stopping Loki by any means necessary.
His mother. Before he departed, Frigga had imparted her own wishes to him: "Bring him home, Thor."
Loki. Initially, he had hoped that his brother could be reasoned with. He soon learned just how deep Loki’s resentment ran.
"Did you mourn?" Loki mocked.
"We all did. Our father-"
Loki cut him off with a finger. "Your father. He did tell you my true parentage, did he not?"
Thor had soon found himself somewhere between demanding and pleading.
"You give up the Tesseract! You give up this poisonous dream! You come home."
His words almost seemed to get through to Loki, his eyes shining with emotion before he huffed out a humorless laugh. Schooling his features into indifference, his next words crumbled Thor's resolve.
"I don't have it."
After his initial inquiries about Jane’s whereabouts, Agent Coulson had told him that S.H.I.E.L.D. had moved her to Norway during the battle, effectively keeping her out of harm's way. Although it became a point of contention in their relationship, he had been relieved that she was safe.
A lump formed in Thor's throat. He should have spent more time with her while he still had the chance. The fresh grief from her loss was still so close to the surface. How precious and fleeting human lives were.
"I mean to rule them, as why should I not?"
"You think yourself above them."
"Well, yes," Loki replied.
"Then you miss the truth of ruling, Brother. A throne would suit you ill."
He had not always believed this of Loki. During his banishment on Earth—after Thor realized just how incompatible his temperament and desires actually were for a would-be king—he came to the realization that his brother had been better suited to the throne all along. He had been cunning where Thor was guileless, quick where Thor was clumsy. Loki never lost sight of the bigger picture, while Thor let any small or imagined slights lure him into tunnel vision.
Although he had not been on Asgard when their father told Loki his true heritage, it was painfully clear how much his little brother had been affected. What had their parents been thinking, not telling the two of them something so vital? It would not have been the family-splintering reveal that it had become if Odin and Frigga had not let their children believe that Frost Giants were heartless monsters. How could they allow that, while knowing full well that Loki was one?
In the end, it had taken Loki until the end of his shortened life to finally accept himself as he was.
"I, Loki, prince of Asgard…"
His gaze landed meaningfully on Thor. "Odinson…
The rightful king of Jotunheim…"
~
"Uncle Thor!"
Thor was jolted from his memories, hastily wiping a tear from his eye. Now was not the time to grieve the past. Sprawled out below their ship was a large snow-blanketed park crawling with the brown-shelled bodies of a band of Procyonites. According to the intel from the distress signal, the rogue group was working for themselves, and set on using New York's power grid to recharge their ship. If the human screams from down below were any indication, the Procyonites were not asking nicely.
"Alright Love, we've got to take these brown-shelled guys down to protect the nice humans. Are you up for that?" She nodded. "You take that group by the trees there, and I'll take the ones by the statue." He handed her Stormbreaker. “Just call for me if you need any help."
And just like that, they leaped off of their ship-turned-home and launched into the battle.
Thor felt himself relax. It was all so familiar, the adrenaline, the comforting swing of Mjolnir, the muscle memory kicking in. Fighting grounded him, for there was no room to think of the past or the future in the throes of battle.
Suddenly, a flash of green caught his eye. Loki must have just taken down an opponent—
He froze, his heart falling through his stomach. Loki was dead. For certain this time. He was imagining things since he had just been thinking of him. He tried to refocus on defending himself from the ire of his current Procyonite opponent, but the distraction had cost him. Just as he braced himself for the incoming blow, another burst of green light had the creature slumping to the ground.
Thor blinked.
Before him stood a blonde woman with a steely countenance. She appeared to be wearing some sort of battered imitation of Loki's Asgardian leathers. When they made eye contact, she just smirked and spun around to take down another opponent, this time with her machete.
Thor's body finally caught up with his racing thoughts, and he threw Mjolnir at the Procyonite, knocking it unconscious. Before the woman could get away, he reached out, catching her wrist.
"Who are you" he demanded, eyes flashing dangerously, "and how do you have my brother's magic."
She managed to twist her wrist out of his iron grip, but didn't move to get away. Placing her hands on her hips, she asked "What makes you think it's Loki's magic and not my own?"
Thor narrowed his eyes, and the ends of the woman's hair began to levitate from static electricity. "Because your whole getup is obviously modeled after his.” Pausing to take her in fully, he added, “Though you look more like some faded photocopy of him if anything."
The woman huffed and rolled her eyes. "That's exactly what he said."
In the blink of an eye, Thor had her shoved against a tree." What did you just say?" Thunder boomed nearby.
She sighed, seemingly exasperated. "I've met your brother. Real charmer."
"Have care for how you speak of the dead," Thor growled menacingly.
Her face softened toward something akin to sympathy. "Your Loki may be dead, but the one I met isn't."
This sent Thor's mind reeling, but he managed to keep her pinned in place. "You speak as if you believe there to be more than one Loki of Asgard."
At this, the corner of her mouth twitched. Eyes glinting, she asked, "Have you ever heard of the multiverse?"
---
Mobius's eyebrows rose at his unexpected company.
"Sylvie- what?"
"Where are we?" asked the young girl. She looked familiar, but Mobius was having a hard time remembering her name.
Thor looked down at her kindly before he glanced back up at Sylvie, eyes hardening. "I'm not sure, but this woman knows something about your Uncle Loki, and I intend to find out what."
Suddenly, Mobius remembered. She was Love, Thor's adopted daughter, Gorr's wish from the Altar of Eternity. As the TVA's former expert in the pursuit of dangerous Variants, he had carefully monitored Gorr's timeline and even brought in a handful of Gorr Variants. All of the dangerous ones had watched their daughter die in their arms.
"But Uncle Loki died, right?"
Sylvie cut in, directing her reply at Thor. "Your Loki died, yes. But in the multiverse, he was one of many."
"You expect me to believe that there are multiple versions of everyone just running about?"
Mobius laughed hollowly as Thor’s eyes snapped to him. "Back at the TVA, we called them Variants."
Sylvie's face hardened briefly at the term, but she recovered quickly. Before Thor had the chance to ask what the TVA was, she redirected the conversation. "Would it help if I proved to you that time travel is real?"
"Oh, I know it is, I've done it myself," Thor responded smugly. "You have to get into a time travel suit and get sucked into some sort of quantum portal. It's how we Avengers reversed Thanos's snap."
"Funnily enough, that's actually how our Loki" Mobius gestured to himself and Sylvie, "came to the TVA in the first place-"
Sylvie elbowed him in the arm and hissed "You're getting ahead of yourself, let me do the talking." He rolled his eyes but allowed her to continue. She looked back at Thor. "What if I told you that we just time traveled and you didn't even realize it?"
Thor scoffed. "I remember that particular sensation quite well, I assure you. I would have realized."
"Oh would you?" Sylvie smirked. "Then why are the three of us on live TV?" She gestured to the news broadcast. Sure enough, Thor, Love, and Sylvie were on screen, fighting the Procyonites in New York.
"Woah," breathed Love. Thor's eyes widened as he took it all in.
"The orange doorway we stepped through—was time travel?"
"'Fraid so," Mobius answered calmly. He was used to having to explain the TVA to the Variants he would interrogate. The reminder of the cruel orders that he'd blindly followed left a twinge of guilt in his chest.
"Alright, so how did you meet this Variant of my brother? You said it had to do with the Avengers time traveling?"
Sylvie nodded at Mobius, and he sighed. "Alright, everyone have a seat. I'll start from the beginning."
~
"Wait, you were the fugitive Loki Variant?"
Sylvie spread her arms wide. "In the flesh," she smarmed, "but if you ever call me Loki I'll make you regret it. I'm Sylvie now, have been for longer than you've been alive."
"So that's how you are able to wield Loki's magic!"
Sylvie glowered. "Like I said before, it's my magic. But yes, it's quite similar to Loki's."
Mobius continued telling the story, with interjections from Sylvie for the parts he hadn't been there for and the explanation of her motives for freeing the timeline. She seemed particularly tense and distant when recounting what happened in the Citadel, and Mobius didn't push her for details. All that she or Loki had said was that they'd fought, and she'd kicked him through a Time Door into the past so that she could kill He Who Remains. Even so, it was abundantly clear to Mobius that the two of them cared about each other.
"And then came the problem with the Temporal Loom," he sighed.
~
"Sylvie, are you gonna explain your plan now? Ya kinda left me hanging when you disappeared off on your little side trip to fight aliens in New York with Thor and Love."
On hearing his daughter's name, Thor instinctively wrapped his arm around her shoulders. The gesture was endearing, but Mobius knew he'd done it on instinct, uncomfortable that Mobius knew her name without an introduction. Talking to TVA agents tended to have that effect on people.
"Right," Sylvie replied. "Like we just said, Loki sacrificed any life he could have had to go hold the branches of time together, and with them, he created a multiversal Yggdrasil. I opened a Time Door to its location," she glanced apologetically toward Mobius, "and after seeing and feeling its power, I'm almost certain that Loki’s Yggdrasil can sustain itself, just like an actual tree. I think Loki was just the catalyst, and he should be able to leave."
Mobius's thoughts began racing. If Sylvie was right and Loki really was able to leave, why hadn't he come back? He couldn't possibly want to sit there isolated from everything, could he? Or worse, what if he had returned to one of the timelines but let them all believe that he was still there, holding the branches? After all they'd been through together, it seemed unlikely. Still, unease pooled in his gut.
From the second Loki had disappeared through that portal, the vast majority of Mobius's thoughts had centered around how to get him back without risking the timelines. He'd never even stopped to consider the possibility that Loki wouldn't come back if given the opportunity.
He’d at least thought Loki would be doing everything he could to get back to Sylvie. It seemed like the majority of the time Mobius had spent with him had involved chasing after her for one reason or another. He’d spent years convincing himself he wasn’t bitter about it. The two of them deserved to be happy together if given the chance.
Breaking the contemplative silence that had descended on the group, Mobius voiced some of his thoughts. "If he's able to come back, why hasn't he?"
"It matters not. If what you say is true, we cannot let him remain there." Thor said resolutely. "If there's a chance I could see him again…" He trailed off, eyes glazed with emotion and distant memories.
Mobius looked toward Sylvie for her reaction. She was fidgeting with the cuff of her sleeve, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. Finally, she looked up.
"I couldn't tell you why he hasn't come back, but I get the feeling it has to do with his mindset. Knowing Loki, he's probably convinced himself of something, and is too stubborn to see past it without someone calling bullshit."
Mobius nodded, and when he saw Thor doing the same he flashed the god a sad smile. Thor returned the gesture with a feeble one of his own. If anyone was as familiar with Loki's stubborn streak as Mobius, it was Thor. He'd spent years trying to convince Loki that his adoption and species didn't make him any less of an Odinson. It had taken Loki until his death on the Sacred Timeline to come around.
Love's small voice broke through the weight of emotions blanketing the room. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go get him!"
The young girl's words spurred Thor into action. "Love is right, let us not waste any more time attempting to decipher Loki's motivations when we can go ask him ourselves." He stood up and summoned Mjolnir from the coffee table. Then he looked down at Love and shot a concerned glance toward Sylvie. "I swore to protect my daughter, and I do not wish to put her in any unforeseen danger." Love shot him an indignant glare. "Are you certain it's safe?"
Suddenly, Mobius remembered walking down the gangway with the Temporal Aura Extractor in the bulky TVA suit, terrified of losing his skin. The temporal radiation wasn't an issue now that the Loom was gone, but…
"Yeah, it's safe," Sylvie confirmed. "There's nothing there but the timelines and empty space."
"Uh guys," Mobius interjected. "I know you all have godly powers and physiology to keep you from immediately freezing into a popsicle when you're out in space, but my lack of powers and very human physiology won't do me any favors out there."
"Not to worry, I have space suits back on my ship, and you are welcome to use one," Thor responded easily. He looked pointedly at Sylvie. "Can you open one of those time travel doors to get us there?"
~
Back in New York, everyone boarded Thor's ship (which was still hovering above Central Park, right where they left it). Just before the hatch closed, Mobius caught a glimpse of Doctor Stephen Strange opening a cluster of portals to send the Procyonites and their uncharged ship somewhere far away.
Thor slid into the cockpit and took off, looking for a safe place to land. Love led Mobius and Sylvie to the collection of space suits, giving the pair an impromptu tour along the way.
"...And here are the space suits!" She explained happily while pointing at a compartment filled with sleek suits of varying bright colors. To Mobius's relief, they were nothing like the bulky temporal radiation suit at the TVA. "Uncle Thor insists on having them since he has mortal friends, including humans like Jane."
Mobius reached into the compartment, his fingers brushing against the green suit. Was that too on the nose?
When he looked up, Love was watching Mobius, her stormy blue eyes a little too assessing for comfort. "You love my Uncle Loki, don't you."
Mobius froze, his heart skipping a beat. "What?" He chuckled nervously, heat rising to his cheeks. He was intensely aware of Sylvie's gaze on him. "Of course I do, he's my friend."
Love tilted her head to the side. "Yeah, but it's more than that, right? Earlier, you were talking about Loki like Uncle Thor talks about Jane. It's different from how he talks about his dead friends and family."
Had this kid really figured out what Mobius had been repressing for years that easily?
"Sorry hun, but Loki and I are just friends."
He looked to Sylvie for backup, but she just flashed him a knowing look, the corner of her lip quirking slightly.
Chagrined, Mobius attempted to change the subject. "I'm gonna go check on Thor, see if I can help him find a landing spot." And with that, he grabbed the blue suit and headed toward the cockpit.
~
Within ten minutes they had found a grassy field in upstate New York to land and cloak the ship in. Mobius got into the suit and helmet, and Sylvie helped him with the gloves. After Mobius assured himself that there were no cracks or leaks, the four of them disembarked and stood around Sylvie's TemPad.
"Alright, I'm going to open a Time Door as close as I can get to the timelines. Once we're there, I'm going to try to use my magic to get us inside Loki's Yggdrasil. At the very least, that should get his attention." She paused, looking everyone in the eye. "Are we ready?"
Thor voiced his assent, and Mobius pushed all his anxious thoughts about Loki's motivations aside. He would find out the truth, and deal with the fallout later.
He took a deep breath. "We're ready."
-----
Notes:
Aaand we're back!!
I've been traveling with my family and didn't have access to my computer for over 3 weeks, but now that I'm back I'll be trying to update this story weekly :)
I hope you enjoyed Thor and Love's addition to the group! The reunion with Loki is FINALLY happening next chapter, so buckle up for all the feels ❤️
Side note: Procyonites are aliens from the Thor comics, described on Wikipedia as "a reptilian race with a large brown tortoise-like shell and brown scales, 6 feet 5 inches (1.96 m) in height on average."
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#loki#loki fanfic#loki s2 finale spoilers#loki spoilers#fix it fic#lokius#lokius fic#mcu loki#loki marvel#mobius#mobius m mobius#mobius mcu#loki series#mcu#marvel#brodinsons#the sun will shine on us again#relinquish your burden
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Rescuing Thor: Loki and Y/N's Misadventures
a/n: another one-shot yay! Happy Holidays everybody <3. PS I just love writing this all down in my spare time.
Warnings: fluff, smuttish - please read at your own discretion
Summary: you were relishing your married life with Loki when you receive a message that Thor has been captured and brought to Sakaar. A string of misadventures follow you as you do your rescue mission
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You woke up one fine morning and rolled to the side, only to be met by the perfect chiseled face of your dearest husband, Loki. You smiled thinking how fortunate you are to meet someone as amazing as he is, he opened his eyes to meet yours. "Good morning, darling" he mumbled. "Did I wake you up?" you asked. "maybe, and maybe you should give me a kiss to make up for it" he answered. "Always the charmer," you said as you moved on top of him to give him a nice, sweet kiss. His hand started to move toward your backside when you both hear a loud, knock on your door. "this better be worth it," frustrated, Loki grumbled.
One of the guards informed you that Odin summons you to the throne room at one. Loki rolled his eyes, and you let the guard know that you will be there shortly. You closed the door and faced Loki, "Can we have just a quick one before we go? I may be a Jotun, but I don't like having blue balls" he said. "Fine - but make it quick, silly" you grinned as you answered him.
Loki was slightly smiling as he walks towards Odin, "Good morning Father, you called us?" he asked "You seem to have a wonderful morning, son" Odin started. You started blushing from the remark. "Good morning, Allfather - may we ask why we have been summoned this early?" you bowed as you speak. Odin responded, "ah yes - we have received a message from one of your friends from Midgard. They could not get a hold of Thor after he went to Sakaar. Loki, son, can I ask for your help in bringing back your brother here, together with your lovely wife?"
"I think Thor's fine there, I don't want to be my brother's keeper --- "Loki! no - we need to bring Thor back, besides, it's a nice adventure for both of us" you interjected him. "Well, that settles it, thank you both for your help. You can leave for Sakaar once you're done with your preparations." Odin replied. Loki rolled his eyes in frustration.
You used Bifrost to travel to Sakaar, it was a bustling community toy thought. You saw an arena, plastering Thor's face as one of the challengers for the gladiator fight for today. You hurried Loki so you could go and watch there.
You arrived at the place, it was huge and full of people walking all around. You suggested to Loki that you both split up so you can find Thor faster. He blatantly refused your suggestion, but after saying the faster you find Thor, it would be faster for you both to get home and back in your bed for things he wants to do to you. You were grinning at this point, "sometimes I feel like you have more mischief in you, than the god of mischief himself" he said, "and that's why you love me" you planted a kiss on his cheek, "okay, so here's the plan - you go and do some investigations from the grandstand and I'll check the arena" you said, "that's a bad plan - should it be the other way around?" Loki cut you off "pssh - you are way of a charmer than I am, it'll be cool, no worries. Let's go now before the fight starts" you assured him "you give less credit to yourself, my love" he said as you started walking away.
For some reason, Loki ended up in the grandstand together with the grandmaster beside him. He was fidgeting - he was both nervous about getting caught, and nervous about what you will do. He could only hope so much.
You, on the other hand, ended up where the fighters are before they are sent to the arena. You saw Thor and he was surprised to see you there, "sister! are you here to watch my fight?" he beamed in a loud, booming voice as he wraps you in a hug. You returned his big hug, lifting you off of your feet "Loki's here and we're picking you up" "gotcha - but that can wait after my match right? "fine - but we need to go asap, okay?" you haven't finished talking to Thor when 2 big guards approach you both. "change of plans blondie" he faces Thor "you won't be fighting today," Thor chuckled "alright, so who will?" "she will" pointing at you. Thor protested but they strapped him up and shut his mouth with a contraption. He was wriggling the whole time.
Little did they both know, it was all part of your plan to get the prize money. You laughed to yourself. You changed into your battle armor - and strapped your weapon to your side, a pair of crimson whips with barbed ends.
Loki was anxious already and he became much more horrified when he saw a silenced Thor being wheeled in beside him. He can't communicate without the risk of being caught and he was worried about where you are. Just then the announcer declared the fighters for the day - his jaw almost reached the floor and life almost left his body when he saw you in your complete battle ensemble. You were a good fighter back home, but you are more on the study of magics and Loki tries his best to make sense of what was happening.
You were easily winning the lower stages of the fight. The grandmaster is visibly frustrated as he keeps on losing his bet. Loki tries hard not to cheer you on, and he ends up gritting his teeth and clenching his fists every time the grandmaster mocks you.
In the final stage of the fight, you faced a golem-like creature. You realized that your plant-based power won't really do much so you sheathed your whips and draw out 2 obsidian daggers - similar to what Loki has. Loki almost stood up to cheer, but the grandmaster noticed and look at him furrowing his brows.
The golem ran up to you but you were quick to evade the attack. You are looking for his weak spots to incapacitate him. You found it on his back and drove the dagger straight through - it was not enough though. Prior to all of this, you imbued your dagger with magic - and this time you decided to generate electricity to stun and incapacitate your opponent. The golem slumped down after you attacked and the people were cheering, as you raised your daggers to the sky.
Loki wasn't able to help himself and cheered you on. The realization that the grandmaster has caught on to all of your tricks, Loki grabbed Thor and dragged him to where he can possibly meet you. Grandmaster ordered the guards to capture them.
You saw what was happening from afar - you grab the sack of your prize money and ran after them to meet. You met each other and continued running until you were out of the grand arena. You used your magic to release Thor from his binds. You ran and found some inn where you can all hide.
"I'm so proud of you, but good heavens, please please do not pull off that stunt again" Loki hugged you tightly as he says these words. You were surprised and returned the hug back. "I know, I'm sorry for making you worry - I love you". Loki wanted to respond but Thor cut him off to say that he is very thankful for rescuing him. Apparently, he lost contact with everyone and he can't call out to Bifrost for some reason. You rest assured you all have that in place and called out on Heimdall to bring you all back to Asgard. A beam of light picked all of your three up and you open your eyes to see Asgard.
All three of you walked to the throne to meet Odin, and after a few pleasantries, he thank you both for saving Thor. Thor will be resting in Asgard for the day but he must return to Midgard to let them know that he is safe.
You and Loki returned to your matrimonial room and that's the only time he realized that you brought back with you a huge sack of Sakaar gold, from winning the fight. "Oh, you cheeky --- so that's why" Loki exclaimed as he looks at the prize. "Well, it's not just that. I wanted to try fighting too." you laughed as you roll your eyes. "Darling, let's both get washed up and I'll give you a fight where you end up yielding to me" as he guides you to the washroom while planting little kisses on your nape
#loki of asgard#loki fanfic#loki x y/n#loki x reader#loki laufeyson#thor odinson#loki fanfiction#loki fluff#loki x female reader#loki x you
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A Recipe for Disaster (Chap. 6)
Pt. 1 | Pt.2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | on AO3 here
“Robin! Robin, wake up, dammit!”
“Steve? What the hell? What time is it?”
“Robin, look.” Steve thrusts the note into her face
Blinking blearily, she manages to clear the sleep from her face and reads the note “Oh my god?” she says as if she knows she should be reacting, but doesn’t know why.
“Robin, he went back and took care of Sandy.”
She blinks at him twice. “I’m not following.”
Steve launches into what happened after Sandy ran off, how Eddie followed just to make more fun of Steve.
“Wait, hold on, that’s what you got from that?
“Uh yeah?”
“So the man races after you, who is on a terrified horse’s back, on foot (“He did?”), was the first one to get to you, and you think he did that just to give you your hat back and make fun of you?”
“Why else would he do that?”
She shrugs, “Maybe he’s got a crush on you? At the very least he cares about you.”
“He does NOT have a crush on me; and really? ‘Crush’? What are we, twelve?”
“Like I said, he at least cares about you. Did you not hear what I said? After being one of two people to rush forward and try to calm Sandy, he took off running after you. On foot. In damn dress shoes that probably cost a million dollars by themselves.”
Steve’s quiet. Silently willing himself to keep any sort of hope at bay.
“That’s not what’s happening. He’s trying to weasel his way in and throw me off.”
“Steve–”
“No, why else would he leave a passive aggressive note like this?” Steve stands and starts stomping back and forth in front of Robin’s bed. “‘She’s feeling better now, hope you are too.’? Obviously he’s insinuating that I can’t look after my own horse or myself.”
“Oh my god.” Robin groans, throwing her hands over her face and falling back on the bed. “Fine Steve, you win. He’s the big bad wolf and has zero other feelings besides ‘passive aggression towards Stephan Artur Harrington-Renaldi’. Can I get back to sleep now?”
“Robs, you keep poking fun at it, but the whole reason he’s here and even a factor in my life at all is because he’s literally trying to overthrow me. You say he cares, I say he’s pretending to to get me to let my guard down so the literal over-throwing part will be that much easier.”
She huffs out a long sigh, “Okay fine, I admit that could be a possibility.” she says, and sits back up “But can you admit that my thing may also be just as true?”
Steve thought it all back over again.. “I thought we made a real connection on my birthday, before I knew who he was, I don’t think you can fake that.”
“Yeah you really were down bad almost immediately.”
“Shut up. But then I find out he’s trying to take the throne, and that immediately puts the brakes on any feelings.. I was crushed Robs.”
“Yeah Dingus, I know. I was there while you wallowed that time, remember?”
“He looked so innocent when I saw him in his room that time, just a real person with a real hobby.”
“Your Peeping Tom moment, yes, I remember.”
“Then he was totally flirting with me when Dustin found us in that closet. But again, he could just be faking it more in order to throw me off.”
Steve’s head hurts.
“And now we’re here. Post-disaster. Post-’Eddie risking bodily harm to calm a literal giant of a horse and save Dingus then runs full speed after Dingus to make sure he’s okay’, post-’Eddie comforts Dingus’, and post-’Eddie leaves Dingus a love note’.”
Steve stares at her, slack-jawed.
“Robin, does Eddie have feelings for me?”
Her look softens at his tone, “I don’t know Dingus, you’d have to ask him.” She throws her covers off and steps up to hug him tight around the middle. “Though, if I was a betting man, I’d bet on it.”
He returns her embrace, “Not everything I hope.”
She shrugs, “I’ll keep you posted.”
–
The morning following the reviewing of the guard, Eddie finds himself outside Prime Minister Henderson’s office door. His stomach a rat’s nest of nerves, he gives a quick succession of knocks to the heavy wooden door.
“Come in!” Wayne’s gruff but friendly voice replies.
Eddie opens the door and sees his Uncle’s face scrunch into confusion.
“Eddie?” he hefts himself up from his seat to stand as Eddie enters the office.
“Hi Uncle Wayne, long time no speak.”.
“Please come in, sit down, is everything alright son?”
Oof, leave it to Wayne to hit him with the ‘son’ right off the bat. “Not entirely.” Eddie closes the door behind him and sits down in front of his Uncle.
“Uncle Wayne, I need your help.” Eddie puts his palm up to stop Wayne when he goes to speak. “Wait; let me apologize first. I’m sorry I haven’t stayed in better contact, I don’t have an excuse for anything that’s happened in the last few years. I thought dad knew best and only recently found a reason to believe otherwise.
The reason should have been you every other time you’d been in my corner, should have been your new family, the one I should have made the slightest effort to know, it should have been our last conversation, but it wasn’t. It’s–”
“It’s the prince isn’t it?” Wayne cuts him off.
“What? How did you kn–” Eddie clears his throat, “What makes you think it was Steve?”
“A hunch. Also, you just called him ‘Steve’.”
Eddie balks at Wayne’s crooked mischievous smile. “You bastard, how do you know me so well?”
“Eddie, my boy, I’ve always seen you as a son to me. You know that right?”
Suddenly, Eddie’s cheeks are wet, and some of his hair is already sticking to his face. He’d left it loose but now he’s gonna be stuck swiping tear-soaked locks from his face for the rest of, what he’d been hoping would be, a serious conversation.
“Oh, Eddie…” Wayne once again hefts himself out of his chair and circles around his desk as quickly as he can while Eddie remains rooted in his seat.
Wayne’s arms are around him in no time at all, but Eddie’s heaving sobs by time he does, wrapping his arms around his uncle.
“Eddie, you were always too good for my no-good brother. I’ve always believed that.” Wayne’s rubbing soothing circles on his back. “I thought I’d lost you to that son-of-a—” Wayne clears his throat and Eddie smiles into his shoulder, “I’d always hoped you’d break out from under him and find your own way.”
“But you have Dustin now,” Eddie’s voice is small “Why care at all?”
Wayne pulls back and crouches in front of his nephew, pulling a hair tie and a handkerchief from his pocket as he does, and hands them over. Eddie takes them, and the new round of sobs that come with the gesture as he shakily pulls his hair back away from his face.
“You were there first.” Wayne grins at him and Eddie is grinning around smaller sobs and sniffles.
“Now, what do you need, son?”
“Honestly Wayne? I think it was this. I came here to ask for your advice. And to tell you what it is my father is plotting.”
Wayne nods, and circles back around his desk to take his seat. “Hopper told me his suspicions about what happened yesterday.”
“Well he kept the snake, if that tells you anything.”
--
Dustin accompanied Steve to Prime Minister Henderson’s office the morning after the review, intending on stopping there to let him know where Joyce will meet him for their next meeting before heading to the kitchens for breakfast with Max, Robin, and Nancy.
“It’s no problem at all, Aunt Joyce, we’re heading past there anyway so it’ll be super quick.” Steve had assured her.
“Thank you dear, you are a lifesaver; Wayne’s notorious for never checking his email so if there’s a change, he must be told in person or he’ll never show up to anything.”
Dustin gave Joyce a big toothy grin “Yes ma’am, that sounds like him. We’ll let him know.”
Stopping outside Wayne’s door, Steve wasn’t entirely surprised to hear voices from the other side, Wayne’s deep one accompanied by another slightly less deep one. He gave a questioning look to Dustin, who shrugged then short rap to the door.
“Come in!” Wayne called
Steve pushed open the door and upon seeing him Wayne stood and so did..Eddie?
“Apologies for intruding, Prime Minister, Lord Edmund, I was on my way through to breakfast and her majesty asked me to let you know that your 2pm conference was moved into the parliament chambers. She knew you wouldn’t have seen the email.” Steve gave Wayne a smile and a short wink.
Wayne smiled warmly back at him, eyes crinkling, “Thank you your highness, I will be sure to be there.”
Wayne gave a short bow, and Steve risked a glance at Eddie. He looked calm and collected, but his eyes looked wrecked, deep circles beneath them and slightly bloodshot. The fact that those eyes had already been boring into Steve before he’d spared a glance to the curly-haired brunette made Steve’s heart jump into his throat and look away just as quickly as he had laid eyes on him.
“Awesome! Thanks Mr. Henderson. I’ll let her know I was able to tell you.”
“Wayne, your highness; Wayne is just fine.”
“No can do Mr. Henderson,” Steve was already ushering Dustin back out the door “You’ll be Wayne when you just call me Steve!”
“Touché, your highness.” he said with a laugh “Bye Dustin.”
“Bye Dad! Bye Eddie!” Dustin waved around Steve, who was closing the door.
As soon as it was, Dustin said “What was that all about? Wayne’s not that scary, there’s no need to feel like you need to escape. And you didn’t even say bye to Eddie.”
“Yeah, but you did, what’s with that? You know he’s trying to overthrow me right?” Steve started walking, and Dustin followed.
“He’s a good guy, you just gotta give him a chance.” Steve scoffed at that but Dustin continued “I’m serious, Steve.”
“You just like him because he plays that nerdy game of yours.”
“That’s not it, he’s als_wait, how’d you know he plays??”
Oh shit. Steve feels his face burning up “Uhm, I saw you guys when you did finally play.” Dustin looks absolutely floored. “I was passing by and caught a part of the game, you seemed to be having fun.”
“Well yeah, we were. ‘Cause Eddie’s fun. And a cool dude.”
Steve scoffed non-committedly and they continued in silence for a moment.
“He looked sad.” Steve whispered, almost just to himself.
Dustin looked at Steve incredulously, but must’ve seen something in his face that kept him from saying anything snarky, just replying with “Yeah, you’re right. He did.”
--
“Edmund, can I ask you a question?” Queen Joyce asks him. She’s sitting beside where he’s been baking up batches of cookies for the hoard of teens he’s found himself with lately. M&M for Dustin and Max, chocolate chip for Mike (and for the young Lord and Lady Sinclair, when they did end up joining the party), and oatmeal raisin for the wonder twins.
How they’ve managed to get him wrapped around their fingers this quickly is truly astounding.
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
Joyce gestures for him to sit beside her at the small table in the kitchen where she’d planted herself next to the hot baking sheets. He does, and she continues, “Why are you so against Steve becoming king?”
Eddie isn't. Far from it. He can’t explain why he doesn’t just tell her as much, but he says “My father feels that Prince Steve does not know the people.”
“And feel that you do? Know the people?”
“Well yes, I was born here, I went to primary school here…I am a true Genovian. Steve didn’t even know he was Genovian until much later and my father believes he’s spent too little time here since then.”
“Well I happen to think he will be a great ruler. He’s incredibly kind, sensitive, caring…”
“I know that.” Eddie whispers, not meaning to respond to the queen at all. Oops.
“You do?” She’s shocked.
“Yes. Yes I_I do, but, in his words, ‘how can one rule the people, if they do not know the people?’.”
Joyce smiles, “Touché, that’s a very good question.”
–
Being 100% honest, this is not what he thought would come of his conversation with Joyce. She really took the ‘not knowing the people’ part literally, and now here he was at a garden party not two days later, Steve bouncing between groups of people, smiling, tall, bright, and handsome, Prince Charming himself. In a pastel pink suit no less.
Chrissy caught him gawking, “Ah, so this is the unfortunate object of your affections?”
“Rude. Why are my affections unfortunate?”
Chrissy shrugs, giving him a shit eating grin.
He’d invited his good friend Lady Cunningham to accompany him, hoping to introduce her to Steve; help out with his ‘knowing the people’ any way he can. Chrissy was very influential to the affairs of dignitaries of all walks, she was sweet and charming and hadn’t met a single person she’d not got on with. Not even his father could resist her charms and consistently berated Eddie for not “hitching his wagon to that one”.
“And to think I was going to marry you.” Eddie shook his head and got an elbow to the ribs.
“Shut up, E! Someone will hear you and think it’s real.” Chrissy whispers, “You know people have already started ‘shipping’ us because you refuse to ask anyone else to be your date to these kinds of events.”
“You’re the one who keeps accepting!” He whispers back. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’d want all this for real.” Eddie gestures to himself and waggles his eyebrows at her.
Chrissy’s loud laugh calls the attention of almost the whole garden, some people hiding their own laughter when she starts snorting.
--
“Steve, look who’s here.” Nancy nudged him in the ribs with her sharp elbow
Steve turned and followed her line of sight, and there, at the entrance of the gardens, with an absolutely stunning woman on his arm, was Eddie.
“Ah. That his…girlfriend?”
Someone scoffed behind them, and they turned to look. It was a passing guest grabbing hors d'oeuvres from the table. “Edmund doesn’t have girlfriends. He has ‘dates’.” The guest looked up at the two, seeming to realize who he was talking to when he did. At the sight of the two royals in front of him, he blanched, and quickly scurried off.
“Well then…Shall we?” Nancy asked, wrapping her hand into the crook of Steve’s arm.
“Shall we what?”
“Say hello, of course.” She started off toward the other couple, pulling him along despite his protests. She was damn strong and ignored him, knowing he would come along at the very least just to make sure he doesn’t make a scene.
Suddenly, they were stopped and Steve dared to look forward, taking in the couple before him.
The woman was indeed stunning; a petite thing, especially next to Eddie’s tall build. Her strawberry blond hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and it was wrapped in an emerald green bow that perfectly matched her dress.
Eddie’s curls were pulled back into a bun, a few soft tendrils pulled out around his face. The white suit Eddie was wearing suited him just as well as any of his all black ensembles did, and Steve couldn’t help but notice that the suit paired with his pastel pink button-up was the exact inverse of Steve’s own pastel pink suit and white undershirt.
“Well don’t you two look nice!” Eddie’s date mused, giving a bright grin. “I’m Lady Christine Cunningham, but please, call me Chrissy.”
She extended her hand to Nancy first, who took it “Nancy, very nice to meet you Chrisy.”
“Hello, Lady Christine, thank you for coming.” Steve took her hand and brushed a soft kiss to her knuckles in greeting,
“Chrissy, please, your highness.”
“If you’re Chrissy, I’m Steve.” He smiled at her, he always offered this informality, not minding when folks ignored his title, but no one ever took him up on it.
“Very well, Steve.” She grins easily. Wow, that’s a surprise.
“So how do you two know each other?” Nancy asked Eddie, who’d remained quiet so far.
He cleared his throat, “We went to school together, been friends for a long time.” He smirked down at the petite woman beside him. “She’s quite the academic.”
“Really? What was your major?” Steve asked Chrissy
Eddie interrupted, “She actually majored in primary school education, she is looking to become a teacher.”
Not knowing why, Steve felt the need to come in for Nancy’s defense, “That’s amazing Chrissy! You know, Nancy here is currently pursuing her masters in journalism.”
Again, Chrissy looked like she was going to respond when Eddie responded instead, “Your highness, that’s amazing! Chrissy went to our local university, are you attending locally?”
Nancy made a small noise, but Steve was already (admittedly) bragging. “Nancy’s actually completing online courses at Harvard.”
Eddie started saying something else but Steve caught Chrissy trying to say something, so he cut him off “Chrissy is actually trying to say something, yes, Chrissy?”
Giving him an odd look, Chrissy addresses Nancy, “Nancy, I feel like they are just going to continue their “my horse is bigger than your horse debacle”, care to join me for a cup of tea?”
Eddie rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment before Steve can, so he shoves his hands in his pockets and ducks his head to hide the flush to his face. ‘Damn, what the fuck was all that?’
“I thought you’d never ask; let's go find Robin. I’m certain she’ll be better company.” Nancy takes Chrissy’s hand and pulls her back toward the rest of the party “You know, his horse actually is pretty huge..”
There’s a moment of awkward silence and Steve starts to say something to break it when Eddie beats him to it.
“So she knows how big your horse is, does she?” Eddie gives him a sly wink and stalks off towards the palace’s hedge maze.
Steve is stunned, frozen for a good ten seconds before he follows after Eddie.
He’s been through this maze enough times that he knows exactly where he’s going. A fact that Eddie doesn’t seem to know, because he calls back out to Steve from not that far ahead “Better get moving, Stevie, don’t want to be caught by the minotaur.”
Steve’s mind is instantly flooded with a myriad of confusing feelings about Eddie calling him Stevie, but then is almost laughs at that minotaur comment, ‘What a fucking dork’ he finds himself thinking.
He catches up to Eddie as they enter the center of the maze, where a huge fountain sits right in the middle. It’s not fully on at the moment, but is usually spraying extra decorative spouts of water in addition to the column in the center.
“How dare you insinuate anything having to do with my private life.” he growls at the back of Eddie’s head.
Eddie throws a sly smile to Steve over his shoulder “I’m not insinuating anything, Your Highness; well, only that she’s met Sandy.”
Steve splutters. ‘Ah fuck, he’s got me there.’
Eddie spins and stalks backward instead. “But judging by your response, I don’t think I have to infer anything about that part of you anymore, now do I Stevie?” giving Steve an appraising look up and down.
Steve’s face turns beet red, fucking hell. He rolls his eyes and looks away, acting like he isn’t flustered by the thought of Eddie knowing what he’s working with. He stops walking when Eddie does, right at the edge of the stone fountain and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Wouldn't you like to know..” he grumbles under his breath.
There’s a pause before: “Maybe I do.”
Steve’s head snaps up and there is no snarky smile, no malice in Eddie’s face. Only a shy hint of a smile and bright red cheeks.
“Well tough shit.” Steve is pissed. How dare this man make him have feelings for him, crush him, then he wants to return them? Fuck that bullshit. “You could have known all about me, known all about what I'm working with, but you and that snake of a father had other plans.”
Eddie’s eyes widen and his smile drops; good, he knows exactly what Steve is trying to confess then.
“It could’ve been you, Eddie.” Steve says quietly, thinking he might as well spell it out. “I really thought we connected and I happen to feel like we could’ve been great together.” The images he’d conjured back when Nancy had asked him if he could see himself with Eddie flash behind his eyes. “You know, Nancy asked me once if I could see myself with you.”
“She did?” Eddie’s voice is whisper-quiet.
Steve nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I told her how I had fallen head over heels for you during your damn lie dance,” Eddie’s short chuckle at that sounded wet, and when Steve looked up, there were tears swimming in the older man’s eyes.
“Then she asked. I told her no. But that was a damn dirty lie because I could picture it so clearly, Eddie.”
Eddie’s mouth drops open in surprise, but Steve cuts him off before he can mutter a single syllable.
“Don’t worry, I stuffed all those pictures into the back of a drawer up here,” Steve taps his temple, his anger coming back into his voice. “But I can’t risk seeing them ever again so I’m going to burn them. Wipe them from my mind forever.” Another lie, he’s going to hold onto those as long as he damn well pleases, but he doesn’t have to know that.
“I am engaged to be married to a wonderful woman who supports me as I am, and will be there to support me when I take over the throne from my Aunt.” Steve mimes wiping his hands together then shaking them off, boring his sight into the depths of Eddie’s wide eyes. “I’m wiping my hands of you, Edmund Muñoz. You will be a pain in my side until coronation, then after that, it will be as if you never existed.”
He turns to leave, feeling both lighter and weighed down after his confession. Lighter knowing that Eddie now knows his feelings, but weighed down knowing he lied to him about wanting to be rid of him.
“Steve, wait!“ Eddie grabbed his elbow and for some reason, Steve let himself be whirled around and into Eddie’s embrace, chest to chest, heart to pounding heart.
From the look on the taller man’s face, he hadn’t expected them to end up so close either, but as soon as Steve was in his embrace, both men immediately lost every thought in their heads. They both started leaning forward and closer to the inevitable until finally, finally, their lips brushed together.
Steve let his eyes droop, heavy-lidded while they were drawing closer, but now, he closed them and every other sense off in order to take in only the man in front of him. Pressed himself fully to Eddie. Eddie, whose lips were soft on his in even this, barely a breath of a kiss. Eddie, whose arms he fit into like they were made only for each other. Eddie, whose large, warm hands traveled up Steve’s arms to cup his jaw with the softest touch imaginable.
There was no way he was ever going to recover from this.
Steve reveled in the kiss for the longest moment he could. He let himself feel the fireworks in their touch, the lights of the same bursting behind his eyelids, never to be seen again; he allowed himself this for a single fleeting moment, then forced himself to come back to his senses. Even when the flame in his heart for the man currently holding him like he was precious, grew to an overwhelming size and temperature.
“Mph–what the hell are you doing?” Steve pushed Eddie off of him, the other man looking just as stunned in what just happened, what was currently happening. Then, as if seeing it in slow motion, Steve registered Eddie’s face morphing into panic as they both realized at the same time that he was now tripping and falling backwards towards the pool at the bottom of the fountain.
“Oh shit, Eddie!” Steve lunged forward and was able to wrap his arms around Eddie’s waist, but it was too late. The momentum of Eddie’s fall had them both falling, right into the frigid waters.
Steve fell half onto Eddie, and half directly onto one of the spouts for the fountain’s water show. The spout jabbed directly under the ribs on his left side, and punched the breath out of his lungs. He took in a mouthful of water and shot himself up out over the surface of the pool.
Hacking, coughing, side hurting, and feeling like he was going to hurl, Steve managed to catch something coming from the man beside him.
“—ou alright?”
Steve took a wet, shuddering breath and stood shakily, stepping carefully out of the fountain before he responded. “How about you stay underwater and I’ll count to a million?”
“Stevie—“
“No!” he spun around and winced at the pain in his side, clutching at it over the suddenly more see-through material of his suit.
For a moment, he was taken aback by the sight of Eddie. Sitting in the pool, the majority of his curls now free from their bun, sopping wet and hanging from his head, plus the pained expression he wore made him look like a kitten that's been left out in the rain.
Now his heart hurts, along with his side.
“No, Edmund, you stay here and figure out why you think it’s okay to go around kissing people; specifically engaged people.” he turned on his heel and hurried back through the hedges toward the party.
“Steve! Stevie, wait, you’re hurt!” He could hear the splashing and sloshing as Eddie got himself out of the water as fast as he could, but he didn’t turn back. Couldn’t turn back.
Steve steps into the light outside the hedges and nearly crashes into Dustin.
“Steve? What happened?”
“Doesn’t matter, help me inside?”
“Sure, no problem man, are you okay?” He could see that Steve was clutching his side, and probably could see something in his expression in addition to his soaked appearance.
“Honestly Dusty? I don’t think so.”
They walked along in silence for a moment, luckily not running into many people on their way toward the palace. Until they reached the end of the gardens.
“Steve? What are you–”
“Aunt Joyce, you don’t want to know.”
Her gaze swept over him and settled on his face. The fire behind her eyes told him otherwise.
“Head inside and get cleaned up, I will meet you after supper.”
Steve only nodded, and Dustin sent in a call over his mic as they started in. “Sparrow returning to the birdhouse; Eagle remains in the yard.” Giving him an appraising look, he also calls “Inform Robin of Sparrow’s whereabouts; she will pass it to Owl.” before asking “You think it’s a bad idea for Robin’s callsign to be Robin?”
“I think it’s hilarious actually.”
–
“Stephan, you tell me right this instant what your exact feelings are for Lord Muñoz.”
Steve had gone to wait in Joyce’s suite after they’d finished supper, knowing he’d want to get this done and over with sooner than later.
“You are found in a closet with a man who is not your betrothed, come out of a fountain dripping wet with the same man who is not your betrothed? What kind of message is this sending to the people, to Parliament? We are supposed to be on top of things around here.”
“I don’t know what to tell you Aunt Joyce, it’s not like I plan for these things to happen.” Steve huffs.
“Start talking Stephan.” Joyce sits in front of him with her cup of tea and waits.
He thinks it over. It could be so easy to tell her (and tell himself) that he doesn’t have any feelings for Edmund, that he’d left them there with the same man in that damn fountain. It should be easy to do so. Lie to himself now and make himself believe it.
But he can’t.
Even with as much as he wants to, Robin’s words and Eddie’s actions tell him that he and Eddie both had feelings for each other. Have feelings for each other.
“Oh Steve, honey.”
Joyce’s words snap him out of it and he realizes tears have started falling from his eyes. ‘Why the hell am I so emotional lately?’ he thinks to himself.
“It’s been a very stressful couple of weeks darling, I can assume that’s why.” Joyce sits beside him and wraps her arms around him.
“I said that out loud didn’t I?” he returns Joyce’s embrace, sinking into it fully.
“You did, yes.”
“Joyce…I am head over heels for him. I don't know how I can make it stop.”
She holds him and rubs his back comfortingly for a minute or two.
“Steve, honey, I can’t tell you what to do. No one can. I can only tell you what you already know.”
“That I have to keep parliament happy if I want to become King.”
She’s quiet again and continues rubbing circles into his back. “I will support you no matter what, honey, remember that.”
“Thank you, Aunt Joyce.”
She pats his back and sits up tall again, "Now try to get some sleep, you'll want to look your best for the Independence Day parade tomorrow.”
Steve heaves a deep sigh. "I will try.”
Chap. 7 here!
Yay tags!: @henderdads @steveshairychest @sidebarre @resident-gay-bitch @kaspurrcat @melkene @livewondrousss @sadcanadianwinter @steddieasitgoes @mightbeasleep @princessstevemunson @totallybitchin @potentialheartofdarkness
#princess diaries au#steddie princess diaries au#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#chrissy cunningham#nancy wheeler#joyce byers#dustin henderson#steve x eddie#st#stranger things#st fic#stranger things fic#princess diaries#stephan artur harrington-renaldi#lord edmund munoz
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Necessary Arrangements: ch 3
Will Miller x female Reader
A Princess Diaries inspired Triple Frontier AU
Co-written with @steeevienicks
Upon returning from Colombia with one fewer member of his former special forces team, Will Miller is met with the revelation that his absent father is dying and Will is expected to take over the family business. Which would be fine, if the family business weren’t the running of an entire small nation. This is Will’s chance to start over and do some good in the world - but how will he cope with his new life and the woman he is supposed to spend it with?
Rating: Teen, but as always this blog is 18+!
Word Count: 15.4k
Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series include family death, cursing, and food descriptions.* The yearning is starting up real quick here, guys. Not sure there are really any warnings afoot, though.
Summary: The chaos of embracing royal life is a lot for Will to swallow, but the craziest part of all of it might be how quickly he finds himself attracted to you - or maybe it’s the calls home to the guys. It’s hard to tell which.
Notes: We’re back from our accidental hiatus and we are better than ever! We’re introducing some supporting cast members in this chapter and getting the plot rolling on into high gear!
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2
The speech writers did a marvelous job with his first address. They kept it clean and to the point, warm and encouraging as Freidlyn steps into a new age while still honoring its roots and traditions. The respectful grieving of a son and half-brother who is embracing his heritage and home head-on. You had stood behind the cameras with Minna, watching the attentive man you met just this morning at breakfast, square his shoulders like a ready soldier and prepare for the battlefield of public speaking. The ease and charm that was so surprising in his voice did not come until later - halfway through the speech when he improvised slightly and made everyone in the room smile from how fully engaging your new king truly is as a speaker. He said he had done this before. He had given motivational speeches and talked with American soldiers. It showed.
“How did I do, ladies?” He asked once the flurry of the televised speech was over. He was nervous at first but found his confidence around halfway through - making sure people were invested and engaged with the words so carefully written for him. If he’s honest, he knows he did well – he excelled with speaking to troops about his experiences in and out of the military and was able to hold crowds over with what he was saying, but he really just wanted you to tell him he did well.
“Very well done, your Majesty.” Minna isn’t one for empty compliments and had anticipated giving just a polite nod of approval, but this man is a natural public speaker. There is no doubt about that.
“You were—” With your hands around your own waist and holding to yourself tight, the unconscious attempt to hold yourself back from him is very real. Two hours, one meal, and one speech is far too little time to developing an affection for him and yet here you are. “You were wonderful.” It’s honest, at least, and you manage to keep from looking too doe-eyed in the process. “Your father, god rest his soul, would have been proud to hear you talk about taking the throne as coming home.”
Your polite but sincere words make him smile wider than he realizes. He bites his lip to keep himself from appearing too giddy, but the red coating his cheeks gives him away. “Thanks, plum,” he clears his throat – a nervous habit he’d never get rid of. “That means a lot coming from someone like you. What now? More speeches? A tour?” He’s hopeful. Hopeful to spend more time with you and getting to know you.
“That will be the only speech for today.” Minna smiles at his eagerness and dips her fingers into the thick folder in her arms – only to pull out a smaller folder from its contents. “If you will please fill out these pages by supper time, I will collect them then. Please be as specific as possible when you can.” She looks between the two of you and nods in a knowing sort of way. “Perhaps her Ladyship would like to give you a tour of the palace in my place?”
“I—” Surprised by the offer, you can’t say it doesn’t appeal to you. Time alone with him is valuable and might not be easy to come by once he is fully ensconced in his duties. “I can do that. Of course.”
“Very good.” Another nod and a smile from Minna, and she extracts an identical folder from her arms to hand to you after William takes his from her hand. “Luncheon will be served in the small dining room at noon sharp.”
Will watches her exit and then turns his attention back to you. “So! Show me everything!” He’s excited – fully expecting there to be secret passages and hidden doors much like the stories and movies he consumed as a child. “What’s your favorite thing about this place?” He’s excited now, he realizes. Excited to see his new home, excited to spend time with you and figure out what makes you tick.
The tactics of Mademoiselle Minna Thorn do not surprise you in the least, nor are they particularly subtle, but you don’t comment on it. “Well, this wing of the palace is mostly for business. Offices, rooms used for meetings. The east wing, the other side of the palace, is for residential use and guest sleeping quarters.” Fidgeting slightly, you tuck the file folder into the broad, thin handbag you’ve been carrying. “Of course, this is just the main palace for business. If you prefer to make your residence at one of the other properties, there are three more to choose from.”
“Huh. I guess I thought everything and everyone was here permanently,” he ponders. “Well, tell you what,” Will places his hands on his hips, “Show me all of them when you have time, and whichever one feels the most homey to you, whether it be here or one of the other places – we’ll call it home. I can make myself comfortable anywhere. I’ve slept in some pretty cramped and not so ideal places and made it out just fine, so I’m trusting you with choosing where we relax after a long day's work.” He wants to give you as many options to choose as possible – fully trusting you to make the right choices along with him.
“Your father lived here, primarily. Parliament is nearby and he chose convenience. Frederick preferred Bertgen Castle on the western coast, and summered at Chèvrefeuille Palace. He likes – liked, excuse me – the gardens there best. Chèvrefeuille is the French name for honeysuckle, and the grounds there are full of it. Castle LaRoche is inland. On top of a very large hill or a very small mountain depended on how you look at it. And is mostly a museum now.” Beginning to walk, your fingers itch with nervous energy but you don’t let the rest of your body show it. “I’ve spent the most time here and at Chèvrefeuille.” The room you stroll into, side by side, is laden floor to ceiling with portraits and set with two beautiful, carved desks. “This is Fräulein Thorn’s office, and she will share it with whomever she hires to be her second in command. The Portrait Room was chosen by your father’s assistant because he found it the most imposing.”
Will listens to you talk about the options he was presented and pauses before speaking. “How about…I stay here for a while, while I adjust to everything and then if I’m not liking the whole ‘no work-life separation balance’ thing we go somewhere else? I mean are you living here now? Or do you have a different place to call home every night?”
“Your father summoned me before…” You clear your throat gently, walking with him into the next room. “I live in an apartment in a different part of the city, but…you’re in charge now. If you want me to stay here, you only need to say so.” As soon as he decides that he wants to make your courtship and engagement official, you’ll be quitting your job and moving into the palace anyway. He only has to say the word.
“Miss Thorn is great and all, but it would be nice to have someone else nearby. She kind of scares me, if I’m being honest. Are you opposed to moving your things in? I can help!” He’s excited to have you close. Your warmth is a welcome presence in his life.
“I am not opposed to it at all.” In fact, your apartment is something of a holding space right now. Your job and your space just a place to exist in until Frederick decided to live up to his responsibilities. That time had not come yet, so you were still waiting. “You really are…very different from Frederick. It—it’s nice.”
He’s a little taken aback, “I am? I really don’t know anything about him. What was he like?” Will is curious. He gets the suspicion that Frederick wasn’t a bad guy, per se, but wasn’t exactly the ideal companion for you either. “Sugarplum, I’m going to say this right now and I need to you take me seriously,” he stops mid-stride, taking notice of how stiff your posture becomes. “If I’m ever out of line, or rude or just…not pleasant in any way, I want you to call me out for it. Please. Put me in my place if I’m ever…foolish or anything, okay?”
“I..I don’t think you would ever do anything foolish on purpose.” From what you’ve seen from him, he’s a straightforward and well-intentioned man. After years of waiting on the sidelines, to be so intimately involved is both overwhelming and a little scary. “I promise to do everything I can to help you. So if that means…nudging you in the right direction from time to time, I’ll do it. I’m sure you’ll find things about me that you aren’t particularly fond of, either. We must do what we can to get along.” You’ll never expect his love, but you do hope to at least be his friend.
Will is grateful for the contract that was signed when you were a child – which he feels weird admitting to himself. As you continue touring the palace grounds he can start to picture his future here – you, by his side as queen, your bond continuing to grow and maybe, hopefully learning to love each other if it felt right. Is it weird to think it might?, he thinks to himself. He never in a million years thought this was something he would be okay with – always content with the chase and swiping on Tinder to find a nice gal to spend a few nights with. He’s staring at you again as you walk, he realizes. Shaking his head and looking straight ahead to avoid any awkwardness.
“The grand ballroom.” You announce as a nearby servant jumps forward to open the heavy, ornate door before you can reach for it. You smile and thank the boy, waiting for Will to enter the room first before you signal to the servant to shut the door behind you. No prying eyes or ears in here. “I don’t suppose you ever learned to waltz in America?”
As soon as the both of you step into the ballroom Will feels like he’s having his very own “Beauty and the Beast moment” (for the record, he’s calling dibs on being Beast in this scenario). It’s beautiful, ornate, and timeless – right out of a fairytale. The ceiling is perfectly decorated with a painting of a sky with puffy clouds and angelic cherubs. A large but delicate chandelier hangs in the middle and casts tiny rainbows all throughout the room due to the sun hitting the windows at just the right angle.
“No, never, but if you’d be so kind…” He gestures to you, leaving his request lingering between you.
Oh, that was not the response you expected, but it is too much of a moment to pass up. Stepping closer, you guide one of his hands to your back and place yours on his shoulder, lightly putting your other hand into his and stretching out your arms together. “We’ll have to get you a dance teacher.” You tease softly, knowing that he’ll be required to do plenty of this in the years to come. “Move with your right foot first, one step toward me and a slight turn.” Though there isn’t any music, it still feels like the room should be flooded with it in the late morning sun.
“Like this?” He asks as he follows your direction. Finding it’s not as difficult as he had imagined. He could get used to this closeness. The two of you continue to dance in silence for a few moments, laughing when he trips over his own feet a few times. Okay maybe it’s a little difficult.
“It’s easier with music.” You promise him, still in the circle of his arms when he steps on the toe of your shoe once again. “You’ll, um…you’ll have to learn. For your coronation.” The state dinner after his father and brother’s funeral won’t have dancing, but the coronation ball will be exactly that – a ball. “Traditionally the first dance would be with the queen, but you might dance with the Prime Minister first instead? Minna will know what the protocol is.”
“Well, I’d like to think I’m a good student if you’re willing to teach me how to be more graceful. I know I need a lot of polishing…” He’s hopeful you’ll be the one to teach him, to be the one he dances with from now on. “I’m sure the prime minister is nice, but I’d much rather dance with my sugarplum.”
“It will start rumours.” He’s still not entirely aware of what he is getting himself into, and you have to remember that. While he may not have to run the country, every step he takes will be scrutinized from here in out. “For that matter, moving me into the palace and having me by your side will start rumors.” But even so, you can’t quite bring yourself to step out of his arms. There’s something comforting about him that you can’t put your finger on, even though you’ve only known him a few hours. “I’m…fully prepared to do my duty, but it would not give you much space to change your mind about the contract. If you wanted to find someone else, it would cause a scandal. And…seeing as there may be some people who aren’t fond of having a king who was raised in a different country and barely even knew he was Freidlych in the first place…I don’t want to cause you any harm.”
Will steps away from you slightly, not realizing that him being all in could reflect negatively on you. “Oh…I—I guess I never considered that.” He feels bad. Did you feel uncomfortable with him being so forward? He’s nearly positive he won’t want to void the contract, but you do make valid points. “Well, maybe we should wait on some stuff then? I’m sorry,” He says quietly. “I wouldn’t want anyone to think poorly of you or start rumors when they could be avoided…” He sounds sad, but understands where you’re coming from.
“I only mean that, I want you to have time to think about it.” For some reason, having him step away feels more like a punishment then you’re willing to admit to yourself. There is, at least for you, a sort of instant attraction at play here. But the fact that he is handsome won’t make the next forty or fifty years of your lives easy by any means. “To become prince, king, husband, and father all in the course of a few years is a change that would make most men crumble. And I—” You smooth your nervous hands down the length of your dress, reminding yourself that this is a private moment. Just for the two of you. And he asked you to speak your mind. “I love my country too much to see her embroiled in scandal. Just as I…I find very much that I want to see you succeed. So, the way I see it, we have options to consider.”
His demeanor changes then as he takes you into his arms again and attempts to keep waltzing around the grand ballroom. “Let’s avoid scandals then.” He smiles timidly. “I want to succeed as well for the sake of my father and this country, and I want your success to be…well, everything you could ever dream of it being. That’s all I want for you,” He says your name, drawing your eyes to his.
“We have options.” Why do you get such a shiver when he speaks to you softly? It’s like a summer breeze eating through your whole body. Well, alright, you know why. But why now? Why this man? “If we simply move forward with the contract, there will be plenty of questions about how we met. We can simply tell the truth, but that will raise plenty of concerns from those who dislike you for being raised elsewhere. We can go so far as to claim it was love at first sight at the breakfast table and hope that the people find it charming; or we can insert a tiny lie. Say that we had met before, years ago, and that meeting again has rekindled a spark. I’ve been to America before. Several times. I’m sure we could come up with something.”
Will thinks for a minute before an idea sparks. “I like the idea of us meeting before, and since you’ve been to America why don’t we say we met and stayed…I don’t know, pen pals or something? And the rest is history and all of that.” He offers, liking the idea of coming up with a romantic little story to go along with the betrothal.
“Tell me about your life, then.” He’s less unsteady, somehow, when you talk during the steps. As though not thinking about them so much actually helped him to be more graceful. “A lie is always more convincing when it is close to the truth.”
“Well,” He begins, gripping you a little tighter as you sway around the room. “My name is William Miller – I just moved here from North Carolina where I lived near my mom and half-brother Benny. I served in the military for a handful of years and my best friends – who would all really enjoy getting to know you, by the way, all served with me. We were what’s called Delta Force, it’s special forces. I’m a meat and potatoes kind of guy, love relaxing on the couch with a beer and a ball game, I like to hike but my last one was…” he pauses, thinking about Colombia. “Not the greatest. I enjoy movies, music, and I’m learning that dancing is also pretty nice.” He laughs as he dips you. “Oh, and I’m the future king of Freidlyn, nice to meet ya.”
“Current king.” You shake your head at him with something very clearly like affection. He’s a good man, from everything you know about him. Relatively straightforward and wants to do the right thing. Even though the right thing means completely changing his life with no option to turn back. “Your friends…your brother…your mother. They will all know that we have not met before. Can they be trusted to keep the secret?” Your own family, for their part, will be silent as a vault on the topic. As far as they are concerned this little story will just be a part of the contract. Even your youngest sister, for all her attention-seeking, would never go against the word of the crown.
“I trust the guys with my life. If they’re ever able to come visit, you’ll see why. They wouldn’t jeopardize this for us, promise.” He’s telling the truth – though there have been issues in the past for different reasons with his friends, he knows they’d take this seriously. “They will have questions, but they won’t ask them when it’s not appropriate. And if I tell them to fuck off…oh sh-shoot, sorry, they’ll drop it.”
“You can curse with me.” He’s done in before and apologized, just leaving you to smile about it and brush it off as the conversation continued. “When it’s just as, we can be less formal. That’s what you prefer, right?”
”Please,” he’s relieved. “I’m a veteran of the US Army, it’s so hard not to curse.” he laughs, thinking of all the colorful phrases and adjectives that were used during his time in the service. “But you’d probably be offended if I completely let loose, so I’ll monitor myself while still letting a few ‘fucks, damns and shits’ slip out.”
“I do have brothers.” He turns you in his arms in a move that is very nearly graceful and you laugh with what might be called actual delight. “Three of them, actually. And one sister. So please believe that I can curse when it is called for.”
“Good! That’s a relief,” he laughs. “So tell me about them, tell me about you. How did we meet? Wine bar? Disney World? Take your pick, plum.”
“I went to Disney World once as a child,” you chuckle softly. “So I doubt that would be a good story. But I have been to New York, to Chicago, to Boston, and to New Orleans, all as an adult. Usually with one of my siblings, or my friend Elsie. They will vouch for our story to the press if asked.”
Ideas start coming together in Will’s mind. “Alright, how about we met on a cemetery tour in New Orleans a few years back and hit it off? You and your friends had me tag along on a night out in the French Quarter and we exchanged information and have been pen pals of sorts ever since?” He did take a solo trip and did just those things a few years back, and it could work.
“That trip was with Elsie.” Chewing on your lip is a bad, old habit of yours but it still pops up from time to time like it is now. At some point the formless dancing has stopped, leaving you simply standing in each other’s arms near the far corner of the ballroom. “We went to jazz clubs and ate just about everything, and took a little boat tour through a swamp to a plantation house. It was…beautiful, actually. And a little…I think creepy is the word?”
“Yeah, creepy is a good word to describe plantation houses. Fucked is another, but that’s just between you and I.” Now Will is wishing this trip had actually happened. Maybe in the near future it could? Sans Elsie.
“It would be easy to say we lost contact over time.” Now that the wheels are spinning in your head, you dearly wish it had been him sending you and Elsie drinks in those clubs or asking you to dance. “It was three years ago that I was there. Is that…an acceptable time frame?”
“It’s too good, baby doll. We just lost touch because of work and the killer time difference, but let's say one night I got brave and called you out of the blue and here we are: rekindled because the connection and chemistry were just too good to deny after all this time. C’est la vie!”
Snorting softly at baby doll, you cover your mouth to stifle the little grin that plays on your lips. “New Orleans, then. A few years ago, and we lost touch. We can tell Elsie when we go to the library later.” Your lifelong best friend being in the service of the crown did make it a little easier to spend time in the palace when you had been summoned by the king or prince, and had definitely led to you making friends with more of the staff after just a little while. “The…the slightly less tasteful gossip magazines…they will insinuate that we did more than just meet there. You understand that?” It is what it is. They are rumours that will take on a life of their own, but he needs to be aware it will happen.
“Wouldn’t be the first time a rumor has been spread about my sex life.” He laughs. “Trust me, if I even repeated some of the jokes and words that flew while in the military you’d laugh. Enlisted men have no couth and will say anything to get a rise or a laugh. I’m sure it’s all been said about me before and it doesn’t bother me. Unless they say something nasty about you, then I’ll have a problem.” He has no issues defending a woman who has been harassed.
“We wouldn’t comment on it.” Although now that you’re thinking about it, it’s hard not to wonder what lies beneath the well-tailored suit he has on. No. No. This is neither the time nor the place for that sort of thing. “You should just be aware that it will happen.”
“Thanks for looking out for me.” He smiles – you don’t know it, but he’s having the same thoughts as you – what your skin would feel like under his hands, how you’d look blissed out beneath him. He has to immediately think of Catfish and the mule incident before he gets carried away.
“We seem to have made it across the ballroom…” The observation is fairly useless, but you have to say something that will tear your mind away from how beautifully soft his lips look. Not the time or the place! “And…I think it is nearly time for lunch. We can finish the tour in the East wing after we eat?”
Nodding his head, Will takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your hypnotizing perfume – he will have to remember to ask what is it you wear later when it feels less weird. “I gotta say, this dancing has worked up an appetite. I am looking forward to our lunch.” He smiles. "And then the rest of the tour, of course."
“And filling out our papers for Minna.” Both file folders are safely tucked in your handbag, but you know that they need to be done by dinner time and you won’t let them be forgotten. “Are you ready to tell your mother everything? Or would you prefer to wait a little?”
“My mom is a pretty tough lady; I think we should tell her over lunch. She already knows there are a lot of changes coming very quickly so I think the sooner the better.” Apparently, his mom has lived this life before, albeit briefly, so he’s hopeful she’ll understand that she’s very quickly going to be gaining a daughter-in-law.
“Come, then.” Motioning for him to follow, you head to a hidden door in the corner by the windows, carefully unlatching the secret knob and pushing it open to reveal a rather spectacular and giant formal dining room. “They are interconnected for ease,” you tell him, grinning when you see the delighted look on his face at the hidden door. “So that on nights when there is a supper and ball, the guests need not get lost between rooms. And the kitchens are directly below us, stretching most of the length of the west wing.”
“You’re shitting me,” he whispers, elated at the secret door you take him through. “That’s so cool. You have to show me more of these!” He’s nearly giddy at how exciting a secret door is to him. “I think I’m gonna like palace living, plum.” He looks amazed as he steps through the door. “Any other fancy secrets for the ball?”
“There is…more or less…an escape route.” And it is not at all something you would need to keep secret from the staff, as they all undoubtedly use the secret passages to go about their duties more efficiently, as well as keeping them clean. “From the ballroom, up into the northeast tower, and it drops off at two different suites. One of them being yours, of course.”
“You mean to tell me I have my own secret door? What is this day?” Will laughs – harder than he has all morning. “God, if only I have one of those when I was trying to avoid Benny when we were growing up. Plum if we were better acquainted, I’d kiss you right now. This is amazing.” He knows he’s too excited and being ridiculous about the doors, but he can’t help himself.
Your eyes flick over to the footman who is doing his best to be invisible behind the screen in the corner of the room and you can’t help but be a tiny bit disappointed that there is a witness, preventing you from just being bold here in this moment. The thing you can do instead, though, is tease. “You, and whoever is in the second suite. Perhaps it should be Benny’s when he comes to visit?”
“Hm, nah, preferably not…” He lets his words linger, hoping that eventually you’d take an interest in visiting his quarters. “Benny would expect that too much and I don’t want him feeling spoiled now that big bro is the King.” He has no idea how Benny is even going to react when he finds out.
“You should call him.” It’s the smallest suggestion in the world, all things considered, but you know that if it were you, you would want Elsie and your siblings to know what is happening in your life. “And they should come visit. Your friends, I mean. I would think you would want them here for your coronation?”
“I was actually going to ask if it’s okay to invite them. They’ll be on their best behavior, and I think half of them own suits. You’re also right, I really should call my brother. I think…I’ll put him on a flight and tell him in person. Or maybe just tell him right out. It’s huge news…what would you do? If Elsie didn’t know.”
“For Elsie?” Gazing out the window for a moment, you truly do have to consider how you would tell that sort of phenomenal news to the person you care most for in this world. It isn’t an easy thought by any means. “I would tell her straight out. Be as honest as I can. And then book her on the first flight over here so I could give her a big hug.” You half-laugh under your breath, realizing how silly it sounds. “Your real friends should be here to support you.”
He knows you’re right, but just doesn’t know what to say to his brother and friends. Whatever comes from the heart, right? “Do…do I have some time to make a few calls before lunch?” He asks, wanting them to know. He has no doubt every single one of them will drop everything to hop on the first flight to Freidlyn – he would do it for them.
Flicking your wrist to check your watch, you consider the hour but nod. “We have twenty minutes. It’s not a lengthy phone call, but it should be enough to get through to your brother.”
He nods, “Care to join me? Should be a great into to Benny.” He has no doubt Benny will adore you. “Then after lunch we call my friends?”
“I will join you on one condition.” There’s a playful note to your voice, letting him know you’re of course going to do what he asks of you but you’re going to be cheeky first. “Do you remember how to get back to the Blue Room from here?”
“I think I can manage.” He laughs loudly, taking five steps ahead of you and looking around, completely lost. “...With some help, of course.” He winks, offering his arm – if you weren’t so beautifully distracting he definitely would have paid better attention to where the two of you had walked this morning.
The Blue Room is a short walk from the formal dining room, but quick enough if you know the way – which you certainly do. You move easily with your hand around his arm, glad there is no way for him to feel how horribly your heart is beating through so many layers of clothing.
“See? Easy.” He laughs. His heart is hammering in his chest for two different reasons now. “I guess it’s time we let Benny know what’s going on.” He says as he pulls the sleek phone out of his pocket. Benny’s number is already programmed and ready. He keeps your arm through his as he presses the green call button and lefts the phone to his left ear with his other hand.
You don’t want to, but slipping away for just a second to shut the door of his office for privacy is a must. It only takes a moment to be back at his side when you hear a boisterous. “Hey asshole!” Through the phone and you smirk. Ah, brothers.
"Listen, Benjamin – we need to have a little chat about some stuff." He says, trying to keep his composure. Will and Benny have always had a good relationship, but he's really not sure how he's going to react to finding out his brother is a king.
“Benjamin?” On the other end of the line, Benny yawns animatedly. “You wake my ass up at 6am and you call me Benjamin? What’s going on?”
"A shit ton, actually," Will begins. "So, you know how I never really knew much about my dad and mom never liked to talk about him?" He bites his lip.
“Yeah?” Benny shuffles in bed, smothering another yawn. “Mom’s okay, right? She cancelled dinner on me last night and she was gonna make fried chicken so I am jonesing.”
“Yeahyeahyeah, mom’s great. She’s with me actually.” He takes a deep breath. “Well, turns out my dad was king of Freidlyn, you know that nice little European country with the jam and really good whiskey? Um. There was an accident, and he and my other brother passed away and nowI’mtakinghisplaceasking.” he blurts out, hoping Benny was awake enough to hear and comprehend what he just said.
There is dead silence for about fifteen seconds during which you and Will can’t seem to do anything but stare at each other, before raucous laughter bursts out on the other end of the phone. “Fuck you, dude.” Benny Miller laughs down the line. “That’s not even a good prank. King of Freidlyn? Pope came up with this one, right? Had to be Pope to pick someplace so obscure.”
“That’s what I thought too, but nope. It’s legit. I can turn this camera on and FaceTime you right now. I’m in this un-fuckin’-believable palace. In a custom-tailored suit. In my office. I’ve been here since yesterday, and I’m not coming home. I need to do this, and I need you here, so I’m booking you a flight. Like, as soon as we hang up. I’m so serious Ben.”
“Dude it’s too early for your shit.” Benny grumbles. “You’re supposed to be at my fight tonight remember? That ring girl you like is gonna be there and I swear to god if you don’t take her home this time I will, just to piss you off.”
“Benny,” Will stresses before hitting the ‘FaceTime’ button on the call. “Accept my fuckin’ video call and I’ll show you that I’m not shitting you. I swear little bro. For once I’m not bullshitting you.” Will taps his foot impatiently while he waits for Benny to accept the video. He looks to you like you’re an anchor for him. The video finally connects, and he’s met with Benny’s exhausted and annoyed face.
It takes about five seconds to register the surroundings on the other end of the video before Benny is scrambling to sit up in bed and turn the light on. “Holy—I mean—what the fuck…?” He shakes his head vigorously like it will somehow jostle his thoughts back into place but just continues to look stunned. “Holy shit,” he finally breathes when he can form a sentence, but clears his throat the second Will pans the phone around to include you in the shot. “I mean, uh…WOW. You…you’re not messing, are you?”
“Not messing.” He laughs and then introduces you “She’s been a big help, and if you get your ass on a plane tonight, I’ll explain more. Don’t tell the guys though. I’m calling them after we have lunch.” He wants his brother in the same room when he tells him he’s more than likely going to marry you and make you queen. “Mom’s here for a while so maybe you can get your damn fried chicken.” He laughs.
“I’ll beg off the fight.” Benny promises instantly. “Tell then I had a family emergency. The kid I’ve been training with can take it.” He’s up and out of bed now, holding his phone up as he moves across his room. “But, uh…what do I pack?”
“Um…” He looks at you quickly. “Nice stuff – suit pants, suit coat, a tie, clean button up. Just bring the nicest shit you have. If you need me to I can probably ask someone to get nice clothing for you. Oh, bring your dads onyx cufflinks too - those are great. I’ll have flight details texted to you shortly. Thanks for dropping everything for me, Ben.” He’s grateful, he really is, and you can’t help but notice how Will took charge of getting his brother to Freidlyn.
“You would do it for me.” Benny nods to the camera, eyes flicking over to you momentarily but not asking anything else. “I’ll see you soon then, bro.”
Will hangs up the phone and stuffs it back into his pocket. “That’s Benny for ya.” He chuckles. “He’s great, really. I think you’ll get along just fine. So!” he claps his hands. “Lunch?”
“Lunch.” Later on, after speaking with his friends, you’ll have a better handle on if it’s just a familial bond, or if Will truly has this effect on people. Engendering their trust and loyalty to a boundless degree. “You should let Minna know now that she will need to schedule flights so she can have some seats blocked out. Even if all of your friends can’t come tonight, she can at least – what is the phrase – get the ball rolling?”
“Smart and beautiful, you’re quite the gal, Sugarplum.” Will smirks as he links your arms together once again. “Lead the way to lunch, my lady. I’ll let Minna know we have plans to bring the boys.”
Pursing your lips at him like you’re going to make a joke, you simply shake your head and give him arm a gentle squeeze. “Come,” you insist, inching him toward the door. “It’s time to introduce me to your mother.”
“She’s not as loud as Benny, I’m not worried.” He says. “I know you’ll be two peas in a pod.” He’s fully confident his mom will love you and be more than happy to accept you into her tight knit little family, whether or not you and Will work out.
“One can hope.” Obviously you’re not as certain as he is, but then, you have more cause to be nervous. From the Blue Room to the small dining room is only a few steps, and the door is already swung open to allow your entrance before you’ve even crossed the threshold of the hallway. There is a woman sitting just inside, slightly plump from middling age but with bright white and blonde hair and a newspaper open at her place at the table while a footman pours wine into the glass at her place setting. This must be her, for who else could it be?
“Hey ma!” He greets her as she stands, giving her a quick hug and a kiss to the top of her head. “Benny should be on his way tonight – we just talked and he’s pissed about his fried chicken.” Will chuckles then steps away from his mom to pull out your chair.
“He’ll live.” Sandy rolls her eyes affectionately over her youngest son, but keeps her attention on the older. And on you, but proxy. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” She observes, though it’s more curious than accusatory.
Will smiles and introduces you. “Her family signed a contract when she was a kid to marry Frederick, but now that’s not happening…but the contract is still good for me, should I choose, so we will probably be getting married here soon…” He then goes on to tell his mom about how helpful and kind you’ve been since you met mere hours ago, and Sandy can’t help but see the fond twinkle in her son’s eye. She hadn’t seen that look since…well, it doesn’t matter now. She can see it in your eye too as you listen to Will talk about his morning with you.
“You may remember my parents from your earlier time in Freidlyn.” Right now there is not much common ground for you and Sandy Miller, but you are determined to find some. If only for Will’s sake. “My father, Thomas, had just become Duke of Rochegnac at that time. And my mother was Lady Karina Doret before they married.” Sandy rolls back through the old lists of names she used to know, eventually landing on Rochegnac as one of the sunnier parts of the country - known for orchards and liquor production, if she’s remembering right. And Lady Karina does ring a bell, but it takes a moment before she nods. “I do remember them. I believe your mother is an avid painter? I had the good fortune to see a few of her works at the time.”
Will is hopeful that this conversation continues to go well. His mother is a kind person and he’s never heard her mutter one negative word about anyone, maybe some choice words for him and Benny when they didn’t clean up after themselves as kids, but honestly, they deserved it. “Your mom’s a painter?” He asks you. “That’s great! Mom loves pottery! Don’t you, ma? Maybe the two of you can get together and make some nice pieces one of these days.”
“Oh, I don’t think—”
“I’m sure she would love to.” You promise the older woman, not wanting her to be self-conscious about anything that can be avoided. “Perhaps I’ll join you myself, if we can find the right time. My mother’s talent far outstripes my own, but I do enjoy painting to relax.”
Will nods, not daring to miss a word you say to him. "So, you've been telling me so much about what I need to know about myself, but I don't really know too much about you. What's your story, plum?"
“Oh…well,” you chew on the question, mercifully given another moment to think when a footman appears beside you to lay your luncheon plate in front of you. “I was born at Château Rogue in Yeuxbourg, came out when I was sixteen although that did not matter to finding me a match because of the betrothal.” Your eyes flicker between the young king and his mother. “My siblings and I were all educated here and in England.” Without knowing what interests him most, you aren’t really sure what details to give.
He places his elbow on the table, resting his chin in his palm with a far off, dreamy look in his eye. He knows it’s probably frowned upon to have his elbows on the table here, much like he was told when he was small, but at this moment he can’t find a second to care about that. This improper balance is what’s keeping him grounded, keeping him from getting lost in your eyes as you speak of your up bringing. “Do you ever miss it?” He wonders, thinking of how he can manage trips home for you if you’re ever homesick.
“Yeuxbourg?” You shake your head slightly, trying not to smirk at the deliberate way he has his elbow on the table like a defiant child waiting to see if he will be yelled at. “I have worked and lived in the capital for many years, but the country is not so large that I cannot manage a trip to see my parents now and then. And they have a great belief in lavish birthday parties, so I do return several times each year.”
“Oh, good. I’m glad you get to visit.” He noticed the way you tried to hide your smirk at his posture, and immediately straightens up before taking a lengthy sip of the best wine he’s ever had. Not that he had a lot of experience with wine to begin with. He glances over to his mom, who is smiling at the exchange. “Lavish parties though? That sounds like a lot of fun. I’ve been to quite a few parties myself but most of them were in garages with cheap beer, so not so lavish.”
“My parents believe every major life event should be used as a chance to celebrate the greatness of Freidlyn.” Whether that came before or after betrothing their oldest daughter to the future king, you do not know. “My siblings and I enjoy our privileges, but we all work in service of the people and are fully aware that most countries have no place for nobility in the modern age. So what some might think of as a lavish party where all manner of waste is produced, that is not what we do.” In this, at least, you can be immensely proud of the people who raised you. And that is not something everyone can say. “They open the grounds to all of our tenants, and we have carnival games and the best food we can possibly provide. My sister likes to give tours of the ground floor of the château for a few hours on her birthday, and my brother ends up inviting his military friends and they tell stories all day on his birthday. For mine, we will often set up canvasses and paints in the garden and I will act as an artist model with a few friends. We like to wear costumes and make it a bit silly, but the point is to invite all the people who are closest to us as well as though we wish we spent more time with.”
“That sounds incredible. Way better than anything I’ve ever been to.” He thinks of the last “party” he had gone to. It was more of a celebration for their friend Tom who had passed away on the last mission Santi had talked them into, and much more somber for that reason. “I’d love to join the next one if that’s allowed?”
“The next will be in two months’ time.” A warm rush of undeniable affection floods you at the way he lights up with enthusiasm and you smile. “My birthday. So I insist you both be there. And your brother if he is still here.”
“Benny never says no to a party,” His mother says as she picks up another bite of fish with her fork. “And you can absolutely count me in, honey.”
Will smiles at his mom and nods. “I can’t wait! I better start looking at birthday gifts now.” He wonders if there’s someone at the palace that could help with that, since he still has so much to learn about you. Jewelry would be too much too soon, I’m sure…but maybe a brooch? he ponders.
“I’m sure Minna will take care of everything.” Somewhere in the depths of the folders she gave you this morning, there are sure to be questions about flower, jewelry, and clothing preferences amongst everything else. You take a sip of your wine and try not to smile too much at the idea of Will fretting over an appropriate birthday gift for you. “All you need do is arrive.”
“Whatever they’re paying that woman - it’s not enough. She’s a saint and deserves a raise.” Especially after their initial introduction. “So, will my birthdays be like that too? I’d love to have my buddies for celebrations if possible.”
“Your birthday is…more complicated.” While the three of you eat, you can see the shadows moving behind the privacy screen that keeps the servants out of sight during mealtimes. Footmen who have been lurking being pulled away by – you presume – the butler or housekeeper. No doubt they will be scolded for eavesdropping and gossiping. For Will’s sake, you wish they weren’t so curious. He has so much to learn. “The monarch’s birthday is an official holiday that has been celebrated on the same day each year for the past almost four hundred years. You may change how it is celebrated, of course, but there will always be an official appearance of some kind for the monarch and their family, and it is always celebrated on the first of May to ensure good weather.”
An entire holiday? “Holy shit,” Will blurts out. “That’s insane. And cool. And also wow. That’s gonna take some getting used to.” He looks to his mom, for encouragement or support he’s not sure.
“You can do this, Will.” She says as she places a small hand over his. “You’re going to make a great king.”
“Think of it as how America has President’s Day.” Although, if you recall correctly from your visit to his former country around that time of year, the only celebrating was done by furniture and car retailers. “The people like to eat birthday cake after their dinner that night and have a glass of something indulgent to drink. Your father, may he rest in peace, liked to host a dinner party for Freidlych citizens at the tops of their fields. Listen to what suggestions they had to say about how their field could help our nation. And then, of course, cake. There is always a great deal of cake.”
Will nods quickly. “Oh, okay. I think I can manage that. As long as you’re by my side in case it gets overwhelming, I think I can manage.” He blushes, not sure where the sudden nervousness comes from. Here he is – this brick wall of a man intimidated by this incredible woman that has her shit together. Someone more deserving of the crown than he feels he ever could be.
“Try not to let it overwhelm you.” Setting your fork down, you gently reach over and clasp his hand. It is no small show of solidarity, especially in front of his mother, but you feel sure he will not rebuff it. Not after what happened between you in the ballroom. “I will be here every moment, and after it is appropriate to make our announcement – if it is still what you want – we will make sure that I shoulder as many responsibilities as I can to make it equal.” You swallow a sigh and instead nod encouragingly. “I will not let you fail. Not if it is in my power.”
He could kiss you right now, he really could. Instead, he gives you a smile and quietly murmurs his thanks. “I really appreciate that, plum. You’re going to be my rock through this and then some, so I hope you know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
“I haven’t done much yet.” So far you have given half of a tour and various encouragements, but not much else in your opinion. “This week will be difficult. And your coronation will be stressful but enjoyable.”
“Still, it’s more than people back home would do, so thank you.”
“What does this week entail?” Sandy asks, gently breaking the moment. She is always acutely aware of the fact that eyes and ears are on monarchs at all times. It’s one of the reasons she eventually decided that a role in the monarchy was not for her.
“Tonight, our national television service will broadcast a short documentary of the king’s life. There will be a church service dedicated to the king and Prince Frederick tomorrow.” You explain slowly, giving Will’s hand a squeeze before taking your own back. “You will both be expected to attend, and of course I will be there as well. After which, Mademoiselle Thorn will arrange for the king to visit the hospital staff that treated his father. To thank them for their service. The day after, a few official portrait photographs will be taken.” It will not be a happy occasion, you know that, but it is necessary. Necessary to show that the royal family does not hold any of the hospital staff accountable for the late king’s death. “On Saturday there will be the joint funeral, and a state dinner that night. On Sunday, Parliament will celebrate the announcement of our king and declare your coronation date.”
Will mentally prepares for the next few days, and the emotions he knows he’ll feel. He isn’t sure what the public will expect, or think of him, but he’s determined to do his duties with poise and grace and to honor his father to his best abilities. He’s glad you and his mom will be there by his side, but he can’t help but wish Benny would be too. “Where do you come in though?” He asks, wanting to reach for your hand again. “Like, I understand you’ll be there but when will they announce…this?” He gestures between the two of you.
“Parliament will not be the ones to announce our engagement when the time comes. You will.” Presumably his mother remembers the circus of public appearances well enough, and you offer her a sympathetic smile. “Your spokesman, anyway. And we will ease the stress of that announcement by making sure we are seen in public together beforehand. But…I think sometime in the month before your coronation would be appropriate? We should check when we go to the library later and see if there is precedent. Elsie, the palace librarian, she will know.” And seeing as she is also conveniently your best friend, you can trust that your secret will not leak to the press based on the questions you need to ask of her.
“Oh, okay.” He’s relieved to know that he’ll have more time before another massive changing event. “I wouldn’t mind being the one to announce it. How did dad do it?” He turns to his mom and asks.
“It was a part of the Christmas address that year.” Sandy smiles softly at one of the truly wonderful memories she has of being a part of royalty in any way. “His father – your grandfather William – was a bit of a romantic. When Klaus wanted to propose, his father said that it would be inspiring for the people to have extra good news at the holidays. So Klaus proposed on Christmas Eve, and the nation was told the next day.”
The look on Sandy’s face nearly breaks Will’s heart. There was still a lot of love there, despite what happened between his parents and their relationship. “That’s great, mom.” He smiles at her, reaching over and squeezing her hand. “I definitely want to be the one to tell everyone when the time is right.” He glances back over to you. “I don’t know how yet, but I’ll make it exciting.” He knows he’ll have to practice in his mirror – the only public speaking he’s done was generally about the heaviness surrounding PTSD and seeking treatment, but he hopes he can use his skills for brighter, better things. “I’ll run my speeches by you first since you’re more well-spoken than I am.” He smirks.
“Were you planning on hiring me to be your chief speechwriter?” The playful grin you toss back at him comes just before the footmen appear as from nowhere to whisk away your empty plates and lay the course of fruit and cheese that serves as dessert at a typical formal luncheon. It’s nice to see him smile, and you are very willing at this point, to admit that you find the young king very handsome. Much more so than his self-important brother, though that is a bit of guilt that you can grapple with on your own. “We won’t have the luxury of waiting for Christmas to announce, either. I hope you don’t mind warm weather because we’re looking at a spring coronation and maybe a summer wedding.”
“Speech writer? No. Wife? Yes.” He grins. He throws his hands up quickly and scoots back a little to get out of the staff’s way while they clear the dishes and silverware, only to be replaced with dessert. Once the staff has disappeared again, he scoots himself closer to the table. “A summer wedding is fine with me. Is that something that people need to buy tickets for or something? Can I invite people that don’t have anything to do with the kingdom?” He gives you puppy eyes, and Sandy notices and laughs. Will would love nothing more than Benny, Santi, and Frankie at his wedding. That was his plan all along, if he were to ever find someone to spend his life with.
“Tickets? No.” The implication makes you shake your head as you take a sip from your refreshed wine. “The ceremony is televised across the country, and on our national news’s website. But you can invite your friends, if that is what you are asking. I’m sure it would raise even more questions if you did not.”
“Weddings here are fairly tradition heavy. There are a lot of things in the preparation that I need to do, too.” Sandy tells him, not wanting it to seem like something else daunting but wanting him to understand before she offers you a kind smile. “I have my pearls still, from when I married Will’s father. I think it would only be right that they went to you.”
Your eyes light up when Sandy offers the pearls to you, and Will thinks he sees the hint of a tear starting to form. It’s now when he does reach for your hand again and squeezes it tight. “I think that’s a great idea mom. They’re going to look lovely on her.” He’s nervous and honestly excited to marry you, to continue to get to know you and see how the two of you would operate as a team and maybe one day a proper couple. He has no idea what he’s in for wedding and marriage wise, but he’s at the point in his life where he was seriously considering getting serious with someone, and he’s grateful you were chosen.
******
“My word she is thorough!” You laugh at the next section of questions in Mademoiselle Thorn’s extensive questionnaire. You and Will have already been filling these pages out in the sitting room of his suite for nearly an hour and you’re only halfway through. The first few pages were clothing sizes, preferences for travel, and pertinent dislikes – but once you reached the areas of liked items, the survey became rather ludicrous. It’s clear she’ll be studying these pages like gospel later and distributing the information to those who need it, and you fully appreciate her dedication. “An entire page of food and drink questions.” Pen at the ready, you shoot him a grin. “Favourite cake flavour. I have no doubt this will appear as the highlight of the king’s birthday celebration in a few weeks’ time.”
Will blows a raspberry as he looks up at you sitting across from him. Some of these things he had never even considered before. Favorite fabric? Cotton I guess? “Thankfully that’s an easy one – chocolate with cream cheese frosting. What’s yours?” He leans forward, almost pretending he can see any of the answers on your questionnaire.
“Pound cake with lemon curd and berries.” Even saying it out loud nearly makes you salivate, as you carefully write out your own answer in the line provided to you. Considering his answer for a moment, you look up at him quizzically. “I don’t believe I’ve ever had cream cheese frosting before,” you admit, grinning at the shock on his face.
“Never?” He asks, setting his pen down. “I’m surprised. It’s pretty standard where I come from, but then again I’ve never had your favorite. Maybe we can have someone bake mini versions and sample?” He thinks that could be a cute not-really-a-date-but-sort-of date. “What did you put for the next question?” He jokes, feeling like he did in high school when he tried to cheat off his friends during pop quizzes.
“You can request it for whoever you like.” He isn’t used to just waving his hand and have his orders followed, and it’s a refreshing change from what you know had been standard in the palace until now. “The next one is…favourite ice cream.” You practically hum in delight. “Raspberry. Or chocolate. Preferably both together.”
“Not bad, not bad. I’m a cookie dough guy myself or if I’m feeling extra bold – peanut butter cup and a scoop of plain chocolate on the side.” He smiles at you, and it’s contagious. “I take ice cream very seriously. In fact,” he chuckles, “it’s my favorite breakfast during the summer.”
“Your favourite breakfast?” One incredulous eyebrow raises at him and you can’t help but giggle. “Weren’t you a personal trainer before this?”
“I was and ice cream for breakfast is one of my dirtiest secrets.” It’s not, but he’s not ready to tell you about Columbia and isn’t sure if he ever will be. “But summers North Carolina are brutally hot and sometimes my old window unit in the living room would quit working, so I had to do what I had to do.” He laughs. “My house was always hot in the summer months. I’m glad you’ll never have to stay there.” After seeing the impressive and immaculate grounds of the palace he’s almost embarrassed of his very modest and small ranch house back home. It was definitely dated and had always been a bachelor pad. He had purchased it after his contract with the military ended from a vet that never married, always content to party for a few decades.
“Your secret is safe with me.” You promise him, enjoying the way the day has progressed. He is easy to talk to. Charming in an effortless and rugged sort of way. And there is no sense in pretending that you don’t get a little bit of a thrill every time he touches you. “How about this one,” your eyes flick down to the next question listed. “Favourite sandwich. Americans are notorious for their sandwiches; you must have one.”
“Hmmm…” he thinks as he reaches across the table to run his fingers over the delicate ring around your finger. It’s tied in a bow like a promise and he wishes he was in on the secret. “If I’m in Philly it’s a cheesesteak, if I’m at home it’s a classic grilled cheese. But I like to add tomato slices and pesto. My buddy Frankie showed me that and I’ve been hooked ever since. You next…hmm…oh, this is a good one. Favorite late night snack?”
“Popcorn with parmesan cheese.” His calloused fingers are warm against your skin, trailing up and down the length of your hand now and making butterflies erupt in your stomach. “We…we, erm…” You clear your throat, cheeks hot with the embarrassment of letting yourself get flustered so easily. “We should get to the library. Elsie is expecting us.”
“Huh? Oh, right.” He stands up and offers his arm to you. “Lead the way, Plum.” He smiles as you lead him towards the library.
It’s a good distance from where the two of you had been but when you lead him through the doors he has an unreadable expression on his face. Amazement? Wonder? He almost feels like Belle walking into Beast’s library for the first time. He’s so distracted by his surroundings that he doesn’t notice the tiny, dark-haired librarian with big round glasses heading towards the two of you. She nods at you, proper greeting not needed in this space since the two of you had been close for years, but she curtsies to Will. “Hello, sire, it’s an honor to meet you. My name is Elsie.” She smiles.
“Mademoiselle Poincaré is the palace librarian, as well as a historian.” You explain, not quite letting go of his arm but loosening your grip a little in case he wanted to let your hand go. “She has also been my best friend for the last twenty years, so rest assured that anything you say in front of her is safe.”
“Yes,” Elsie smiles before looking back at you. “Erm, do you think we could have a moment to discuss something?” She asks you, hoping break news to you before telling the future king.
“Of course.” She looks concerned, so whatever it is can’t be good.
“I’ll wander.” Will laughs a little, pointing towards the seemingly endless stacks of books that you had passed by to reach the librarian’s office. “Come find me when you’re done? Unless I’ve disappeared behind a trick bookshelf by then.”
Elsie laughs nervously before leading you towards her office in the back. “So, I don’t know how to tell you this in any easier way, but I was reading through some documents today and…you and William will have to get married much sooner than we had anticipated. Like…within a few weeks soon.” She fidgets with the Anubis paperweight she kept on her desk. “I should have looked at documents closer. I’m so sorry. He’s very handsome though so maybe it’s not bad news?”
“What do you mean a few weeks?” The way Elsie’s features paled makes perfect sense now, as you can feel the blood practically drain from your face. “Parliament hasn’t even announced the date of his coronation yet, how can it possibly—” Your face drops when you connect the dots on the two things and you tip forward to let your cheeks crash into your hands. “Do you mean that in order for us to rule together, we have to be married before the coronation?”
“I’m afraid so,” she says nervously. “Historically speaking, most of the royals had been married before they were crowned, and our dearly departed was the only one to break that rule in centuries. After he took the throne Parliament went and made sure it couldn’t be broken anymore. It was so deep in the documents I can’t believe I missed it. The two of you have two weeks to announce your engagement and plan a wedding, otherwise you won’t be able to rule with him. I have heard rumors just this morning that his coronation will be in less than a months’ time with no adjustments for extra time allowed…”
“Two weeks?” You can feel your eyes bulging out of your head as you stare at your friend across her desk. “That’s impossible. I mean completely and utterly impossible. A royal wedding in under a month is…goddamnit, Els, the whole idea is fucked now, isn’t it?” No one in the world has heard you curse besides Elsie and your siblings, but this is definitely a time that calls for it.
“I know!” She places her palms on her cheeks, pushing her glasses higher on her face. “I wish I had seen this sooner! I feel at fault for this. It is bullshit.” Elsie wasn’t much for cursing outside her home, just like you, but this definitely called for it. “Minna doesn’t even know yet, and I have to tell her today. I’m scared for my safety.” She tries to joke. “Do you think William will be upset by this? I know he is not used to this kind of life, being raised in America and serving his country.”
“I don’t know.” Your hand strikes out for one of hers, grasping at comfort. “I barely know the man. He’s kind, and seems terribly sincere, but I have no idea how he will take this. At lunch we were talking like we had whole months to go before even having to announce an engagement, this is…” All the books and papers spread out across her desk make you frown. “You’re not responsible for any of this, darling. I just wonder if there is any precedent we can use to push back against the timing. Something about the minimal length of an engagement or an arbitrary detail of the coronation we can use to push it back even an extra two weeks.
“I’ve looked through everything and I don’t see a way around this. It’s like it was written in stone. Do you want me to break the news to William? I would not want him being upset with you for this.” She offers. “Minna too. I can talk to Minna.”
“I will leave the inimitable Mademoiselle Thorn to you, but that man out there is my responsibility.” Though you do sigh deeply and squeeze her hand for support. “We have a cover story we’ll be using,” you tell her quietly. God forbid anyone should walk by. “He was in New Orleans around the time that we were a few years ago. We’ll say we met there but lost touch, and consider ourselves lucky to be reunited. I’m sorry to have to ask you to lie for me, but you know that an arranged marriage with a monarch who barely knows his country in the twenty-first century will go over like a lead balloon. A small, harmless lie will help him immensely.”
“I’ll do it for you,” Elsie smiles, squeezing your hand back. “Our friends met his friends and we hit it off for a blissful weekend of fun. We can even say I had a brief romance with one of his friends, yeah?” She laughs. “Just to make it more…I don’t know romantic? Like it’s kismet that you’re both here now.”
“You just like American military uniforms.” You tease, pinching her and managing a smile. “Will you email me your sources tonight after you are no doubt walloped by Minna? Poor thing is going to have so much work to do if he still wants to go forward like this.” And you will, too, but you’re trying desperately not to think about it.
“Uniforms, dark eyes and beards. Guilty,” Elsie giggles. “Yes, I already have a folder of files drafted for you. I’m just going to double and triple check to make sure I have everything covered.” She jiggles the mouse to bring her computer back from sleep mode and glances at the e-mail she had already started to put together for you. “I’ll send them over soon. I think I’ll leave you here though and go track down Minna.” She takes a deep breath and straightens her back. “Let me know if you need me to intervene, okay?”
“I’m going to need ice cream and alcohol.” The hug you give her is fierce and crushing, in the face of being scared witless. “Things just keep getting more and more chaotic. Bonne chance, Els.” You sigh before letting her go and stepping out in search of wherever Will had buried himself in the rows upon rows of bookshelves.
“You got it. I’ll stop at the gelato place downtown after work and then we can eat our feelings. Bonne chance à toi.” She returns the hug and makes a quick exit out of the library. Her iPhone gripped tightly in her hand as she types out a text frantically to Minna.
Will peaks his head around a large bookshelf and raises an eyebrow before walking over to you. “I just saw Elsie escape like a bat out of hell. Everything okay?” He asks, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“Not really, no.” The last thing you want to do right now is deliver more bad news to him, and you swallow another sigh before it can escape you. No time like the present. Time to rip off the bandage. “Elsie’s research turned up something we didn’t anticipate. In order for us to rule together, we would need to be crowned together. And in order to be crowned together…we—Will, we would need to be married first.”
“Okay…that’s no problem.” He’s confused and isn’t sure why that would be considered bad news. “I thought that was the plan?”
“The issue…” You hate that you cannot even keep his gaze, looking down at both of your shoes instead. “Is that Elsie heard Parliament wants you crowned within a month.”
“So…we’d have to get married in a month?” He looks at you, unsure of why you’re suddenly afraid to look at him. In all the time he had known you, which, granted wasn’t long, you had not been shy about direct eye contact.
“Precisely.” When he still does not take his hand away, You glance upward. “We need to find out if Parliament really wants you crowned that quickly. If they do, it’s going to be a mad dash to get everything done in time.”
“I mean…that’s really fast…but…” He pauses and takes a deep breath, taking his free hand and putting it over his mouth – his mouth morphing his face to a bewildered expression. “Fuck, okay. I mean my whole life has been turned upside down in less than forty-eight hours so why not?” He chuckles. If this was a dream, he’s sure he would have woken up by now. “Shit.” He chuckles out of nervousness and maybe frustration. “Her running away makes sense now. Alright, let’s do it. Let’s plan this wedding in less than a month.”
“She ran away because she had to go tell Mademoiselle Thorn.” You huff slightly, not envying your best friend’s talk in the least. But when you look at Will again, he seems staunchly determined. “You know you have an alternative, don’t you?” It’s his decision to make, and although you have grown surprisingly attached of the idea of a shared crown since only this morning when it was suggested - there is just so much good you could do if you were allowed - it is not the only pathway for his future. “You don’t have to share the crown with me, Will. You can rule on your own, and I will still be your consort when you feel the time is right.”
Will takes a moment to think, not taking his eyes off you. “I don’t want to rule without you though. I don’t think I’m capable of doing any of this without you. I just…” He doesn’t want to say he’s attached just yet, even though he is. “I know you’d be great at it, and I’m not going to be the one to take it away from you…”
“I wouldn’t have it at all, without you,” you remind him gently. “Frederick had no intention of sharing anything more than meals with me. The idea of actually having me be more than a walking womb began entirely with you, at breakfast this morning.” And it touches you in a way that you can’t quite express – whether it’s that no one else has ever thought you could do this, or the fact that he’s putting the good of the people before selfishly wanting to be king, or both, or even something else altogether. Whatever the reason is, you reach out softly and touch his arm in reassurance. “If Parliament wants you crowned quickly, then we’ll come up with a proposal for them. Coronations are national holidays and so are royal weddings. Maybe we can convince them to let us do it in one weekend. Have the wedding celebration the day before the coronation. It would be a lot, but it would be a festival weekend for the people, and I think we could manage it.” Even trying to think of the logistics makes your heart pound, but you know you won’t be alone in trying to get it done. You’ll have entire teams, and you’ll have each other. Surely that counts for something?
“You are way more than just a walking womb,” he says as he places a hand on your cheek. “If Miss Thorne hasn’t completely lost her head by now, I say we bring up the festival weekend to her and see what can be done. You can pick any themes or color schemes you want - just tell me where to be and when and I’ll be the goofy looking guy at the altar.” He smiles, rubbing his thumb under your eye.
“It will be Parliament that we sell this idea to, not your assistant. Although I fear the amount of work she’ll be put to if they agree.” The warmth of his hand seems to dip into the very marrow of your bones, melting you a little. “If this is how you want it to happen…I already promised that I would not let you fail. We will stand up and say our vows and hold our crowned heads high.” And you will absolutely not permit yourself to think about being called to his bed until all of it has actually happened…
“Then that’s what we’ll do. Let’s do this, Plum.” He smiles and takes his hand off your face, the absence of your warm skin under his palm affecting him more than he would like to admit. “Should we go see if Elsie needs help?”
“I would not be a very good friend if we did not.” Although the thought of facing his upset assistant does make you more unnerved than you’d like to admit.
It’s not long before the flustered assistant and nervous librarian make their way back to where you and Will are; Minna and Elsie having a hurried conversation in French. “Je n’arrive pas à croire que nous ayons manqué cette information importante. Cele va l’effrayer.” I can’t believe we missed this important piece of information. This is going to scare him off. Miss Thorn says in a hushed tone as she sees the two of you over my a large shelf of books.
“Je sais, je me sens comme un si mauvais ami pour ne pas l’avoir vu plus tôt.” I know, I feel like such a bad friend for not seeing it sooner. Elsie responds.
“Calmer. Calmez-vous, s'il vous plait. C'était son idée.” Calm down. Calm down, please. It was his idea. Thank god for your keen hearing, you can try to head the other two women off at the pass. “English, please, until his Majesty’s French is up to snuff.”
“So, I guess you heard?” Will asks Minna, worried that she’s either going to combust or start crying.
My apologies, your grace.” Miss Thorne says. “I did, and while I’m not thrilled that this information was written deep in the texts, I am glad Elsie found it. I can go to parliament and st—” She begins.
Will raises his hands to stop her. “We’ve kind of talked about it already. We were thinking having the wedding and then the coronation the following day. That way it’s all done at once and the people can have an entire weekend to celebrate.” He looks to you and smiles.
The idea takes her entirely off guard, but now she knows what you meant by, ‘It was his idea.’ “Well, now that we only have a few weeks we should start planning. You,” Minna Thorn points at you. “Need to choose a designer for your gown and you,” now pointing at Will. “Need to meet with the jewelers to find the emerald and settings you’d like to use for her ring.”
“I could help!” Elsie offers. “I know her taste in jewelry – we’ve been sharing pieces for years.” Will nods, accepting Elsie’s offer.
“I suppose I should put some thought into assembling my own staff, and submit my resignation to the Ministry of Education.” Your schedule is about to become exponentially busier at the drop of a hat, and you know you’ll need as much help as your alarmingly-soon-to-be husband will, just in other ways. Your eyes track to Minna’s, already buried in her agenda once more. “Will we have to argue the case to Parliament, or is there someone on the king’s staff better suited to that job?”
“I will take care of it.” Minna assures you. “I will discuss this with them and get the plans set in stone. You two just worry about yourselves and let me handle things.” She says confidently. She’s the most task-oriented and organized person you know, and you know she can handle this. “I will clear my schedule the rest of the day and call an emergency meeting.”
“Do you still have the list of candidates for the king’s assistant?” It’s a lot to do and not much time to do it in, so you can’t waste a single second. “If it’s at all possible, I’d like to review them and hire someone for myself.”
“Yes, right here. Resumes and references attached as well.” She reaches into her simple, yet stylish messenger bag and hands over the sealed manila envelope. “It’s alphabetized and the ones that stood out to me have sticky tabs on them. Elsie, I trust you’ll continue looking over documents to make sure we haven’t missed anything else?”
“Yes, of course.” Elsie nods, stepping around everyone and sitting back down at her desk.
“Excellent. Then I’m off to have a conversation with parliament.” Minna says as she smiles at the three of you and turns to walk out of the library.
“I’d say we all have our work cut out for us.” Looking around, you can see the lost expression on Will’s face clear as day. “Mademoiselle Thorn, if I might add one more thing to your plate?” You know she has a lot to deal with, but hopefully this is something she can delegate. “I’m sure the king would feel more comfortable with a few more familiar faces nearby. Can we arrange to have his closest friends put on the same flight as his brother?” One of your smaller hands finds Will’s beside you and you give him an encouraging smile as you gently grasp his hand. “You should call them. Get them out here for as long as they can stand it. You will feel less alone, and they should see how your life has changed.”
Minna makes a note in her phone. “I will have them fly in on the private plane with Benny. Just let me know when they are available and I’ll send the pilot.” She smiles and nods, happy that he will have a bit of comfort during this strange time of transition for him.
“That’s a good idea, Plum. I guess I’ll call them now so they can pack?”
“Do you remember the way back to your office?” He’s only walked these halls with an escort so far, so you’re trying your best to be helpful. “If not, I can walk you back. The Morning Room…which I suppose will be my own office soon enough…isn’t that far away.”
“I could use just one more reminder.” He offers his arm again, smiling as you loop yours through his. “Just for the sake of it.” He winks.
“Do you want me to stay with you while you call?” He had insisted you be there while he spoke to his brother, so the least you can do is offer.
“If you don’t mind overhearing how crude they’ll probably be.” He laughs. “I’ll make sure they’re on their best behavior while they’re here though.”
******
The two of you make it back to his office and he sits down on the couch, pulling the phone out of his pocket and dialing Catfish first. Frankie answers on the third ring. “Frank Morales.” Will says
“Ironhead!” Frankie’s surprise and relief are audible on the other end of the phone. “What the fuck man, you call Benny but you can’t call me and Pope? I showed up at your house the morning to help you clean up your goddamn yard as promised and you were just gone!”
“I’m sorry, Fish. Everything just kind of happened…you know? I’m sure Benny told you what’s been going on even thought I told him I would call you myeslf. Um. The reason I’m calling is to invite you here to Freidlyn. I’m…getting married and crowned within a month and I need you here.”
“You’re fucking what??” Asks the man in the other end of the call and you have to cover your mouth quickly to stifle your own laughter. It is a lot to take in. You’ll give him that.
“Yep. Getting married before the coronation so she can take the throne with me. What do you say though? Can you make it out? We’ll send a plane for you, Ben and Pope. It won’t cost you anything and you can stay as long as you’d like.” He doesn’t mention that he knows Fish will think that your librarian friend is cute, and maybe they could get lost in each other for a while. “I think you’d really like it here, Fish. What do you say?” He desperately wants Frankie to say yes, and he’ll beg his friend if he has to.
“Man…you know I would do anything for you.” The sigh from the other man does not sound enthusiastic though, and you lean closer to the speaker to listen. “It’s not like I have work to call out of or anything, it’s just…what about Xi? I can’t ask my mom to look after my bebita so I can go on an indefinite vacation. She would have to come along.” Frankie had had it the worst, coming back from Colombia to find divorce papers from his wife and his mother looking after his six-month-old daughter Xiomara.
“The palace has twenty-four-hour daycare.” You jump in, knowing it is impossible for Will to know the answer to this question. “Any moment you cannot be with her, she will be looked after by professionals. Please…please do not let that stop you.”
“Bring Xi and she’ll be well cared for when you’re not able to watch her. It can be a nice little escape for the two of you, I promise. Everyone here is so nice, and you won’t have to pay for a thing. You and bebita will be well taken care of.”
There is a moment of silence hanging in the air before the man on the phone clears his throat. “Is that her?” He asks, knowing Will had had a woman with him when he called Benny earlier in the day.
“It is…she’s amazing. I think you’ll get along really well.” Will glances over at you and smiles. “She’s been so helpful and supportive, and I’m actually excited about all of this now.”
“I’m sorry to have blurted that out and startled you,” you nearly reach out to the phone as though the man himself were there for you to touch. “It’s just…I truly believe Will should have his friends with him for everything that’s coming. It’s a lonely thing, to change your life all at once.”
“I appreciate you saying that, honey.” Frankie tells you honestly. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Just let me know where to be and when and Xi and I will be there.” Frankie was all too familiar with his life changing drastically at once. He had gone through so much over the last year and was ready for a break.
“Thanks, Fish. I’ll text you the details as soon as I get them from Miss Thorn.” The boys continue to chat for a minute before hanging up. “Onto Santi then…” He smiles as he scrolls through his list of recent calls. Santi nearly answers right away. “Pope!”
“William the fucking Conqueror.” Pope’s laugh is jovial and loud. “I was wondering when you’d get around to calling. Benny got in touch this morning.”
“Hey man. More news for ya – I’m getting married and then will officially be king in a few weeks. You down for a visit? Private plane, full amenities, and you can stay as long as you’d like…” Unlike Frankie, Pope had a full-time job and he wasn’t sure if his friend would be able to make it on such short notice.
“Depends, pendejo. Do I get to stay at the palace?” Pope is not taking a single shred of this bullshit seriously. Not when the pranks pulled by the Miller brothers are always so fucking legendary. “And I’ll need first dibs on hot bridesmaids.”
Will laughs. “You can stay at the palace, but I can’t promise bridesmaids.” He makes a face at you as a way of apologizing for his friend. You giggle at how cute it is. “Fish already said he’d come, and you know Benny is too so…make up your mind and I’ll give you flight details.”
“What’s the punchline, Miller? I show up at the airport and Fish has a remote-control helicopter in the parking lot?” He huffs and his shrug is practically audible. “You can do better than that.”
“Do you play a lot of pranks or are your friends just naturally suspicious?” You whisper, raising an eyebrow at the man next to you.
“I promise this isn’t a prank, Pope. I’ll turn on my fuckin’ camera right now so you can see I’m not kidding. I wouldn’t joke about this.” He places his hand over the microphone. “We play a lot of pranks on each other, so I don’t blame him for not believing this is actually happening.” He sighs, pressing the FaceTime option on his phone and waits for Santi to accept. “See?” He moves the phone around the grand office before standing up and going over to the window to show Santi the grounds to the best of his ability. “I’m not bullshitting you, man.”
“Puta madre…” Pope – like the good Catholic boy his call sign implies he is – is practically crossing himself as various curses fall from his lips. “Madre de Dios, Ironhead, what the fu—” he huffs out a long sigh. “Just tell me where and when, man. I’ll make it work.”
Minna barges through the door at that very moment – an eerie talent she seemed to have – and hands you a slip of paper with flight details for the following day. She says nothing and walks out with purpose, on her way to talk to parliament about the upcoming plans.
“I know.” He says before glancing at the note in your hand. “Looks like you’ll fly out tomorrow morning. It’s a long flight, so you’ll be able to get some rest, and the plane is comfortable. If you need to work, I’m sure we can set up a space for you in your room for meetings and whatever else. Pack your Sunday best and make sure Fish doesn’t panic flying with his baby, please.”
“First time on a plane cooped up with her favourite tíos?” Pope coos, his absolute adoration for his goddaughter obvious instantly. “We’ll wear her out and she’ll nap over the ocean. Everything will be fine. Text me if you need us to pick up anything from your house, okay hermano?”
“Thanks man, I really appreciate you being able to come. I’ll send the exact details here in a second to the group chat. I’m really looking forward to seeing everyone.” Will and Pope say their goodbyes before hanging up. “So, that’s the guys.” He laughs nervously as he looks at you. “They’re…a lot but they’re good people and I’ll make sure they’re on their best behavior.”
“They sound far more interesting than most of the people I know,” you offer, placing a hand on his arm reassuringly before turning and cracking open the file with resumes for royal assistants that Minna had given you. “I’ll make sure that their rooms are close together, and that there is hot food ready for them when they arrive tomorrow night. What time are they supposed to arrive? Maybe we can ask the kitchen to hold our dinner so everyone can sit down together.” It’s a small gesture, technically, but in meaning it’s large. “I know they’ll want to interview me, so to speak. And I don’t blame them one bit.”
“That would be great. Knowing them they’ll be starving and have a million questions.” He looks down at the flight itinerary. “Looks like they get in around 6PM so you’ll have time to prepare for the chaos that is them. I think you’ll like Xi too, she’s the cutest baby in the world and what happened with Frankie’s ex is so shitty. She just…left. I’m glad they’ll all be close together, just in case he needs help with anything, you know?” He rambles, nervous about his friends meeting his betrothed. He knows they’ll adore you, but he also worries you won’t feel the same about them.
“We’ll make sure that your friends and your brother have everything they need,” you promise him, knowing that their first impressions of his new home will also be their first impressions of you as well. This is not a moment to lay down on the job.
“You really are the best, Plum. Thank you.” Will takes your hand and squeezes it. “They’re going to absolutely fall in love with you.”
The smile that you summon is honest, and you’ll squeeze his hand back for encouragement. How can you possibly tell him that the only person you’re worried about falling for you is him?
______
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Hey Lilith (Pt.8)
TOH Hunter/Golden Guard x reader
Masks and Bets part eight.
Masks and Bets (Part 1)
Masks and Beasts (Part 2)
Masked and Beat (Part 3)
Masked (and Unmasked) On the Seas (Part 4)
Cracks in a Mask (Part 5)
Revelations (Part 6)
Bad Moon Rising (Part 7)
Word count: 2k
*******
Hey Lilith.
I discovered something strange yesterday….something really strange that turned my world upside down. I don’t know how to paraphrase it, so I’ll just send you a transcribed copy of what I read- to summarise, I’m a grimwalker. So is the Golden Guard.
So…I’m not sure what to do. No one else here knows about this, and I’m really scared. Belos has apparently killed almost all of the previous grimwalkers, so we could be in terrible danger.
But on another note- you grew up in Bonesborough, right? Have you ever heard of the Bryonys?
I sealed the letter and dropped it off at the post office.
“(Y/N), (Y/N)!” Yelled a voice. I jumped, spinning around.
“Edric! Emira!” I exclaimed. My friends were right outside the window! I darted out of the post office to meet them.
“(Y/N)! I’ve missed you!” Em grinned, giving me a quick hug.
“You too, losers! I’m sorry I’ve been gone so much recently.” I sighed, joining them on the bench.
“Hey (Y/N), check this out-” Edric said, waving his hand. A little bat creature from the knee landed on his shoulder. “This is Batrick!”
“Cool!”
*******
I smiled. I had missed spending time with the twins- It was great to see them again.
“So, how’s the coven been?” Edric asked while Em ordered our drinks.
I sighed, drumming my fingers on the table. “Well…it’s been…uh. Rough. Definitely harder than I expected…I kind of wish I had just stayed at Hexside with you guys.”
He frowned. “What happened? You used to love your job…”
I laughed sarcastically. “That was before I discovered some…some things I’d rather forget. Some really scary things…Uh…but I’m in contact with Lilith, as well as some other trustworthy adults, so I’m hoping I’ll manage to get out of there soon.”
Ed stared at me wide eyed.
“Uh…so how’ve you been?” I smiled.
“Are you okay?!”
I shrugged. “I’ll survive. I promise, okay?” I held out my pinky childishly. He gave a half-hearted smile and shook on it.
“You’d better keep that promise, (L/N).” He said seriously, before switching to a cheerier tone. “…I’ve been teaching myself beastkeeping magic lately. It’s been pretty fun.” He smiled.
“Ooh, and I’ve learned a few healing spells.” Em said, sliding into her chair, drinks in tow. “What’re we talking about?”
“Multitracks? That’s awesome, guys!” I grinned.
Ed blushed. “Well…they’re just hobbies, really. I can’t imagine pursuing beastkeeping at Hexside…”
I frowned. “Isn’t Luz doing multitracks?”
Em raised an eyebrow. “Amity’s girlfriend? Well, yeah, she’s doing multitracks, but she’s a human.”
“And plus…She’s not a Blight. Yet.” Ed sighed, taking a sip of his apple blood.
“But if you multitrack, you’ll get to do stuff like this!” I argued, casting an illusion and an abomination at the same time.
“Well yeah, but we’d be doing wild magic.” Em frowned. “Disappointing the Titan or whatever….”
“But you’d get to be free! Like Eda the Owl Lady!”
“Says the leader of the Emperor’s Coven.” Emira teased, messing with my hair.
I caught her hand, staring into her eyes seriously. “Exactly. I know what covens are like, Em. Trust me….it is not a pleasant experience.”
She stared back, wide eyed.
I swallowed. “I’m sorry for snapping, Em. But you’re sixteen and nearly ready for coven initiation….I trust you, but please. Please don’t do what I did. I would be petrified if Belos knew that I’m telling you this, but I have first-hand experience: The man is evil, and I wouldn’t recommend trusting his system.”
*******
I returned to the castle by dusk, trying to get to the kitchen unbothered.
But as I passed the throne room, I heard voices. They were muffled, but one of them sounded angry- Oh, it was Belos. (Of course it was)
Not my problem, I decided. Not tonight.
So I kept walking.
I would regret that later.
I liked going to the kitchen. The dining hall was always crowded, and while the food was okay, I wasn’t sure how much I trusted it to not have memory obliviating potions akin to Terra’s tea. So I preferred to stick to the kitchen, where I could just make my own food.
Raine Whispers had beat me to the kitchen.
“Looks like I’m not the only one with this plan tonight,” I said, smiling lightly.
They shrugged. “Guess not.”
“Thank you, by the way.” I said, walking past them towards the bread.
“For what?” They frowned.
“You know…messing up Terra’s memory potion. Letting me keep my memories.”
“Of course. Um…Out of curiosity, may I ask what happened?”
I shook my head. “A….weird thing happened. Um…I don’t think that was the first time
I was sent to tea with Terra. But…let’s just say I found something about my past. Something Belos doesn’t want me to know….um. Speaking of which, do you…remember anyone from your time in Bonesborough? Anyone…who looked like me?”
Raine tilted their head thoughtfully. “Yeah, actually. I had a friend at Hexside who looked a lot like you- are you related to the Bryonys?”
“Yes! That’s what I found out that Belos didn’t want me to know- that I’m related to the Bryonys!”
They nodded, eyes widening. “Weird! Nico Bryony was always a fairly normal witch….I wonder why Belos didn’t want you to know about him…”
“What were they like?” I asked excitedly.
“Well…he was really cool, didn’t talk much- Unless he was with Eda or Lilith. I don’t think Lilith liked him much at first, but by the time I started attending Hexside, they had grown pretty close. I always liked him- he was creative, and always had a witty comeback prepared. Never got to know him super well though…” Their eyes glazed over, as though remembering something. They shook their head, a shadow appearing on their face. “But then came the first disappearance. When he returned…well, Nico had always been firmly against covens, but when he reappeared, he was working as the old Golden Guard’s right hand man. He disappeared again for a final time not long before you were born…” Rain swallowed, looking uncomfortable. “His guardians disappeared pretty soon after he did, and the Bryonys just…vanished.”
Shoot…I pursed my lips. “Woah….heavy.”
Raine nodded, still frowning. “Yeah….”
I swallowed, trying to break the tension in the room. “Do you think there’s any way for them to have…y’know, survived?”
Raine shrugged. “Well, I guess anything is possible.” They answered unconvincingly.
I nodded. “Well. Thanks for telling me, Mx. Whispers. I…I’ll ask Lilith for more details later, I guess.”
*******
I slipped back upstairs with a small loaf of bread- it wasn’t much, but I wasn’t in the mood for anything else. I shoved my door open-
There was a silhouette sitting on my bed.
“Hey...” It rasped, sitting up.
“Titan!” I yelped, dropping my bread as I tried to flick the lightswitch on. “Warn me next time you hang out in my dark empty room, Hunter!”
“Oh- Sorry! Sorry…” He coughed- his voice was scratchier than usual, as though he had a cold. “I- uh. I didn’t mean to disturb you, but…” He sighed. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
As my eyes adjusted to the brightness, I took in his appearance. He was holding his hand to the side of his neck, as though he was covering something.
I set my bread down on the table, and sat next to him on the bed. “What do you mean?”
He swallowed, not meeting my eyes. “I just…well, I’m not allowed to go to the infirmary- I’m supposed to be able to take a bit of pain, you know? But ah….it really hurts…and you’re the only one who I know will help me-”
“Hunter….what happened.”
“Belos. I disobeyed him, so. You know how it goes.”
Shit.
I gently pried his hand off his neck, revealing a bloody gash.
“Thorns, Goldie. That’s…pretty bad.” And probably why his voice sounds so weird.
He blushed, shaking his head. “Well- can you fix it or not?”
“Of course.” I nodded. “It’ll just take a quick spell- There’s a lot of blood, but the cut isn’t too deep. It’ll likely heal quick, but take a lot of energy out of you- so get some sleep after this, yeah? .”
He nodded. “...Thanks. I…thanks.”
“Of course.” I said, conjuring some bandage as I worked on the healing spell. “You know I’m always here for you, you dork.”
He smiled, rolling his eyes. “Likewise. I…I really appreciate you, you know? Like…we didn’t get along at first, but you’re….less annoying then you used to be.”
“And you’re more fun, Blondie.” I grinned, waving away all the blood.
Hunter shrugged, trying to help clean his wound. “You know, I think following the rules can actually be fun?”
I scoffed. “Some rules, sure- but don’t you think the Isles could benefit from expanding our magic usage?”
Hunter frowned, fidgeting with his gloves. “I guess.”
I felt a pang of guilt as I remembered Hunter’s inability to do magic. If the isles were to use more magic, then…well, he would likely be even worse off than he already was.
“But wild magic is dangerous. Look at the Owl Lady- wild magic caused that.” He argued.
“I suppose…” All magic can be used for good or bad, regardless of how tame.
Hunter sighed. “(Y/N)...wild magic killed my family. It…isn’t a fact I really like to throw around, but I saw you as Cinder, I saw you with Luz…” He paused, shaking his head. “I don’t want to lose you. So please…don’t use wild magic. I need you to be safe.”
I held his hand. “You won’t lose me. I promise.” After all, our fates were entwined….
Oh…how would I tell him about the book…
“Good.” He nodded, smiling, and I chose to temporarily take my mind off of the dilemma.
There was a knock on the window. I jumped, and swung it open.
“Flapjack?! I told you to stay in my room!” Hunter exclaimed, blushing as the palisman fluttered in.
“You named it?!” I grinned, petting the little bird.
Hunter somehow turned a darker shade of red, rivaling that of his palisman. “He kinda named himself. I don’t know what a flapjack is though- Belos said it was like a pancake, which would be helpful….if I knew what a pancake was. I uh…don’t think this palisman is dangerous, though. Admittedly.”
“Cool! He’s so cute!”
“Isn’t he?” Hunter laughed, stroking the bird’s palistrom feathers. He paused to yawn.
“Oh…the healing potion is taking effect.” I noted. “You should probably head to your room- sleep is, of course, incredibly important for healing.”
He nodded. “Okay. Well…see you tomorrow then, yeah?”
“Of course. Now go rest, or I’ll sic your bird on you!” I grinned, patting Flapjack’s head.
He smiled, slipping the bird back into his cloak. “Goodnight, (Y/N). And…thank you.”
*******
I was awoken by an infernal knocking sound.
“Ugh….It’s too early for sparring, Steve. Go back to slee-”
“(Y/N)!”
I jolted upwards, staring at the source of the sound. The window.
“Show yourself!” I hissed, raising my fists.
The window creaked open, revealing a dark silhouette.
I stepped back, heart racing.
“It’s me!” The person hopped into my room, throwing their arms around me. I stiffened, before recognizing their voice.
“...Lilith?” I murmured, turning on the light.
In the light, I saw that Lilith had changed a bit since I last saw her. One of her eyes was grey, there was a streak of grey in her previously jet black hair, and her outfit was a bit less sleek and commanding…but it was Lilith all the same!
“Lilith!” I grinned, running towards her. “What the Titan are you doing here?!”
Lilith’s expression grew more serious. “Saving you.”
*******
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#x reader#the owl house hunter x reader#the owl house x reader#the owl house#the golden guard#golden guard x reader#toh hunter x reader#hunter toh#toh golden guard#toh golden guard x reader
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Betrayal- Annoyed
Prompt #3, Medium:
Against the Odds. Let your character experience a setback. Once you begin
creating about the setback, you can open the next prompt.
In hindsight, Lúthien thought that she might have known that her plan would not work out. After all, things like that never had worked out even in childhood, she mused, again realising how often she had been in a situation such as this back then. However much her parents had promised not to get angry if only Lúthien were to tell the truth, they always had, anyway. The same had held true for Daeron’s parents, and Galadhon and his wife. So really, she might have known better from the start.
True, her father had not strictly speaking broken his promise to her (at least not yet), but still she cursed him into Angband itself as she learned in the morning that he had made his men search for Beren and capture him, to be brought before the thrones. Daeron, her father… who else would betray her trust ere this matter was settled?
She would not, however, be the Princess of Doriath if she couldn’t do some quick thinking- so she forestalled the guards that were leading Beren to Menegroth as a captive and took his hand, pressing it firmly. His palms were wet, and Lúthien felt the turmoil of his soul.
“It will be alright!” she assured him, leading him before her parents, well aware that all of Menegroth seemed to be assembled in the Hall. Lúthien first looked at her mother, who sat upon her throne silently, no clue to her feelings showing on her fair face. But as their eyes met, Lúthien perceived her mother’s thoughts, and knew that Melian was truly biting back laughter.
Silly Maia! Lúthien called her in her thoughts, not bothered at all whether her mother would actually be aware of what she was thinking. But then she looked on to her father, and for the very first time in all the millennia of her life, she was somewhat cowed by him, for it seemed to her that she stood not before the father she loved but only before her King as a wrongdoer. Lúthien shook the feeling off quickly and hoped with all her might that Beren, who was by now quaking with fear, would do the same and get a grip. They had no margins for error in this.
She noticed her very own error too late. Upon setting foot in the Hall, playing along the lines of yesterday’s conversation had seemed prudent, but even as she spoke, praising Beren’s deeds, she realised how weak she had made her own position. Behave like a child and you’ll be treated like a child, she chided herself, but the damage was already done. This time when she looked into her parents’ faces, she got no clue as to what either of them were thinking, but her heart leapt a little when her father bade her let Beren speak for himself. If he did not make the same mistake as she had, they might still stand a chance to end this to everyones satisfaction. Well, almost everyone’s. The next moment, however she would have loved to kick Beren in the shins, or else a bit higher up, she thought savagely. He had obviously got his courage back, but now he so grandiosely overdid it that Lúthien groaned inwardly. And of course her father rose to the bait. Lúthien would gladly have buried her face in her hand and denied that she ever had anything to do with either of them. Males! she thought. Males of any race. Need they all be so idiotic?
She wasn’t even truly shocked when her father named a Silmaril as her bride-price, was even somewhat relieved. Yes, Beren in his pride had of course set out to fulfil his oath, but even he must know this was ridiculous, just like her father knew. She would let tempers cool a bit, then set out to get all their heads on the right way again, and hopefully, they would all be able to settle the matter without anyone getting harmed.
#silmarillion fanfiction#silmarillion writers' guild june challenge#secret gate#matryoshka#the tale of beren and lúthien#lúthien tinúviel#beren erchamion#melian of doriath#elu thingol#doriath#the quest for the silmaril#betrayal#annoyed#chapter three#that chapter will be neigh unreadable because I had my kids climb all over me while writing#that sort of messes with concentration#massive apologies
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SEASON 4 FINALE BABYYYYY
NOT STARTING OFF WITH COCO’S FUNERAL PLEASE
You know what tho? Letty might get her shit together. I hate it has to come like this but she might do it. I believe in her.
Angel can’t even go to the site because he FUCKED. COCO’S. DAUGHTER. Omg every time I remember I’m pissed off again
They didn’t deserve him. You’re so right Letty. He was the best of them and now he’s gone. Damn we really gotta say goodbye. Imma miss tf outta Richard on this show. He brought such depth to Coco. He was phenomenal.
TIG!! MY PSYCHO LOVE!! WAIT NOT HIM ABOUT TO KILL OL’ BOY
And not the Nurse coming in
$80,000?! FOR ONE JOB???
WAIT I KNEW IT
DONT. EVER. THREATEN. EZ.
Zeke is dead and gone yall. He gone. This is EZ through and through. This some cold-blooded shit right here.
EZ you should at least give the girls the money. Like they ain’t do nothing
NOT MANNY MEETING WITH THEM. JESS FINNA SET THEM UP. PLEASEEEEE NOT MY BABYYYYYYY
OH GOD THE SONS ARE HERE
I’ve missed Tig a lot actually. It has been so nice seeing him. I’m gonna take “sexy and bad” as a reference to Venus. Her and Tig are still together because I say so.
Oooo Marcus finding out that they killed Montez and they got a snitch in the clubhouse. Shit finna get realllllll
Creeper don’t even talk to her. It’s a waste of time. Shiiiiittttt she do got all your tea
AND SHE TOLD HIM THERE’S A RAT IN SANTO PADRE
i want that bitch DEAD. YA HEAR ME? KATIE IS DONE. KEEP COCO’S NAME OUT YO MOUTH
Louie is botching it but his heart is in the right place and this is really fucking nice. I think the car is really cute.
Padrino says it’s 3 to 1 and EZ says “more of them to kill”….WHATS NOT CLICKING EZEKIEL????
They’re staging a coup. I said Padrino would always have my respect but they were gonna dethrone or murk him.
Wait Adelita killed him?? How’d she get involved??
Emily been playing secret spy all season and it’s all been for NOTHING. Miguel got himself back together and got his son back so quick. I can’t stop laughing omg 😂😂😂😂
And no, I do not care that Erin is dead. Me and Holland have beef since the Teen Wolf years so I never cared about the character. I’m sure Emily will plan some way to avenge her next season but for now Miguel is winning and I am LIVING
Sofia throwing up and shit….guess we finna find out if she can really hang
NOT LIKE THIS!!! AND NOT BY FUCKING ISAAC DUDE. THEY FINNA BURN HIM??!!??!!!!
HE DOESNT DESERVE THIS!!
ELGIN WHEN I FIND YOU
Letty went and got Hope!! Okay that makes me feel better. That’s really nice. The women sticking together and I’m so damn proud of Letty! I KNEW SHE COULD! I just hope that Hope doesn’t run when things get hard again because they will and Letty is still growing. And so is she.
“We have that in common” You are yo Daddy son. DUH!
We finna lose Pops too?? He might as well tell the truth.
SECRET’S OUT LETS GOOOOOOOO
He finna killswitch????
Angel has a SON. He don’t wanna do this shit. What a fucked position to be in. But has he even told EZ about the baby yet??
EZ is out of CONTROL. They are so bloodthirsty and FOR WHAT? Y’all started this shit, wouldn’t even let Marcus finish talking because you’re thinking off pure emotion.
Y’all finna burn this club to the fucking ground. He is absolutely right. They gon see next season. They gone see.
LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO EVERYONE SEEING THE POWER PLAY FOR WHAT IT IS BUT IT’S TOO LAAAAAATE
Bishop’s face! Angel’s face!
Look at EZ sitting comfortable on the throne and giving a damn State of the Union address. THIS SPEEEEEECH!! HE’S WHACKED
Angel finna have a real tough time next season. Oh boy.
Poor Jay-Jay’s family….I guess this was Sofia proving herself tho. Ez really should give them the money. Some if it. Something.
That Ez and Angel scene was…..I don’t know what to say besides I’m real scared. I’m SO. SCARED. I just wanna repeat again that Ez IS GONE.
Creeper finna SNITCH?! DONT PISS ME OFF.
Oh HE IS TAKING ALL THE HEAT. A REAL MUTHAFUCKA FOR LIFE !!
Ez look a plum fool still on that twin mattress.
I think Angel got the location from Padrino and burned that bitch to the ground.
Wow wow wow y’all done stressed me tf out
See ya next season
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